#i have some issues with this book but like...

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 7

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Also Retconning from Nesta's Spring Birthday to like late November, just because otherwise my plot doesn't work.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky had kinda waited for the two of them to have screeching arguments…as soon as the happy bubble of a new mating bond fell away. 

But…nothing of that sort had happened.

“Let’s just keep it just for us for a little while,” he had whispered and she had agreed, curled up in his arms. Just them.

Just for a little while. Nobody else’s opinion did really matter after all. And she knew that there would be numerous opinion be had about the fact that hse had met her mate and then moved in with him in the span of less than a day…and that the two of them were utterly and deliriously happy since then. 

Just the two of them - at least for a little while longer. Sky knew that they would have to tell their friends and family eventually, that they couldn't stay in their little bubble forever, but she was in no rush. The world could wait. For now, she was perfectly content to just be with Azriel.

And they didn’t fight. About anything. 

It was...weird. 

She was waiting for arguments. She was waiting for screaming and to be told that she wasn’t enough…for him to finally realie that he had made a grave mistake…but nothing happened. 

He didn’t care that she stuffed all his bookcases with her books…or rather that his shadows did, painstakingly replicating the order she had had in her little apartment. 

Azriel even made nice with Hector and bought him tuna, jut for her sake…

She had caught Azriel and Hector curled up on the couch together last week - Azriel reading a book and Hector sprawled on his lap. She'd stared at them for a long moment. He had let Hector drool all over his shirt. Azriel had looked up at her with a sheepish grin when he noticed her staring. "He's very cuddly," he'd said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.

Sky had just laughed, shaking her head as she made her way over to them, sitting down next to Azriel. She had rested her head on his shoulder, reaching out to pet the cat. Hector purred loudly in approval, nudging his head against Sky's hand, and she couldn't help but smile.

Azriel kept odd hours for his work, sometimes disappearing in the middle of the night or coming home then too…but Sky did too, so it didn’t bother her.

He always made time for her - making them breakfast or bringing her coffee or leaving little notes for her. 

And she horded it all away like a dragon did with it’s hoard, wanting to enjoy that just a little while longer. 

Sky made sure to do the same for him. She knew he never slept much, so she always left a cup of tea by his bed if he was late in returning, and always left some food for him… She found him a new salve for the scars on his hand, massaging it in with all the patience in the world when he admitted to her that the muscles and joints hurt as it got colder… She bought him sweets from the same little shop in the Rainbow she got her own stash of caramel candies from… She wanted to take care of him, even if she knew Azriel would never ask for it.

She loved the way he held her, as if he would never let her go. She loved the way he whispered her name as he kissed down her body, and the way he held her once they were finished, his wings wrapping around them and cocooning her in warmth. Sky had never imagined that she could be loved like this, but Azriel made her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And if Azriel wasn’t there…the shadows were.

They had become her constant companions - sliding beneath doors and around walls and windows, following her through the house. At first, the shadows had been startling, but she had quickly grown used to them - they seemed to relish draping themselves over her, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her shoulders. The shadows would stroke at her face and whisper her name, and Sky had taken to speaking to them as well, asking them about Azriel or if they could bring her things or fetch Hector.

It was...nice not being alone anymore. Sky had never realized how lonely she had been in her little apartment, but now that she had the shadows - and Azriel - she didn’t want to go back. She loved the way the shadows seemed to watch over her, always present even if Azriel was not. And in their own way, the shadows cared for her too, always there to provide a steadying or comforting presence - or to bring her a cup of tea, or fetch her a book she needed for research...

And besides, the shadows were much better at moving furniture than Sky was. She had quickly learned that if she needed something rearranged or moved and Azriel was not around to do it, the shadows were more than happy to help.

But most of all, the shadows had come to represent Azriel to her - they were always with her, always watching over her, and she knew that even if Azriel could not be there, the shadows would always look out for her. They would keep her safe. 

It was a strange and unexpected sense of comfort, but Sky had come to cherish it. She never felt truly alone anymore, not with the shadows constantly at her back, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

And if Azriel was there…well.

The sex was better than anything she had ever imagined.

Sometimes she woke up to him between her thighs, right in the middle of throes of her pleasure, her whole body still heavy with sleep and drenched with wetness. 

He made her feel wanted, desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He never tired of her, always wanting to be close her, and she never tired of him. Every touch felt like a new discovery, and Sky was learning Azriel’s body like she had never learned anything else in her life, learning what made him moan and tremble and beg for more. She loved the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and the way he whispered her name as he moved inside her.

But it wasn't just about the physical pleasure.

After sex…when it was just the two of them curled up in their bed, his wings wrapped around her, his head bedded on body more often than not…they talked. A truth for a truth.

She learned more about him. About his horrible sweet tooth. About the scars that covered his hands…she had traced them one evening and he had looked at her…looked at her in wonder.

He opened up to her about so many things, telling her stories from his childhood, about the horrors of the war, and about his family. Sky listened to all of it, her heart breaking for all the pain and suffering he had endured, and vowing to spend the rest of her life making him happy. And in turn, she shared her own stories with him, telling him things she had never told anyone else. It felt...good to let go of all the secrets and burdens she had carried for so long, and to know that Azriel was there to listen and to understand.

He never once cared about her stuttering. Never once rushed her.

Though she could feel… she felt so safe with him…that the stutter eased. Still there but sometimes she could go whole sentences without stuttering once..

Azriel was always patient with her, letting her take her time when she needed it, and never making her feel rushed. And to her surprise, her stutter had eased, bit by bit.

It was a strange feeling, not having to struggle through every word, to speak without fear of being judged or laughed at. And Azriel never drew attention to it, never made her feel as if she was something to be pitied or fixed. He just accepted her for who she was - stutter and all.

Sky was…so very grateful for that. She could trust Azriel with her deepest fears and insecurities, and he would always be there for her, supporting her and encouraging her. And in turn, she would do the same for him.

Being with him was so easy.

So easy, and so natural. It felt like they had been together for years, not just weeks. She couldn't imagine her life without Azriel, and she never wanted to. He made her laugh, and he made her feel loved and he wanted her.

That was probably the most startling thing.  

Sky was working on her desk, that overlooked the lake, while Azriel preferred to work upstairs in his office, and a cup of tea was gently put down next to her, a kiss pressed against the crown of her head. She couldn’t help but lean back into him with a happy sigh, tipping up her head, turning towards Azriel and letting him kiss her properly.

“Sky?” He asked softly as she leaned into the touch of the hand on her shoulder.

She hummed in answer.

“Isn’t one of your books coming out soon?” Azriel asked her softly.

“In three weeks, just in time for winter solstice shopping,” Sky answered absentmindedly. “Why?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "How high are the chances that I could…have an early copy?" Azriel asked, sounding nearly hesitant.

Sky turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You want an early copy of my book?" she asked, curious. Azriel's nod was immediate. A slow smile spread across Sky's face. "You want to read it?” she asked him hesitantly. He wanted to read her book? 

“I do want to read it. And I also have a friend who adores your books and her birthday is coming up…” Azriel said softly. “She’s important to me. Like a little sister. Her name is Nesta. And I think she may be your biggest fan.”

Sky blinked in surprise, touched by Azriel's words. She knew how much Azriel cared about his family, and to hear him describe Nesta as a little sister was...well, it was sweet. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that her books had made such an impression on someone so important to him.

She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out one of the dozen or so she had stashed in there. At his surprised look she just shrugged. “I always get a few from the first print run,” she said drily.

Azriel took the book from her hands, his gaze softening as he looked down at the cover. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over the embossed title of the book. "I know she'll love it."

“Just tell her to please not let the newspaper get their hands on it,” Sky said drily, making him laugh. 

“She’ll protect this book fiercely,” he told her sagely. “Would you…sign it?” Azriel asked her. 

Sky hesitated. She had never once signed any of her books. Had never written the name Sellyn Drake as an autograph. 

But for Azriel...she could do it. For Nesta. 

So she took the book back, dipped her quill in her ink, flicking it off twice, and then wrote a short message to Nesta - wishing her a happy birthday and hoping that she enjoyed the book. 

Sky signed Sellyn Drake at the bottom, the movement feeling surprisingly natural… and felt strangely vulnerable as she handed the book back to Azriel.

Azriel looked down at the inscription, reading it over carefully before looking back at Sky. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft and tender. "This means a lot to me, and to her."

Sky felt a warm glow settle over her, and she knew in that moment that she would do anything for Azriel. Anything to make him happy.

“You are very welcome,” she said simply.

He leaned down and kissed her, and Sky melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Azriel's neck and pulling him closer. For a moment, the world outside their little bubble of happiness seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.

***

“It seems like we need to come to some sort of agreement,” Azriel said tightly.

Hector the cat was staring at him with one eye and doing his best to intimidate him into life-long obedience, from where he was sitting in front of Azriel, who was sitting on the couch. 

"I am not going to stop sleeping in Sky's bed," he told the cat, crossing his arms. "I am not going to stop cuddling with her." Hector hissed at him in response, clearly not a fan of the fact that Azriel was going to stick around. 

It was a potential problem. Azriel glared at the ugly cat.

If it even was a cat. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was a stunted Mountain Lion. It was quite big for a normal cat. And uglier than that.

"You know, I am not above pretending to be allergic to you," he told the cat drily. Especially if Hector kept scratching him.

Hector shot him a disdainful look, clearly not worried. And then swiped out a paw to smack at Azriel's naked feet, claws carefully withdrawn. 

Azriel scowled down at the cat. "You're lucky Sky loves you so much," he muttered, glaring at Hector.

"We can agree to get along. I'll buy you that ridiculous expensive Tuna you like and you can come join us when we cuddle on the couch. Or we can draw a line in the sand and see who comes out on top." Azriel raised an eyebrow.

Drily he reflected that this was how far he had come. Trying to bargain with the ugliest cat he had ever seen.

Hector stared back at him for a moment, before finally letting out a "Meow" as if to say, "Fine, fine, you can stay - for now." 

Azriel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the cat had finally agreed to some sort of truce. And he knew that Sky would be happy too - she loved that mangly cat more than anything. So he would put up with Hector - for Sky's sake.

Hector smacked him on the arm and crawled into his lap.

Azriel hesitantly petted his head. “You do realize you weigh a ton, right?” he told the cat drily.

Sky had told him that he had been all skin and bones when she had found him. Yeah, that was definitely no longer true.

Hector rolled over on his back, demanding belly rubs.

Azriel sighed, shaking his head as he reluctantly obliged, rubbing Hector's belly, where the cat’s fur was patchy. 

 Azriel couldn't deny that the cat was oddly endearing, even if he would never admit it out loud. And as Hector purred contentedly in his lap, Azriel couldn't help but smile.

Maybe he could put up with this cat after all. For Sky's sake, of course.

Just for Sky. 

Just for Sky's sake, he bought the cat ridiculous expensive treats, a scratching post and toys.

And he found that, as the weeks went on, he didn't mind as much when Hector would jump into bed with them in the middle of the night, curling up next to Sky. Or when he would bat at Azriel's toes while he read.

Nobody ever needed to know when he asked Gwyn to help him find some books about cats and their proper nourishment and exercise.

"Thank you," he thanked the red headed priestess when she handed him a whole stack of them at the end of their next private dagger lesson.

"No, thank you.  Finally I can pay you back for all the dagger lessons," Gwyn said with a bright grin. "Are you...Are you thinking about adopting a cat?" she asked him curiously.

"No. A friend did," he answered truthfully.

"Making nice with it then?" Gwyn asked him and he sighed.

"I am pretty sure the cat plots my murder on a daily basis," he answered only half joking.

Gwyn laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Have you tried giving it treats?" Gwyn suggested helpfully.

Azriel opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Rhys landed just a few feet away. Probably training with Cassian early in the morning, before they did their usual training with the priestesses and Valkyries.

"I even bought him ridiculously overpriced, fresh tuna," he admitted drily, making her laugh.

"Good luck with your bribes," Gwyn said with another laugh. "See you later, shadowsinger," she said with a wave over her shoulder. Azriel looked after her for a moment and then passed over to one of the weapon racks, starting his usual inspection.

"Dagger Lessons?" Rhys asked him, as he crossed over to him. 

"Yes," Azriel agreed. He could hear the inflection in Rhys' voice, a lilting question. He didn't even want to know what Rhys was thinking.

"Just With Gwyn?" Rhys asked, tone still carefully neutral.

Azriel sighed, turning to face his friend. "Yes, just with Gwyn," he confirmed. Azriel kept his tone neutral, almost indifferent.

Azriel went back to his dagger inspection, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.

He could feel Rhys's eyes on him, but he didn't waver. He knew his brother well enough to know that Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of him. And je wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Azriel didn't need to wait long. He could feel the talons of Rhys' daemati powers scratch against his mental shields just moments later. He let him in with a sigh. Was he officially going to get warned off Gwyn as well? 

Apparently Azriel was.

*If you want more from her, don't you dare pressuring her,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

Azriel nearly started to bristle. He wondered if Rhys even thought about how much of an insult it was. Ever thought of what it meant that he thought that Azriel would pressure Gwyn in anything she didn’t want. 

But he just answered flatly. *Then it will calm you to know that I couldn't possibly be less interested in Gwyn romantically.*

Maybe in another life. But not in this one.

*So what, you'll keep yearning after Elain?* Rhys asked him sharply.

Azriel looked up from the daggers, fixing Rhys with a glare.

*I behave. That's what you want. What I do or don't feel outside of that is none of your business,* Azriel gave back.

He was sick of this. Sick of Rhys treating him like he was some kind of reckless child who couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions. 

*I'll behave. As I always do.* He repeated that with more force, his glare hardening.

And as a side note, I am perfectly capable of handling my own feelings, Rhys. I don't need your interference.

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and pointed.

Azriel held Rhys's gaze for a beat longer, then turned back to the daggers. But he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that still hovered in the air.

He was so fucking done with Rhys’ meddling. Or with his brother not trusting him to handle his own feelings like an adult. 

*Oh really?* Rhys crossed his arms, wings spreading wide at his back. *How long have you been pining after Elain, knowing damn well that it would only bring you misery?*

It was a punch beneath what was appropriate. Both knew it.

But AZriel couldn't even fucking care at that moment.

He slammed down the mental walls, forcing Rhys out of his mind immediately.

Quite frankly, he hadn't thought about Elain once after Sky and him had accepted the mating bond. He hadn't fucking cared anymore.

 Elain could do whatever she wanted. So could Mor.  Azriel was kinda busy with doting on his mate.

Sky mattered. 

Sky actually wanted him around. Sky liked him enough to let him share her bed and curl around her and had not once flinched away from his shadows. 

Rhys could say and do whatever he wanted but he was not getting near Sky. 

"Good Morning!" At least Cassian was in a good mood.

Azriel barely acknowledged Cassian's cheerful greeting, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Rhys. He wasn't in the mood to banter or make small talk. But Cassian, being Cassian, didn't seem to pick up on the tension in the air.

He plopped down on the ground beside Azriel, stretching out his wings lazily.

"What's got you brooding?" Cassian asked, eyeing Azriel curiously.

"Still figuring out Nesta's birthday gift," he said drily. It wasn't even a lie.

Cassian sighed.  "Good luck with that, brother. Nes can be quite the challenge to please," he said with a groan. "I still have no idea what to get her and I am her mate. I thought I would get her a new book but the only one she is interested in at the moment is the next Sellyn Drake book and that's not out for 3 weeks," Cassian complained.

Huh.

It seemed like Cassian may have just solved Azriel’s own gift debacle.

How high were the chances that he could talk Sky into giving him an early peek at her newest book?

Apparently it was as simple as asking. She gave it to him without hesitation, with a smile and he loved her just a little bit more just for that.

And he did love her. So fucking much.

It was so easy to be with her. So easy.

Azriel had never felt like this with anyone before. It was effortless to be with her, to be himself around her. She never expected anything from him, never pushed him to be someone he wasn't. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him completely.

She even accepted the shadows.

Azriel knew that the shadows were a part of him, and he had always been conscious of the way they might make people uncomfortable. But with Sky, it was different. She didn't shy away from them or make him feel like he needed to hide them from her. She even seemed to find a certain beauty in them.

She never flinched away, even when the shadows whispered against her skin...even when they touched her.

It was as if, for the first time, the shadows were not something to be feared or loathed. They were simply just a part of him, and she accepted them as such. She never asked him to change or try to control them, and it was a freedom he had never experienced before.

And quite frankly...he would rather stay with her, in their house and let himself be bullied by her cat that to sit through another family dinner.

But he did it. Just for Nesta. It was her birthday after all.

It wasn't going to be that bad. Probably.

He would just remind himself of who was waiting for him at home. That made it easy. 

And it wasn't even that bad. It could be worse.

Rhys even left him alone, mostly because Azriel did his best to stay away from Mor and Elain and Gwyn and Rhys himself for good measure, which left him with the conversation partners of Amren and Varian...and then he just needed to stay silent and let his mind wander to the feeling of Sky's hands when she scratched his scalp...the way she snuggled up to him in her sleep...to the freckles that covered her face...Azriel let his mind drift to thoughts of Sky as he sat at dinner, choosing to ignore the others' conversation. 

He knew that Rhys was probably watching him with a smug look on his face, probably thinking that Azriel was thinking of Elain instead. But Azriel didn't care. He was content in his thoughts of Sky.

Finally, they were handing gifts to Nesta, which meant that the evening was coming to an end.

Thank the cauldron for that. 

Azriel watched as Nesta unwrapped gifts from the others: jewelry from Amren, a painting of Velaris from Feyre…

“Happy Birthday,” Azriel told her softly as he handed her his gift.

“Thank you,” Nesta told him graciously, smiling at him. “Oh, chocolate!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm at the bag of chocolate candies that was tied to her gift with ribbon. 

Azriel smiled, watching as Nesta excitedly tore open the bag of chocolate candies that he had bought her…Sky and him had taken an ambling walk through Velaris one afternoon, ending near the rainbow in a tiny candy shop where his mate procured her caramel candies from and he had picked them up for Nesta. 

Well, that and a few different ones to try for him and Sky.

He was just glad that Nesta seemed to like it. And then Nesta unwrapped the book.

“Cassian said you were very excited to finally read it,” he told her drily. Nesta flipped it over, eyes devouring the title.

“HOW?!” She demanded, her voice half a screech. A far cry from how composed and quiet she usually was. “How did you get it?!?” And then she was already moving to hug him fiercely, pressing a kiss against his cheek. Azriel chuckled, giving her a quick hug back. He was glad that she seemed to like his gift so much.

"Cassian let it slip that you were interested in the new Sellyn Drake book, so I thought I'd pull some strings and get you an early copy," he explained. "Happy Birthday, Nesta."

“What kind of fucking strings did you pull?!” Cassian complained pouting. “I went to every bookstore in Velaris and none could get it to me earlier than in three weeks.” 

Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at Cassian's complaint. "You know me, Cassian. I have my ways," he drawled. "Maybe you just need to expand your network."

“You had the shadows steal it, didn’t you?” Cassian asked him with a glare. Azriel couldn’t help but snort.

“No, I asked Sellyn Drake to give it to me and she did,” he said drily. “Though I'm sure Nesta couldn't care less how I got the book, as long as she gets to read it."

“Oh, I do care.” Nesta assured him immediately. “You asked Sellyn Drake? Nobody knows who she is! You know her? How? When? Why?”

Azriel chuckled, amused by Nesta's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I know Sellyn Drake. I asked her for a favor, and she obliged. Simple as that. As for the why, well, I knew how badly you wanted to read her new novel, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday,” he told her easily, smiling softly at Azriel. 

Cassian still looked suspicious, eyeing Azriel with a critical eye. "You asked the author herself to give you an early copy of her book? Just like that?" he asked skeptically.

“Just like that,” Azriel said calmly.

“So she actually exists?” Gwynn asked him curiously, everybody turned to stare at her. “What?! You know I had my theory!”

“Gwyn’s theory is that Sellyn Drake isn’t one single person, but instead a whole group of incredible talented authors,” Nesta said with a grin.

"Oh, she definitely exists. I can vouch for that. She’s very sweet,” Azriel told Nesta simply, who opened her book, hungrily opening the front pages…

“…this is signed,” Nesta breathed. “Sellyn Drake knows my name.” 

He was pretty sure that he had heard religious people sound less worshipping than Nesta did at that moment. 

For just a moment he wanted to think about how it would be for Nesta and Sky to meet, but he forced himself not to. Not where Rhys could snap that up. 

“What?! No way!” Emerie exclaimed, clambering to take a look at the book. “Cauldron boil me.” She breathed.

“There isn’t a single signed Sellyn Drake book!” Gwyn exclaimed. 

Azriel couldn't help but chuckle at the others’ reactions. "Well, I guess that makes this a pretty special gift then," he said simply, sipping his wine with a satisfied smile.

“Very special,” Nesta told him softly, looking at him wideyed. “This is…This is incredible, Az.” 

Azriel merely inclined his head, accepting the comment. “I’m glad "It's not often that I can surprise someone who's as hard to impress as you are."

Nesta gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You know I'm not that hard to please," she told him. "You just have to know me well enough to know what I want. And apparently you do. Thank you.”

[hannieehaee]

Please i just want to read a smut about having a rough sex with hoshi because he's jealous when he heard his gf got confessed by her male friend. 👉👈 (It would be nice if he won't stop even if you cry in pain, saying that it's a punishment) (Just skip this if you're uncomfortable..)

18+ / mdi

content: jealous!soonyoung, smut, established relationship, he acts a little toxic but not that much, rough sex but completely consensual, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1807

a/n: thank u for the request!!

masterlist

"babe, can i borrow your phone? i left mine in my gym bag and i'm too lazy to go get it," soonyoung mumbled as he laid down on your lap, hair being played with and thoroughly comfortable.

"yeah, here," you handed it to him without much thought.

neither of you had a tendency to go through each other's phones, but you had exchanged passwords and were very casual about picking up the other's phones whenever you felt like it. there was too much trust between you to really overthink these things. which wad why you had no issue giving him your phone while he didn't have his own at hand.

soonyoung laid there for a while, perusing instagram and other social medias while you read an ebook, holding it with one hand while playing with his hair with the other. you didn't pay much mind to him while you entertained yourself with your story, and the same could be said about him.

the calm silence accompanied by some show playing in the background was interrupted mere minutes later by a characteristically loud gasp from soonyoung.

"babe, who the hell is this loser?", he asked, rushing to sit up beside you and showing you your phone.

"hm? who?" you barely looked up from your book as he pressed to your side.

"some loser. cooper," he huffed.

on screen was a conversation he'd seemingly pulled up, with the name 'cooper coworker' displayed at the top. it took a few seconds for it to dawn on you what you were looking at.

"oh. that's just my coworker. why? what'd he say?", you didn't care too much about the conversation, but you were slightly curious as to why soonyoung had pulled it up. it wasn't really like him to check your messages.

"the notification just popped up so i went on it, sorry," he was sheepish about it before fully handing you the phone, letting you take a look at the conversation in question, "but, uh, what does he mean by this?"

there were a few prior messages to the newer ones, which were all from different time stamps and very tame in nature, usually just being shift trades or confirmations about work projects. the final few were the ones soonyoung had accidentally intercepted before you could check.

from: cooper coworker

hey can we talk about what happened the other day?

the first one was tame enough, suddenly reminding you of what'd happened a few weeks back, but the poor boy practically vibrating next to you made you opt to keep reading before clarifying the situation to him.

from: cooper coworker

i just wanted to see if you'd reconsider. i'd really like to take you out

i felt like you were just dismissing me with the whole boyfriend thing. i asked belinda and she said she's never seen you with any guy

anyways my offer for dinner's still up if you wanna

it amused you for the most part. the original interaction had been so tame and forgettable you'd completely disregarded the whole thing as soon as it happened.

cooper wasnt someone you saw on a daily basis, so his name hadnt registered when soonyoung had told you who the message was from. when he came up to you to ask if you'd like to have dinner, you were slightly surprised, not entirely sure of who he was. the easiest thing to say in response was that you had a boyfriend and werent interested (which was very much the truth). he had simply nodded in response and mostly taken it like a champ.

you wish you could say that his insistence surprised you, but it was a classic guy move. to act nonchalant at rejection only to come back ten times as insistent as before.

the situation made you wanna roll your eyes and just block him, but you guessed that maybe soonyoung would want an explanation sometime soon before his entire body combusted. the sight was cute, at least.

you sighed, "it's just some guy from work who asked me out, soonie. nothing too important."

that wasn't enough for him.

he whined, nudging your knee as he put the phone down, "what does he mean by 'the whole boyfriend thing'? what, do you work with this loser? who does he think he is? i'm your lockscreen, what the fuck is wrong with him? should i go talk to him? i'll do it, babe, just-"

"soonyoung! it's fine. i'll block him if it makes you feel better. i never talk to him anyways. everyone else at work knows i have a boyfriend. it's just some stupid guy. no threat whatsoever," you reassured him.

that seemed to calm him down momentarily. his breath evened and his rambling halted. he remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

"that's not good enough."

"what?"

suddenly he got up, grabbing your phone in one hand and your arm with the other and leading you out of the living room. within moments you were in your room, being pushed towards your bed and losing your balance and falling onto it.

"soonyoung, what the fuck-"

throwing your phone onto the bed, he approached you, telling you to keep facing forward as he pushed you further onto the bed. undoing his sweats as he approached you. his tone had been cold and entirely void of emotion, causing your brain to go numb and follow along with his instruction. you'd been too distracted by the removal of your own sweats to hear his following instruction, causing him to harshly pull you against him to get your attention before repeating himself.

"w-what?"

"i said, text him. tell him you're not interested and block him."

that was easy enough.

you reached over to the phone he'd thrown onto the bed and opened it back up, searching for the conversation in order to draft up a message.

but before you were even able to start, a huge distraction entered you.

immediately upon penetrating you, soonyoung went at it like crazy. it was like he had zero concern for anything other than fucking his entire essence into you.

you screamed out at the sudden intrusion and continued to gasp and mewl at the consequent thrusts into your hole. your hands shook as you gripped onto the phone, elbows hurting from putting your weight on them in order to hold onto the phone.

but soonyoung didnt care. no, on the contrary, any time you'd scream out his name, he'd go even harder, fingers surely bruising your hips due to how harshly he held onto you.

"i don't see you texting him, baby," he huffed in between thrusts, "need me to dictate it to you? brain too cockdrunk to think?"

he was mocking you, but he was right. you were usually nicely moist for him, but the moment he threw you onto the bed, it was like your mind was taken over by a docile and horny version of yourself, making you lose any ability to think for yourself by every passing moment.

unable to respond properly, you nodded, moving to try and type whatever he'd tell you to type.

"tell him to never contact you again, or else your boyfriend might get mad, okay, baby? tell him, fuck, tell him you already have the perfect guy taking care of you every night," he groaned in between thrusts, huffing and puffing at how tight you'd get for him.

you typed up the message to the best of your ability, surely getting a ton of typos in the process but not caring enough to correct them. this guy was nothing compared to soonyoung, especially not in this moment. the message in itself was slightly embarrassing to share with some random coworker, but your brain wasn't working properly at the moment.

hitting send, you thought that'd be the end of it. that now you'd be able to enjoy soonyoung's cock in peace. except that bastard replied immediately, and soonyoung managed to catch it from behind you.

suddenly, he started hammering even harder into you, genuine anger filling his veins at the response you'd received.

from: cooper coworker

lol that sounds kinda toxic. u deserve better than that guy

"'toxic'? did he just call me toxic?," he gaped between gasped breaths, "block him," he demanded, "block that fucking dumbass, i- fuck, i'm gonna-"

that's when he started going as hard as humanly possible, still letting out expletives against the coworker you'd forgotten about the moment you'd gone back home that day to your soonyoung. it hurt, but it hurt so good. it was the most pleasurable pain you'd ever felt. surely it'd lead to traces of pain after the fact, but it all felt worth it as soonyoung hammered into you with all strength available in his body.

"h-hurts, soonie, it's too much ..." you managed to sigh out, arms giving out under you and head pressing onto the mattress.

the comforter under you quickly became damp with a mixture if tears and drool, but you were too brain dead to process it.

"no, baby, this ... this, fucking shit, is to show you that you're mine. that no idiot guy can even think of, shit, fuck, of looking your way," he practically growled.

his labored breath accompanied by his broken sentences told you all you needed to know. you were about to be filled up by his load and there was nothing you wanted more. you'd never been claimed by someone in such a way and the euphoria that came with it was addictive.

with more curses and filthy expletives, soonyoung filled you up. his warmth inside you led to your own orgasm, making you completely fall onto the bed the moment he pulled out and took away his hold on you.

you didn't have any time to whine at the loss before he reappeared and began hastily cleaning you up, laying you on your back so he could kiss your cheek as he wiped at the drool and tears drying on your face.

when you opened your eyes, you found a completely different image of the soonyoung who had just defiled you to hell and back. staring back at you wad a hamster-faced cutie with some sort of worry in his eyes. his smile was sheepish and his movements way softer than usual. you couldn't left a giggle leaving your lips, which in turn caused him to relax and chuckle back.

"uh, sorry about that. just- uh, i got mad, i think ... at him! not at you! you're perfect," he rambled on in usual soonyoung fashion.

he was the cutest thing ever.

"it's okay, soonie. i'm not mad. feel free to do that again any time you want," you sat up to give him a kiss, earning a happy hum from him.

"oh, ah, yes. noted."

[koolades-world]

alright, cute idea three out of four! i'm on a roll right now :) after writing it, i'm less sure of how much of fluff this is. i had intended to make it much cuter lol. maybe this is more hurt/comfort? i was listening to the mizu5 song for my proseka followers so things took a bit of a turn there. this is short, but several of the lines go hard imo

after all that writing the word tradgety (tragety? trajety?) and i still can't spell it right...

the greatest human tragedy

If you'd asked Satan what the greatest human tragedy was before the exchange program, he would've confidently answered the burning of the Library of Alexandria.

The amount of lost literature made his heart ache. Every time he was reminded, he couldn't help but wish he'd gone more when it was still standing. He was lucky enough to own some copies of the books that were lost, but he was only allowed to have so many.

His opinion began to sway when you entered his life.

He began to grow unsure of himself and the solidity of his answer. The blinding light that you were seeped through the cracks in the walls he’d built up around himself. You were quite literally nothing less than a saint to him. You treated him kindly, and helped him work on himself, asking for nothing in return. He was lost in the ocean that was you.

After getting to know you, his answer changed. If you asked him now what the greatest human tragedy was, he'd immediately answer you. Not because you exist. On the contrary, you're the greatest thing to happen to the three realms. No, he'd say this because your life span is a blip in time compared to his. The day he loses you will be the day the Devildom freezes over.

God must've made you mortal to taunt him.

Human life was fragile, and he was aware of this. But once he'd gotten to know you, it fully clicked at just how little it would take to bring you down. The first you got sick while in the Devildom was a whirlwind of a day for everyone but you. Fate was playing a cruel joke on him, stringing him along like a marionette and dragging him towards the inevitable.

He was drawn towards you like a moth to the flame. He wasn't sure what he'd do just yet, but as of right now, he planned to savor your time together. He wasn't sure if he was in a tragedy or comedy, but he wasn't sure which to hope for either. He hated the amount of uncertiantly this issue was acompanied by

Being born had been a curse for not only his brothers, but for himself. However, he was grateful for you. He wasn't sure how he'd cross the bridge of mortality with you, but he'd pour all of his candle wax into yours if he had to.

Anything for the greatest human tragedy he called his lover.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

If you sometimes come across the term “banned books” but don’t really know what it means, here’s a simple little introduction to the topic: 

“Banned books” refers to books that have been censored or removed from libraries, schools, or bookstores due to objections from certain groups or individuals.

When we read that definition, I think a really common and understandable response is: „whoa, okay, these must be really bad books full of dangerous ideas!“… and in some way, that’s true. 

Because, you see, to someone with a homophobic worldview, any book with a gay character is really bad and dangerous. And to a child abuser, any book that educates children on consent is really bad and dangerous. 

Among the top reasons for book bans are lgbt+ content, sexual content (including sexual education or education on sexual abuse), themes of racism and themes like drug use or addiction. Over the years, many books with significant cultural and educational value have faced bans - and this continues to be an issue all around the world, including in the US. 

When books are banned, it restricts the access to information people (including kids and teenagers) need to understand themselves and others. This negatively affects queer people and other marginalized groups (for example people of color or disabled people) but it also impacts everyone else. Diversity in literature enriches our understanding of the diversity of real life. It helps to build empathy, compassion, kindness and understanding. Access to different stories and viewpoints is vital for an inclusive society. 

Censoring queer books in particular also normalizes the message that queer experiences are inappropriate or “dirty” - which, again, is really beneficial to homophobes and transphobes. If it feels safe for them to say that queer books harm children, it paves the way for all other kinds of discrimination and harassment of queer people. 

Now you may think “this all makes sense when it comes to books with gay characters! But didn’t you also mention stuff like sexual abuse and addiction and racism up there? These are indeed bad and dangerous things!” 

I think this is another really common thought. These things happen in real life and it can be uncomfortable to even think about them. But that’s precisely why we need books about those “uncomfortable” topics! 

We may not like the idea that a child hears about racism or abuse - but in a world where kids can experience racism and abuse, they also need to be able to read about racism and abuse. They need to be able to say “this is what’s happening to me and this is not okay”. We need to be able to name bad things when they happen to us or when we witness them happening to others. We need an understanding of and a language for bad things. That’s the only way to fight the bad things. 

Another thought you may have is “Okay, and now what? I don’t have the power to do anything about all this anyway”, and honestly I wouldn’t blame you for that one either. Hearing about book bans (on top of all the other negative stuff we hear about) can feel really depressing. But there are things you can do to push back and help keep diverse stories accessible - even if you are young or have limited resources! 

Some ideas: 

use your public library (many public libraries actively resist censorship and make banned books available!) 

use a digital library (services like Libby and Project Gutenberg offer free access to many books) 

look out for online petitions or letter-writing campaigns by organizations that oppose book bans (for example PEN in America) 

look up if there are any “little free libraries” in your area (free book-sharing box operating on the honor system: anyone can take or leave a book for no cost) 

look up if there are any book swapping events in your area 

take part in reading groups, book clubs etc. (either in person or online) 

And of course the big one: if you can afford to buy books - make a point to buy banned books (or more generally, queer books and books from marginalized authors and books on topics that frequently get banned)! As a starting point, you can find lists of banned books online. Wikipedia has one, for example. 

If you have a bigger budget, you could even buy multiple copies and put some in your local “little free library” or bring them to book-swapping events or gift them to friends etc! (You could also ask your local public library (or school library or prison library or youth center or women’s shelter etc) if they take book donations, but you may want to hold off on buying before they say yes - not all of them can accept donations!).

Happy reading and resisting!

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky didn’t have much of a temper.

Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience. 

It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse. 

So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated. 

Getting angry wouldn’t help her. 

That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess. 

Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel 

It was Winter Solstice.

Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.

They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…

She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch. 

She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)   

Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else. 

It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted. 

And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…

Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.

A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.

That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.

It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven. 

From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.) 

Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.

Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.

“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend. 

Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate. 

Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister. 

A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire. 

It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said. 

But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.” 

They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)  

Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.

“He…He's a g…good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.

Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.

"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"

It wasn’t a line. It was the truth. 

Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally. 

 Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.

"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."

It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her. 

But right now…right now it didn’t really. 

She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her? 

Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.

“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.

That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word. 

“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”

“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do.  And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”

Everything ground to a halt.

“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”

Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.

"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked. 

She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that. 

“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”

Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words. 

This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him. 

And…and this was what he told her to her face. 

“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.

“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate. 

“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”

"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."

Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”

Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.

“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.

It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing. 

Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.

“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"

"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"

“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.

And Sky was done.

Somehow that was the last straw. 

Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable. 

It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into. 

“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”

Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.

"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.

Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.

"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"

Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.

"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”

“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.

He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots. 

And somehow that made it even easier. 

“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .

"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”

Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.

All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate. 

“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy. 

“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”

Fodder. 

“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”

"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."

Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.

"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed. 

And suddenly it was so easy. 

“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”

She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.

Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.

Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared. 

*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.

Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.

Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.

“Come here,” Sky said quietly.

The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.

Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.

"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.

"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."

With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high. 

***

Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.

He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.

He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it.  Not that he particularly cared right now.

*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.

The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.

*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully. 

Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace. 

“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”

Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy. 

"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh. 

“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.

“You gave the orders, High Lord.”

If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!

"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"

“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”

Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."

“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.

“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.

"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”

“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”

"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.

Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"

"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.

"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically. 

"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."

“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped. 

Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."

”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"

Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."

His entertainment. 

Right. 

Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."

“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.

Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.

Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."

"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”

“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”

Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."

“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”

Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.

"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."

“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.

"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”

Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.

So fucking done. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.

“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.” 

“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”

“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.

“What?” Rhys asked. 

“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”

Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it. 

“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing. 

“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”

"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.

Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”

“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.

Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"

“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

[harpieisthecarpie]

Thanks for the peer review o7 i will use this power for ramble

I do think that a lot of the fic sex/romance issues were started in a genuine push to not spread misinformation, bc iirc fics used to parrot a lot of common myths re: intercourse (even moreso than now), especially ones about non-"traditional" non-cishet practices. And safety. And anatomy.

Which, it's cool and good to see a push for sex positivity and education! But I do feel there's now a pressure (internal or external) for the sexual aspects of fic to be textbook safe, sane, and consensual in all avenues.

I have 2 main reasons (beyond fic ≠ sex ed) that the squeaky clean route shouldn't be our only route. Which are: characterization, and erotica vs romance.

Firstly, characterization:

Intimacy can be an amazing way to explore characters, a relationship, or even a setting in your story. You can miss out on a lot by treating sex as simply a lesson rather than a tool in your narrative toolbelt!

Tbh I think the reason gen z ppl (like me) often say we "hate sex scenes" in media is bc they feel unnecessarily explicit or unnecessary in general, and we often don't have the language for what the problem is. Or we misattribute the ickiness to sex scenes happening at all!

I'm grayace and they can be boring af, or sometimes creepy as hell for reasons unrelated to the narrative (stop auteur directors now! /hj).

But one of my fave fave fave book series is the Binding Light trilogy by Freya Marske (I think the author's on tumblr actually), in which the sex scenes are narratively pivotal. And I, the sex scene hater, love the series sm I didn't even have to look up the title or author just now!! Unheard of!!!

These books are so dear to me bc the intimate scenes mirror both the (wonderful, superb) magic system AND the characters' relationships! Their sexual vulnerability and connection evolves alongside the characters' development. I've never before rambled about breathplay as a metaphor for trust, but Marske had me writing ESSAYS. My apologies to my friends' DMs

At first I had skipped those sex scenes, but once I had to go back for plot info, actually reading them made me go "oh holy shit this is all important".

I think stories miss that relevence pretty often. You don't NEED to have sex scenes, but also you CAN have them wherever it feels right.

IMO It's important to treat intimacy (of all kinds) in a work as character exploration first, rather than purely mile markers or something for characters (and writers) to "get a good grade in"

Moving on to erotica vs romance:

I've recently been watching a lot of SAVY WRITES BOOKS on youtube, and in one of her CoHo reviews she talked about the difference between works labelled "erotica" and "romance".

To her, romance novels have a sense of realism, they exist in a world that functions (at least adjacently) like ours. A romance would treat consent and safe sex like we do irl (or some historical equivalent based on setting). Basically, characters wouldn't be able to smash in a subway car without getting charged with public indecency.

Thus, if the characters were practicing BDSM, they would on some level acknowledge they're performing a scene (ex. consent check-ins and safewords). Here we have some level of RACK. Or if its unhealthy, there's framing acknowledging that fact!

Whereas erotica exists inside that BDSM scene! An erotic fic that tags its kinks and content correctly has given you enough for you to have informed consent. If you read the fic, you will thus be reading the "fantasy" of a BDSM scene. We know this isn't necessarily realistic or healthy, and that's fine! We read it with the knowledge it's not meant to be!

Uhhhh so. This was a really long way for me to explain "fanfic isn't sex ed so it's fine if they don't always use contraceptive"

tl;dr Intimacy and sex are cool for characterization. And smut is a Scene, if a person is informed of its contents all consent is accounted for :)

author’s notes today: hey guys so just a warning there isn’t 100% explicit verbal consent even though they’re both really into it so remember this is FICTION, also they don’t use a condom :((( but in real life safe sex is important!!! please be safe out there everyone

a/n back in the day: kept thinking about ____ stabbing knives through both of _____’s hands to pin him in place while they fucked so here you go lol =P

[questions-about-blorbos]

With all the proship stances you've been making recently I just wanted to put my two cents in:

I feel like the reason proshipping gets the reputation it has is because of apps like tiktok where younger people hear a term, water it down to the absolute max and then apply it to nearly everything they dislike, and people make it way worse than it actually is

"Fiction affects reality" is the most used stance i see and to some degree they are right but. Holy moly two characters doing immoral things to eachother isn't gonna change the world, especially when its a situation where you can choose to see it or not

If you really don't wanna see that thing then block and move on, it isn't that hard

(For the record i am not an anti or a proshipper i think labels for ships are dumb: i mainly agree with everything you have said and I do not personally enjoy stuff like noncon or pedophilia in fiction, just to give you an idea)

to be fair, the “proship” and “anti ship” have been one of the most famous fandom discourses way before TikTok was even created.

and I believe that if people do terrible things in real life because of something they saw from a piece of media then chances are they were already troubled and they would have done those terrible things anyway whether or not they consumed that media, as @allthingswhumpyandangsty said before, people do bad things in real life because they are bad people. a movie, a tv show, a book or a fanfic doesn’t make someone do bad things.

no one starts murdering and eating people in real life because they like Hannibal. so the term “fiction affects reality” is a very weak stance because while fiction can affect reality, fiction alone isn’t going to make someone eat people in real life because that someone is a big fan of Hannibal. my point is, yes, fiction can affect reality. but it’s not going to affect reality to the point the entirety of people’s moral compass change. and if it does get to that point then the real issue would be that these people were already troubled. not because they watched a tv show where the main character is a cannibal.

also, yes, the block button is your friend. see something that makes you uncomfortable? that’s what the block button is for. harassing people for liking fictional things you hate just makes you a shitty person in general who values the lives of fictional characters who are not real over the lives of real people.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hey 💜💜 wondering if you could write something where Damian and reader have been trying to have a baby for so long, and they've done all the treatments, but nothing ever worked, so they’ve stopped "trying". And then she ends up pregnant randomly, and her gift to him on Christmas is a positive test or a cute onesie or whatever, and it takes him a minute to actually believe her 💜💜

i love this request so much! working on it!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️mention of infertility, pregnancy, pregnancy sickness, a little angst, mention of smut, fluff and comfort‼️

early christmas present

one year and a half.

one year and a half of you and damian trying to have a family together. one year and a half of you going from doctor to doctor, clinic to clinic and changing different treatments and yet nothing ever happened.

maybe it wasn’t meant to be. maybe you and damian weren’t fit to be parents and this was the sign. maybe it wasn’t meant for you to be a mother in this lifetime, no matter how much you wanted to be.

and you spent a year and a half blaming yourself. you reached to a point where you tried to break up with damian, saying how he deserved someone who could give him a family.

he thought you were crazy when you said that. he loved you so much and the idea of losing you was killing him, so, after a lot of therapy sessions, sleepless nights crying in each other’s arms, you came to the conclusion that it wasn’t really meant to be and that there was nothing you could do about it.

the idea of being infertile never crossed your mind so it was a big shock to you but as time passed by, you learned how to live with that and instead of focusing on the bad things, you took your life back.

a few people in the company knew or more - heard - about you and damian not being able to have kids and tried to suggest you many different options, from adoption to surrogacy but even if they seemed having good intentions, it pain you to know that your own problems became public domain.

you and damian lived your life. he promised to stay by your side and he did. he knew how much you wanted this and he was hurting at the idea of you feeling like it was your fault.

you found strength to take your mind off of that and focusing on different things. helping damian training, having dates like it was your first time together, spending much needed time in each other’s company. all the little things you loved that felt lost a year ago.

passionate nights with damian, him reminding you how much he loved you and appreciated you. you felt like yourself again and you got used of being just you and him, even if it meant for the rest of your life.

about a week ago you got sick. thinking it was just a normal cold, you let it go. but it got worse when the delicious smell of fresh bread and coffee became unbearable for you and got you nauseous every single morning.

“stomach issues again?” damian softly asked when he saw the disgust painted on your face.

“i think so…it smells so bad damian” you tried to joke when damian backed off so he could drink his coffee without making you feel worse.

“do you want me to make you something else? eggs? bacon? pancakes? anything you like?” he was so caring with you but the idea of eating made you even sicker.

“i feel like i could throw up the whole menu” you said making him laugh “i booked an appointment for today, i’m having a check up, maybe i got some virus or something…nothing too serious” you tried to remain calm but the idea of being sick for so long made you worry.

“i wish i could come with you but i promised rhea i would help her train…let me call her so i can come with you” he was about to pick up the phone but you stopped him.

“it’s not necessary damian, i promise” you smiled “she needs you, i’ll see you later on tonight” he knew that you wouldn’t have let him ditch rhea for a simple check up and he knew that no matter what he said, you wouldn’t let him come.

he nodded, moving the coffee away so he could properly kiss you before you left the house.

a couple of hours later and you were sitting in your car, watching the people passing by as you were trying to elaborate what the doctor just told you.

you weren’t sick - you were pregnant.

you were pretty sure it was impossible for you but all the tests the doctor ran turned positive.

how?

when?

your mind was racing and you couldn’t stop the million thoughts that were going through it.

sure, you and damian stopped having sex with condoms when you were trying to have a baby and when you learned that you couldn’t have kids you never really cared about safe sex anyway.

but how did it happen if you were infertile?

the doctor didn’t have a proper answer and he already scheduled some appointments to keep you checked, saying that it was almost a miracle.

right now, you were thinking about damian.

how were you going to tell him?

many ideas crossed your mind. from a mug with “best dad”, to a small t-shirt or maybe even a teddy bear.

you wanted to make this special for him too so when you crossed a shoe store on your drive back home, you decided to stop and get some inspiration. immediately your eyes fell upon a baby version of the black nike sneakers he had and you thought it was going to be an awesome gift.

your baby wasn’t even born and yet you were buying matching shoes for them and damian. while wrapping the box, the sale assistant smiled at you, unconsciously knowing that you had in mind.

you couldn’t contain your excitement and enthusiasm so you tried to speed back home.

too much surprise damian was already back and he was watching something show when you entered the front door.

his eyes immediately fell upon you, remembering you had the visit that morning.

“hey mi amor” he smiled “how are you? feeling better? what did the doctor say?” thousands of questions immediately echoed in the room, making you chuckle.

“one question at a time damian” you smiled sitting next to him on the couch “i’m feeling better, thanks, and the doctor gave me an explanation on why i keep getting sick, especially in the morning” you tried not to be so excited but it was hard.

“so?” damian was worried. he couldn’t understand why you were so happy and smiley.

instead of giving him an answer, you took the box right out of your bag and gave it to him “let say this is an early christmas present…and also the reason on why i’m always so sick” you watched him look between you and the box “come on, open it” you smiled.

damian carefully opened the small box and for a moment his heart stopped.

mini shoes? he wasn’t understanding.

and then it clicked.

“what? how? is this real?” his eyes moved between your now teary eyes and the little shoes he was holding in his hands “is it real?”

you nodded, not being able to find enough words.

“we’re gonna be parents?” he asked, now fully already knowing the answer.

“yes…” your voice broke a little but the joy filling the room was worth all of the tears you were shedding.

“this is the best gift i could ever ask for” he wrapped you in his arms and held you as you both cried of joy.

“i already booked the next appointments. the doctor wants to run some more tests and try to understand how i actually got pregnant…and we have an ultrasound appointment in a week too…we’re gonna see the baby soon” you cried onto damian’s shoulder.

“fuck, i love you so much mi amor” he quickly wiped off his tears before softly kiss your lips “and i can’t believe you got us matching shoes” he bursted out laughing.

“i can’t wait to get you matching clothes, matching pjs, matching socks, everything gonna be matching” you joked, making him even happier.

damian’s hand went over your belly “i can’t wait to meet you baby…” he softly spoke making your heart warm “you are already so loved…we love you so much, mama and papa…i can’t believe i’m saying this” he was still high on emotions and you couldn’t blame him.

maybe it really was a christmas miracle.

[xclowniex]

Okay I need peoples opinions in this.

There is a tik tok creator and author who has a series on tik tok they're trying to turn into a book called Cafae Latte.

It is this very queer and diverse series. All characters are played by one woman, the creator who is white.

She has 2 jewish characters, both are dragons who shape shifted into humans. One wears a magen david and the other is orthodox and wears a tichel. The creator wears them when portraying the respective characters

Now I have an issue with this for a few reasons which all fall under the big glaring thing of, they didn't consult any jews or do any research past the surface!

First issue of business is the tichel. I do find it incredibly disrespectful for a non jew to wear a tichel when you're portraying a Jewish character and you can't even get tzniut correctly. It wasn't until they finally got a tichel, that they learnt thay they needed to cover their collar bone and elbows. Especially when you also don't call it a tichel and just call it a "jewish head covering". If you're trying to make a Jewish character who keeps tzniut, these are basic things you should know if you did any research!

Second order of business, the magen david. I do find this disrespectful as it's not really for non jews to wear???? Like it's not like you commit this great atrocity by wearing it. But considering their poor rep with the character above, I doubt they know anything meaning behind it and why its important to jews. Plus it's pretty much literally just used to signify that the character is Jewish and that's it.

Thirdly order of business, idk how else to start this besides, they unjewished hebrew??????

Like they were creating a family crest for one of their jewish characters and had this design with the tree of life and some hebrew and wanted help on getting the hebrew correct and said "hebrew speakers and that probably include jews, I think. I need your help with this hebrew".

Like excuse me what. Not all jews speak hebrew and not all hebrew speakers are jewish, but the majority of hebrew speakers are jewish. Adding jews as this after thought which may technically be included is awful.

Last order of business. This time, not about the jewish characters but the arab and muslim one.

Therre is this character they play who is a Muslim arab amercian and they said in their intro post for this character "I'm not sure which arab country specifically she is from as I'm not educated enough". Like excuse me what. There are cultural differences between different arab countries, not in a way which they're completely different from each other but it is a thing.

And to make matters worse, she has a YouTube video giving tips on writing diversity well.

And idk it just really irks me as they are a published writer, who is all about good diversity representation yet can't even do it properly. Consulting jews, not even jews actually, hebrew speakers to use their words, is not enough to give good rep. You need to talk to rabbis, jewish community leaders in general.

[cazort]

I recommend caution with spermicide. It can act as an irritant, which can make sex uncomfortable or even painful for a significant portion of people. But it's not just a comfort issue, the irritation can increase your susceptibility to STI's.

If you want to do fertility tracking, you really need to learn about it. A good book on it is "Taking Charge of Your Fertility". It will show you how to do it safely as birth control, and also if trying to get pregnant. It also can be useful for troubleshooting your cycle if you have unrelated problems and want more objective information to present to a doctor to say "Hey, something is wrong, here is what my cycle data shows."

Also, I would hope this goes without saying but some people need to hear it: don't have sex with a partner who doesn't take birth control and STI precautions seriously. Like they need to be proactive about it. I'm not even talking not giving pushback on your asking for condom use. I mean that if they don't suggest condoms and/or they don't initiate the conversation about birth control and STI precautions, be suspicious. They need to be taking an active role. If they don't, drop them, you can do better.

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

Plan B has a shelf life of 4 years

(Also, you can get 4 months of over the counter birth control (progestin-only pill form) at Costco for $50. Or 3 months on Amazon for about $45.)

[urdreamydoodles]

MCU Characters x Reader (Part.1)

How they react when you are angry with them (Part.1)

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker (Tom H.), Stephen Strange & Thor Odinson

I'm back in my MCU era, thanks to Agatha All Along, so expect a lot of MCU headcanons, feel free to request those!

Tony Stark

- When you’re angry with Tony, he’s a little stunned. He’s used to being able to charm his way through things or brush issues off with a joke, but the moment he realizes you’re genuinely upset, he feels the ground shift a little. Tony’s mind races, calculating what he did wrong, and for a second, he considers ignoring the problem—but not with you. You mean too much to him, and he can’t stand the idea of pushing you further away.

- He doesn’t immediately know how to apologize, so he leans into his classic defense mechanism: humor. He’ll try to make you laugh, throwing out quips, hoping you’ll crack a smile. When that doesn’t work, he gets a little awkward, mumbling things like, “This is why I avoid real feelings, you know?” as he fumbles through an apology. He’s not used to admitting fault, but with you, he’s learning to swallow his pride.

- Tony goes all out when he realizes he needs to make it up to you. He’ll throw himself into making amends, maybe even a little too extravagantly. Expect some grand, over-the-top gesture—a private jet to Paris, a limited-edition piece of tech he’s been tinkering on, or a fancy dinner in some exclusive place with an outfit he’s bought just for the occasion. He’s not subtle, and he knows it, but he’ll do anything if it means a smile from you.

- When the big gestures don’t work, he takes a different approach. He shows up at your door, looking strangely vulnerable, with something small and meaningful. Maybe it’s a handwritten letter he’s scribbled out, confessing how much he hates it when things aren’t okay between you two. It’s raw, real, and completely unlike Tony, but he means every word. This time, he wants to show that he’s willing to put the ego aside for you.

- Once you finally let him back in, Tony wraps you in his arms and doesn’t let go. He’ll joke that he’s not letting you get mad at him again, and maybe throw in a flirty quip about “testing his limits,” but there’s something deeper there too. Being loved by you has changed him, and he’s willing to work on himself for the first time in a long time. With you, Tony’s found a softness he didn’t know he had, and he’s not going to risk losing it.

Steve Rogers

- Steve Rogers doesn’t like conflict, especially not with you. When he realizes you’re angry, he immediately wants to address it and resolve it, hoping it won’t escalate. He tries to have a calm, level-headed conversation, but he can see that maybe it’s too soon. Steve’s patient, though; he’ll give you space if you need it, even if it pains him to let go for a while.

- While you’re cooling off, Steve takes time to reflect, replaying the situation in his mind, wondering where he went wrong. He’s his own worst critic and can be hard on himself, especially when it comes to you. He’ll try to see things from your perspective, understanding that sometimes his old-fashioned sense of right and wrong can be rigid. He’s willing to bend if it’s what’s needed to bridge the gap between you.

- When he approaches you again, he’s soft-spoken and earnest, offering a sincere apology. There are no excuses, no justifications—just him, owning up to whatever hurt you. His gaze doesn’t leave yours; he wants you to know he truly means it. And as he speaks, he promises he’ll do better, vowing to always listen to you and consider your feelings.

- To make it up to you, Steve chooses something simple but thoughtful, probably something he knows you love. It could be as quiet as a walk through your favorite park or as gentle as a handwritten note tucked into a book you’re reading. Steve understands that sometimes, it’s the little things that mean the most. He’ll give you the space to talk, letting you vent if you need to, always steady, always attentive.

- Once the air clears, Steve is more affectionate than usual, holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, grateful to be back in your good graces. He values trust deeply and doesn’t take your forgiveness for granted. Steve knows relationships take work, and he’s fully committed to making it work with you, one respectful conversation at a time.

Natasha Romanoff

- Natasha doesn’t like it when things are off between you two, but she’s used to people being mad at her. Initially, she tries to shrug it off, acting like she doesn’t care, maybe even trying to ignore it. But you’re different. You’re not just anyone; you’re someone she actually trusts, and seeing you upset with her hits her hard.

- Natasha is far more comfortable dealing with enemies than emotional confrontations, so when she finally comes to you, she does it in a roundabout way. She might casually ask, “Are we good?” as if it’s not a big deal, but the nervous tension in her voice betrays her. She’s not great at apologies, so her attempt is awkward but sincere. It’s clear she’s trying, even if she doesn’t always have the words.

- To make it up to you, Natasha doesn’t go for big gestures but rather something deeply personal. She’ll take you to a place she loves—a quiet spot on a rooftop, a hidden café she discovered, somewhere she can let her guard down. She’s careful, almost shy, as she opens up a little about herself, sharing stories she rarely tells. In her own way, she’s letting you know how much she values you.

- Natasha doesn’t usually do comfort, but she’ll go out of her way to make you feel loved and safe. Maybe she’ll surprise you with breakfast or bring you something she knows you’ve been wanting. She pays attention, after all, even if she doesn’t always show it. Little by little, she’ll find ways to let you know that she’s there, committed to making things right.

- When you finally forgive her, Natasha breathes a sigh of relief, leaning in for a hug that lasts a beat longer than usual. She’s not big on words, but she’ll whisper something soft and sincere, just for you. Natasha’s fiercely protective, and after a falling-out, she’s even more attuned to making sure you feel cared for. She’ll stay close, a steady presence at your side, her quiet way of showing just how much she values you.

Bruce Banner

- When you’re angry with Bruce, he’s instantly anxious, worried he’s done something terribly wrong. Conflict isn’t his strong suit, and he’s painfully aware of his capacity for anger. He’s cautious, almost timid, when he realizes you’re upset, giving you space and time. He doesn’t want to make things worse or risk saying the wrong thing.

- Bruce spends time overthinking the situation, dissecting every detail. He questions himself, often getting caught in a loop of self-blame, wondering if he’s ever really been suited for a relationship. But even though he’s scared of confrontation, he values you too much to leave things unresolved. He wants to show you that he’s willing to work through whatever the issue is.

- When he finally comes to you, Bruce’s apology is soft, heartfelt, and a little self-deprecating. He’ll stumble through his words, not wanting to sound defensive, and there’s an earnestness in his gaze as he tries to convey just how much he wants to make things right. He’s not perfect, but he’s open to listening and doing better.

- To make it up to you, Bruce goes for something intimate and personal. He knows you appreciate small gestures, so he’ll show up with something that reflects his feelings for you—maybe a small book he thinks you’d love, or a little experiment from the lab that made him think of you. He’s shy about it, maybe a little embarrassed, but it’s his way of showing he cares.

- When you finally forgive him, Bruce visibly relaxes, wrapping you in a hug as if he never wants to let go. He’s careful, soft, and almost tentative, savoring the warmth of your embrace. Bruce cherishes the trust you give him and is deeply grateful to have someone willing to weather his insecurities. He might even joke, “You’re way too patient with me,” but the gratitude in his voice is genuine.

Clint Barton

- When Clint realizes you’re angry with him, his first reaction is a mix of regret and a slight laugh. He can’t believe he’s managed to mess things up this badly with you, of all people. He knows he tends to joke around a bit too much, so he tries to laugh it off at first, but when he sees how serious you are, his grin fades. He’ll look a bit awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing he’s got some work to do.

- Clint’s never been one to give big, elaborate apologies. Instead, he’ll pull you aside, speaking quietly and genuinely. He’ll admit that he messed up, explaining that sometimes he forgets to take things seriously or considers others’ feelings the way he should. It’s a simple, heartfelt apology, showing his honest side that not many people get to see.

- Once he’s apologized, Clint is all about making you laugh. He’ll start cracking jokes, doing his best impressions, and even pull some ridiculous faces just to get a reaction out of you. Clint knows humor is his best weapon, and he’s shameless about using it if it means making things right. He’s determined not to let you stay mad at him for long, no matter what it takes.

- When his jokes don’t quite cut it, Clint switches gears and puts effort into something he knows will mean a lot to you. He’s a guy who pays attention to the little things, so he’ll show up with your favorite takeout, a warm blanket, or maybe even a funny book he picked up just for you. He knows that it’s the small gestures that can speak volumes.

- After things settle down, Clint wraps you in a warm, comfortable hug, one arm wrapped around your shoulder, making you feel like everything’s back to normal. He’ll joke about how lucky he is that you put up with him, throwing in a wink, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind his words. Clint doesn’t take his relationships for granted, and he’s grateful you’re in his life, even when he messes up.

Bucky Barnes

- Bucky’s heart sinks when he sees that you’re angry. He’s used to pushing people away, and now that he’s got you, he’s terrified of losing you over a misunderstanding. Bucky’s first instinct is to retreat, his mind already whispering that maybe he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you. He’ll avoid confrontation if he can, hoping things might smooth over on their own.

- But when he realizes he needs to talk to you, he’s hesitant, nervous, almost as if he’s bracing himself for rejection. Bucky approaches you carefully, speaking in a low, almost shy voice. He struggles with apologies, but he looks you in the eyes, opening up about how hard he finds it to express his feelings. He’s used to running, and being with you is the first time he’s tried not to.

- Bucky tries to make it up to you in the most low-key, thoughtful way possible. He’s not one for grand gestures, but he’ll do something meaningful and heartfelt, like leaving you a note explaining how much you mean to him or bringing you something that he knows you love. He’s nervous about whether it’ll be enough, hoping you can see the sincerity in his actions.

- When he feels things softening between you, Bucky relaxes just a little, offering his support in any way you need. He’ll stay close, maybe cooking a meal for you or sitting quietly with you, sharing a comfortable silence. He wants you to know that he’s there, without needing to say much, because he’s always believed that actions speak louder than words.

- When you finally forgive him, Bucky is beyond relieved. He’s more open with his affection, drawing you into a tight embrace, his touch lingering as if he’s afraid to let go. He knows he doesn’t have many people he can count on, but he’s grateful that he can count on you. Bucky’s still working on believing he deserves happiness, but having you in his life makes him want to try.

Sam Wilson

- Sam immediately notices when you’re angry, and his first instinct is to find out what’s going on. He’s straightforward and doesn’t like tension hanging in the air, so he’ll ask, “Alright, what did I do?” in his calm, genuine way, hoping you’ll be willing to talk it out. He’s good at reading people, but he wants to hear it from you directly.

- Sam listens intently when you explain what’s bothering you, nodding and giving you his full attention. He’s respectful and thoughtful, making sure you know he understands where you’re coming from. He’s not the type to dodge blame; if he’s at fault, he’ll own up to it right away. There’s no defensiveness, no excuses—just an honest desire to make things right.

- To make it up to you, Sam takes you on a simple, meaningful outing—something where the two of you can connect and have fun. He’s all about shared experiences, so maybe it’s a long walk, a favorite food spot, or even a small adventure he’s planned just for you. He’s careful, attentive, making sure the focus is on you and helping you feel valued.

- When things calm down, Sam offers a mix of humor and reassurance, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and promising to do better. He’ll look you in the eyes and say something like, “I don’t like seeing you mad. Tell me if I mess up again.” He’s genuine and open, showing you he wants to grow from this experience and be a better partner.

- Once everything’s back to normal, Sam goes the extra mile, making sure you’re laughing and relaxed. He��s always there to lift you up, pulling you in for a warm, affectionate hug and giving you his full, unwavering attention. Sam’s presence is solid, reassuring, and he’ll make sure you know just how much he values having you in his life.

Peter Parker (Tom H.)

- Peter’s heart sinks when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s young, a little clumsy with emotions, and absolutely hates the idea of upsetting you. His mind starts racing, thinking of everything he could have done wrong. He gets a little panicked, maybe even rambling apologies before he knows what’s going on, hoping you’ll give him a chance to explain.

- When you tell him what’s bothering you, Peter listens carefully, nodding along with wide, earnest eyes. He’s genuinely sorry, his voice soft as he stumbles through an apology. He’s never been great at handling relationship tension, but he’ll try his best to make sure you know how much he cares and how sorry he is for letting you down.

- To make it up to you, Peter goes for something heartfelt, maybe even a bit awkward, but completely sincere. He’ll show up at your window with a little homemade gift, something quirky and thoughtful—perhaps a playlist he made just for you or a funny little gadget he put together in the lab. He’s earnest, a little shy about it, hoping you’ll see how much effort he’s putting in.

- Peter spends extra time trying to lift your spirits, using every ounce of his playful personality to make you laugh. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, or even attempt a bad dance routine just to get you smiling again. He knows he’s a bit of a dork, but he doesn’t mind if it means cheering you up. Peter’s all about making you feel comfortable and loved.

- When you finally forgive him, Peter’s face lights up with relief. He’ll pull you into a warm, enthusiastic hug, holding you close and babbling about how he’s “the luckiest person in the world” to have someone like you. He’s young, optimistic, and just incredibly happy that you’re not mad anymore. To Peter, you’re his world, and he’ll always do whatever it takes to make you feel special.

Stephen Strange

- When Stephen realizes you’re angry with him, he’s a bit taken aback. He’s used to being right and doesn’t often see things from others’ perspectives, so it takes him a moment to understand the weight of the situation. His initial reaction might even be a little defensive, but he quickly catches himself, knowing that with you, he has to try harder to listen and understand.

- Stephen struggles with apologies, often trying to explain away his actions or getting caught up in technicalities. He’s intelligent and analytical, but that doesn’t always work when emotions are involved. Eventually, though, he manages to offer a genuine apology, admitting that he’s not always the easiest person to be with and that he respects you enough to take responsibility.

- To make things right, Stephen will probably use a bit of magic to create something special just for you. It might be a small charm to keep you safe, a little illusion to make you smile, or even a glimpse into some place you’ve always wanted to see. It’s his way of saying he cares, using the one skill he knows best to bring you a little joy.

- As he tries to smooth things over, Stephen is careful, more attentive than usual, and visibly trying to understand your emotions. He may not be great at expressing his own feelings, but he’s willing to try if it means keeping you close. He’ll listen to you, nodding thoughtfully, and maybe even opening up a bit about his past mistakes and how much he values you.

- Once you forgive him, Stephen is visibly relieved, though he keeps it subtle. He gives you a small smile and pulls you close, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms around you. He might even joke, “Guess I need to work on my bedside manner,” but there’s genuine affection behind his words. Stephen knows he’s lucky to have you, and he’s determined to keep learning how to love you better.

Thor Odinson

- Thor is visibly surprised when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s naturally cheerful and doesn’t take most things too seriously, so the idea that he’s done something to upset you takes him off guard. At first, he tries to brush it off with a booming laugh, but when he sees the seriousness in your eyes, his smile fades. He immediately wants to fix things, willing to do whatever it takes to get you to smile again.

- Thor is quick to apologize, his voice earnest as he promises he didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s not one to overthink things, but he’s deeply sincere, and his apologies come straight from the heart. He’ll look you in the eyes and tell you he values you and never meant to cause any harm, his words laced with the kind of honesty that only Thor can deliver.

- To make it up to you, Thor goes all out. He’ll sweep you off on a grand adventure, maybe a spontaneous trip to Asgard (or at least what remains of it), or he’ll bring you somewhere beautiful and awe-inspiring. Thor loves to celebrate life and wants to remind you of all the incredible experiences the two of you can share. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he hopes that a bit of excitement will make things right.

- As you spend time together, Thor is extra affectionate, showering you with praise and hugs. He’s genuinely sorry and makes sure you feel loved and appreciated, maybe even telling you tales of his own mistakes and what he’s learned from them. He might tease himself a bit, but it’s all to make you laugh and remind you of his dedication to you.

- When you finally forgive him, Thor’s smile lights up the room. He laughs, pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off your feet, and spinning you around. There’s nothing subtle about his relief and joy, and he’s not afraid to show it. Thor values you immensely and will do everything he can to make sure you know how much you mean to him, promising that he’ll try to be a little more mindful in the future.

[3liza]

everyone arguing with material analysis/assertion about how art is a "luxury" has rarely if ever spent rent or food money on art, if they even pay rent or buy their own food, and if they did that would be considered extremely dysfunctional, and thats what i/we mean. artists are not providing a necessary service.

our plane crashes in the Andes and you are not particularly excited about my "can draw that Playboy centerfold of Marge Simpson from memory" like that is not an essential survival skill. lots of extremely skilled workers work in luxury artisan and craft jobs, it's not an insult to say even a very famous and very talented and influential artist is not producing a commodity necessary for the furtherance of human life. none of us are doing that, no matter how we stretch and strain the definitions of "essential" or even things like "morale" or "group identity". i will burn my copy of Finnegan's Wake to stay warm and thats what it comes down to.

i get foamy crazy snarling and biting about the idolization and obfuscation of what artists actually do because it is a labor issue! the public conception of artists as people possessed of a divine talent they dont consciously work to develop like any other skill, and the public idea that we are simply pleased and privileged to make art all day and "not work", something people say to my face every time i get asked "what i do", is largely responsible for the absolute dogshit reality of how subsistence and working class artists have to survive. we usually dont have health insurance unless we're so poor we qualify for medicaid AND live in a state that will enroll us. most of us are too disabled or crazy to go to a real job every day. most of us have tried, over and over, to enter the normal workforce, and have failed, and been forced to develop alternate skills that allow us to make rent in the ten hours per month we're actually functional. many of the artists i know work from bed because standing up is dicey. this has been turned into a charming eccentricity of famous artists and writers instead of people wondering why a person would need to stay in bed all day and take the enormous bother of bringing their stupid pens and paper and writing board or typewriter or whatever to their bed instead of just getting up and getting dressed and going to work. ive done this, i spilled ink in my sheets. its a huge hassle.

and artists play along with this mystique because people dont want to buy paintings from sadlords! they want to buy paintings and books and marge simpson nudes from cool guys who get a lot of chicks and wear rockstar outfits and party a lot, because of the transitive properties! of course!!! this is basic marketing!!!!! and if the artist doesnt play along they turn into Sad Story Artist where they're doing emergency commissions and posting about how sick they are all the time. this is not cool or fun or sexy. it's a sand trap and its very hard to recover from. im struggling with this right now!

famous and successful artists and writers are constantly ending up 60-90 years old with cancer and multiple sclerosis and dementia, being the subject of some sort of public, last-ditch, humiliating GoFundMe because painting paperback covers fr 60 years means you dont get a pension, you often dont even have kids who can take care of you, you dont have life insurance, you dont have health insurance. 'died penniless and alone' is one of the stereotypical artist endings for a reason, that is not fiction. this happened to more artists than i can list on two hands. look up what happened to Peter S. beagle, the guy who wrote The Last Unicorn. you write a book like that you should be set for life, right? NO. thats not how it works

i'm not saying 'all artists are disabled and working class or poor' because that isnt true, observably. nepo babies and trust fund artists exist, obviously. but they take an outsized portion of the spotlight when the public thinks of the concept of "artist". they are not actually the norm. the average artist is probably making under 40k and living in extremely precarious circumstances and has had periods of homelessness, illness, extreme debt and/or bankruptcy.

this is true even for the 'successful' artists. having one or two or ten good projects and being a household name does not save you from just not having the safety net provided by a normal career path. i was very close with a major, famous 2000s network television creator and team that you have heard of. they won awards, they changed culture entirely, they were a big deal. one of them was turned down for a half dozen projects by the same network that made millions or bilions on their franchise over several years (each pitch is completely unpaid btw, imagine carefully preparing a PowerPoint for morons for months at a time for no reimbursement and thent he morons ask you if you can put a teenage witch looking for her lost cat in the alps in it and you're like, haha, well, it's a 4 part hard sci fi miniseries set on Europa and takes place entirely inside a pressurized lander settlement, i mean Ridley Scot said he was interested already and he pitched a bottle episode about a carbon monoxide poisoning, soooooo....and the executives look at each other and they're like "it's jst not really what we're looking for right now, thanks for coming in" and you go to coffee bean and tea leaf and kill yourself and thats sort of what its like. i made that example up it didn't actually happen i'm using an illustrative example), worked on a canceled film, and just. gradually ran out of money. thats what happens. that guy ended up slowly selling off all his belongings, getting roommates in a one bedroom apartment, and then eventually having to just live on a friend's couch for years. famous guy. you probably know his name. another major member of that same team ended up in GoFundMe/commission hell for years (might still be there) because they had to take care of their two dying, dementia patient parents by themselves. these are people who go to GenCon and sign autographs for four hours at a time. THE PUBLIC IS NOT AWARE OF THIS SHIT and i'm sick of it. im sick of going to a gallery opening night ("vernissage") and drinking bad wine and having a guy with an email job that pays six figures and benefits tell me being able to push "undo" on the computer is cheating. that's a real example, that has actually happened to me. more than once.

artists currently have zero labor protections whatsoever. all of us are undercutting each other in an unregulated market and relying on welfare and private insurance and not having families or buying houses. zero security until we get so old all our illnesses and dysfunction finally ground us permanently and then we get turned into a charity case by fans (humiliating) or just fade away into ghosts and die

whats my punchline? idk i dont have one. it's possible and likely that any given artist you meet is permanently in precarity and will be until they die, even the famous ones. the culture of selling art demands that artists do not admit to this in public unless shit gets really really bad. i guess my point is you should know this, as a person who looks at or listens to or reads things that people have made for your amusement, not for your survival

[the-boy-meets-evil]

as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c (teaser)

pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, smut | (very minor) reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI (for full fic, nothing in this teaser) word count: 850 for the teaser (TBD on full fic, prob 10k+) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: explicit smut, past unhealthy relationships, plays with greek mythology, etc) post date: november 16th (hopefully)

summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until you start to remember.

a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! it's been fun (even if it's a challenge) to get lost in an entirely different world.

if you want to be tagged when i post, leave a comment or join my taglist here

Another day, another dollar. 

Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue. 

That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.

In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat. 

Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.

Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length. 

Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.

Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out. 

Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.

[loverslodge]

after the date

Bucky was stunned by the way Steve had talked to you. He too felt like a prized pony but there had to be a better way of putting things, weren't there? One of them made you cry. Bucky couldn't remove the sight of your face when Steve said those things. He swore he heard your heart break. Your tears were an added bonus that wrenched his own heart.

Steve was seething. He felt used. He had the same feeling he had felt when he had broken up with Sharon. This was it, wasn't it? This was his life. A famous person, up on a pedestal, just to look good. But something else cracked. When he saw your broken face, he knew he overstepped, he knew he said things he shouldn't have. He didn't mean it like that. But you had left. Left before he could even realize he fucked up.

………………….

The journey back to the compound was eerily quiet. Bucky wasn't talking to Steve and neither did Steve initiate any discussion.

Bucky knew he should say something but he was too pissed off. If he started talking, punches would have flown with them so he kept quiet. Held himself off. He looked down at his hand to see the bag of books with that single rose you had given him in the morning.

Steve was fidgeting in the seat. He was holding the rose you had given him that morning. You had said you show how you feel because you were never good with words. Was this you showing something? Had he missed something?

As soon as the car stopped in the garage, Bucky jumped out and stomped in the compound. Steve ran after him to talk but Bucky had already slipped in the elevator and had gone up to their shared apartment.

As soon as Steve entered the apartment, a punch flew to his mouth, staggering him. He was ready to counter attack but seeing it was an enraged Bucky, he let it go. Steve did deserve a punch after what he did.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you end a perfect date like that?” Bucky needed answers.

“It was the right thing to do. We were slipping way too much into her life. It was a fake date.” Steve went to his room and gently put his rose on the side table.

“Come out here. Talk. I'm not letting this behaviour of yours slide.” Bucky demanded.

Steve stomped out. “You are not my boyfriend to demand this kind of shit from me.”

“Is this what it's about? A pent up 100 year old hold up?”

“No. This is about us not addressing the issues. I was in love with Peggy and not you. You were just there and that kiss was a drunken mistake.”

“I don't care about any of that. Let's call it a mistake, fine. But what was that tonight? You made her cry.”

“I told her the truth.”

“There are ways of telling the truth, Steve. You are the gentle one. What the fuck happened back there? Why did you just jump guns?” Bucky walked very close to Steve. He wanted to slap his face and put some sense into it.

Bucky poked and pushed him with the question again and again because Steve kept on ignoring him.

“I got jealous, okay? I got jealous, thinking that there could have been more candidates and she would have picked someone else over us. Us, Bucky. I don't even care if she chose you. I was happy that it was me and you and not me or you. She accepted us together. But got jealous thinking if someone else had responded before us then she would've gone.” Steve ran his hands over his hair and face.

“So you weren't jealous of me being with her?”

“God no! I really liked seeing you with her. It made me happy to see you happy with her.”

Steve held Bucky by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. Steve was on the verge of tears for what he did to you.

“Then why the fuck did you say that to her?” Bucky asked him in a quiet tone.

“I got angry. I acted rash and dumb. I- shit. I feel so guilty. She was nothing but incredible. Every time there was sadness in her eyes, she would push it aside and smile for us. She did so well the entire day and I ruined it. I ruined her perfect day.” Steve sat with his head in his hands.

“Didn't we jump to this because it was all no strings attached and no expectations? Then why were there strings and expectations?” Bucky wasn't just asking it to Steve but to himself as well.

“Maybe because of her.” They both looked at each other, understanding what Steve was trying to say. “It was all her. She just- she's an angel, Buck. Sweet, kind and adorable little angel. If just looking at her made us think that then imagine how much we felt when we talked to her.”

“She drew strings without knowing. We were so confident in proving that we won't have expectations but her being unconditional about everything just broke our confidence, didn't it?” Bucky stared down at his hands. “She expected nothing. She even went as far as to open herself bare to us without expecting us to do something about it.”

“She was ready to leave us alone once the day was over, did you know that?” Steve looked at Bucky who looked at him with wide eyes.

“How do you know that?”

“I read her memos. She was getting gelato for us in the park and her memo fell out. She was detailed about today. She had written it down. Underline and everything! She really dove head first without asking for anything in return.”

Bucky and Steve sat in silence. Today had brought a lot of clarity to them. One of them being that they belonged together but not alone. They belonged together with you.

Sure, Bucky and Steve have had their moments with each other but they never talked about it. But it seemed like after today, there needed to be a lot of clarifications. Both of them spent hours talking and clarifying.

They were both in bed, next to each other. Still wanting to talk about the most important thing, you.

“So, I know we just started something new but what about Angel?” Steve really did want you in their lives.

“I was thinking the same thing. I know we have us but it feels, I don't know, empty. Today, with her, I felt like we were complete.” Bucky shifted and looked at Steve.

“You know, I felt so much at ease with her. Like she wasn't expecting me to just burst my heart open for her every two seconds. I felt very calm with her. I just wish I hadn't said those things. We would've gotten more time with her. Maybe talk to her. Ask her if she wanted this to be something real.”

“We didn't even get to say goodbye. You know, after the dinner, I was going to ask her if she would be willing to spend another day with us. I've never felt like this before, you know. Except with you. I felt very comfortable with her.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“So we're okay with a third being with us. And we want that third to be her and only her. Correct?” Steve summarized their thoughts.

“Correct. Our Angel. We need to talk to her.”

“Do you think she'll want to talk to me after what I said?” Steve’s voice turned sad.

“Of course she will. We will not let a misunderstanding get in our way. We will win her back.” Bucky was determined.

“You know, I think I know why she came up with this no expectation thing.” Steve looked at Bucky

“Why?” Bucky was curious to know Steve’s interpretation.

“Because no one fought for her. After listening to her story, it's very clear. While she tried her best, when she left, no one was there to tell her to not go. It was as if nobody cared.” Steve had tears in his eyes.

“Then we show her. We show her that we will fight for her. We want her and she is it for us. We will show her. Maybe we can mend her heart the way she's mending ours.” Bucky patted Steve and rubbed his arm to give him confidence.

……………….

It had been two weeks since the date went horribly wrong. You had been in a sad rut since then. Many times tears welled up in your eyes thinking about the time you spent with them.

First three days you spent thinking about how you had been feeling the same way about the two of them. Whatever affection you were feeling for them was, surprisingly, in an equal amount. There was no leaning towards one over the other, it was leaning towards them.

You spent time trying to sort your affections. Two men? How? Is this even right? Are they together? It felt like they were. Was what you did right? Did you get between two people?

But then you slipped back into the dark thoughts not being loveable. Your mind went into overthinking how your past relationships made no attempt in exactly loving you. You aren’t just an arc of rainbow but you are also the rain. They only loved the rainbow.

You had spent two weeks mulling over your idea of love as well. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe you are looking for a broken love. But how could you not? You have become a broken person. You had become this shell of a love that kept on giving but received nothing in return.

It was Saturday and you were sitting in your favourite cafe, working on your laptop. Your table was littered with your heavily sweetened drinks. You might've been on your tenth cup, or that's what you assumed when you thought you were hallucinating two super soldiers swaggering towards you.

“Hey Angel.” Bucky’s dazzling smile was blinding you and your eyes were dry as is.

Bucky’s smooth voice was pulling you more into your dreamland. More like, you had been so stressed and sleep deprived that everything looked like a hallucination.

“Angel, are you okay? Your eyes are very glassy.” Steve crouched down to look at your eyes better. His heart wrenched at the sight of the redness of them and heavy bags under your eyes.

“Buck, I don't think she’s well. Maybe we should take her back to her place and talk to her next time.” Steve was getting very worried about you.

“I'm fine. Nothings wrong. I just…” and you were about to topple off the chair when Steve caught you by your shoulder and leaned you against him.

“Ok, that's it. Buck, grab her things and find her keys, we're taking her home.”

Your eyes were glassy but you distinctly remember Steve picking you up and Bucky smoothing out your hair from your face before they got walking.

Once they reached your apartment, Bucky carried you and your things while Steve had rushed to open your door. Bucky walked in and went straight for your bedroom and laid you down. You tried to get up to change but he just pushed you back on the bed.

“Please. I wanna change. Very uncomfortable.” You were feeling delirious.

“Angel, I don't want you falling.” Bucky held your waist as you made your way to grab your comfiest pjs.

“What are you doing, Angel? Get back to bed.” Steve walked in the bedroom to check up on you but seeing you walking around with Bucky supporting you concerned him.

“Let go. Gotta change.” You wriggled your way out of Bucky’s arms and stumbled into the bathroom, locking it.

“Angel, did you just lock the bathroom? You'll fall down. How are we supposed to help you?” Steve knocked on the door to make sure you’re fine.

“You're supers, you can break in.” You called out from the bathroom. You washed your face and finished your business. You stumbled a little but managed to grab onto the doorknob. You twisted it and stumbled out in the waiting arms of two super soldiers.

“Alright, Angel. Let's go to bed.” Bucky tucked you in the middle of the bed, making sure you have no way of getting up.

The two men were about to leave your room when your soft whisper traveled through the room. “Please don't go.”

Your small plea made them weak in the knees and they almost fell to their feet. You were definitely looking like an angel, laying on your bed with glassy eyes. They took off their shoes and got in the bed, one side each.

Their jeans brushed against your thighs and so you got a bit more aware. You pouted at Bucky and asked them to remove their jeans and shirts because they were making you uncomfortable.

They were shocked by it but did what you asked anyway. They were now laying beside you in just their briefs. You shuffled and turned to Steve who was looking at you just like you had always wished for and so was Bucky.

You put your hands on their cheeks and brushed your thumbs against their cheeks. “Please look at me just like that.” Your hands slipped down and you snuggled into the pillow, falling asleep in the warmth of two men who have been haunting your dreams.

……………………..

Bucky and Steve stayed right where you had asked them to. Tears slipped out of Bucky’s eyes.

“This is because of us, isn't it? We are the reason why she's exhausted. We hurt our Angel. We waited way too long.” Bucky wiped his face but the lump in his throat was there to stay.

“But we're here now. We will make it right. We will take care of her. We will never hurt our Angel again.” Steve brushed some stray hair out of your face.

You shuffled in your sleep and snuggled into Steve who immediately wrapped his arms around you and shoved you deeper in his chest.

“She feels so good, Buck. I don't want to let her go.”

“We don't have to. We will go down on our knees to win her if we have to.”

Although they wanted to stay in bed with you till you wake up, they wanted to clean your apartment for you. So they both slowly got up from bed and were about to slip out when a few laminated papers caught their eyes.

They both walked to look at what it was and their mouths stayed agape. Those were the pressed roses. The same roses that they had gotten her. The roses still looked fresh and pink but pressed. Two roses had Bucky’s name on them and the other two had Steve’s.

“Every time we think she’s human, she does something that makes us think she's an angel.” Bucky walked back to bed and kissed your temple. Steve also kissed your temple before they slipped out of the room and took over the cleaning.

While Steve was cleaning the house, Bucky went to the kitchen to cook a fantastic meal for all. He had noticed your sweet tooth for chocolate so he also decided to make chocolate muffins. You surprisingly had all the ingredients for baking but not much for cooking. Bucky sent Steve to buy ingredients to make lasagna and till then he whipped up cupcake batter.

Bucky occasionally went to your room to check how you were doing. You shifted from one side to another but overall you were sleeping peacefully. Bucky was still only in his briefs and your cute pink apron.

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked around. You knew that it was too good to be true. You must've walked home and went to sleep. Why would they come here? You gave them nothing but grief and made them feel like you were a prize to be won which was untrue. You weren't a prize, never have been.

A smell of vanilla and chocolate hit your senses and you panicked. Who the hell is in your apartment? You tumbled out of the bed and ran in the kitchen to find a very beefy back staring back at you.

“Angel! You're up!” Bucky turned around and gave you a heart-stopping smile.

“Bu- James! What are you doing here?” You were flabbergasted.

“Angel, call me Bucky. I've told you before.” He put the tray in the oven and set the timer.

“But-”

Bucky walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Call me Bucky, Angel.”

“Bucky,” you gulped and your voice softened. “What are you doing here? And, um, is it… is it just you?” Your eyes were wide with curiosity and somewhere, at the back of them, hurt.

“Nope, not alone. Steve has gone grocery shopping for lasagna and I think I also told him to bring pizza with him.” Bucky cupped your face. “You asked us to stay, Angel and we weren't going to leave. We came to talk.”

You pried yourself out of Bucky’s arms and stood at a distance. “I- ok, well, once Steve is back, you both can leave. Sorry for all the inconvenience i caused. You don't have to do anything.”

“Angel, what-”

“I'm back! I got the pizza! Lets wake up Angel and get her to eat and-” Steve sensed a tense situation.

“She wants us to leave.” Bucky’s voice had turned into a whisper.

“What?! No! Angel, no! I- we don't want to go. We want to stay, talk.” Steve just started to beg.

“Why? You don't like me, I'm just a burden. Whatever happened to me today is my problem, not yours. Sorry for troubling you but you don't have to be polite. I'll manage.”

You had withdrawn yourself completely. You didn't deserve whatever they were giving you. You shouldn't be getting between them. You shouldn't even think about them. They deserve better than anybody but you.

“Angel? Baby? What are you talking about?” Steve walked closer to you, trapping you between him, Bucky and the wall.

“I'm just telling the truth. You don't have to take care of me. I dont des- you don't need to do this. Don't be gentlemanly. I appreciate you bringing me home but I've been a burden enough. I don't want you to feel obligated about anything.” You were fidgeting with your oversized t-shirt, unable to look them in the eyes.

“There is no obligation, Angel.” Bucky came closer and moved hair strands out of my face.

“You're not a burden. Why would you think that?” Steve put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed his thumb against my clavicle.

“It is true. Otherwise I wouldn't have put the two of you in any of those awkward positions on that day. You accepted because you expected a normal day out and I ended up making you do things against your will.” Tears ran down your cheeks as you looked at Steve. “You were right, Steve, I am looking for a broken love because that's what I deserve.”

Steve’s heart broke hearing you say that and Bucky’s eyes welled up. They had sent you off to the deep end without even realizing. They should've come to you sooner.

Steve and Bucky dragged you back to your room because you were hysterically crying, unable to breathe. They wrapped you up in your blanket. Both of them moved to each side of you and pulled you closer with your back resting on Bucky’s chest and your head resting on Steve’s.

“Angel, if you would please give us a chance to talk. We have a lot to say and it's not what you think. Will you listen?” Bucky asked the question in such a whispered voice, you couldn't help but nod your head against Steve’s chest. Your breathing had calmed down and their touch was very soothing.

“First of all, you are not a burden and you don't deserve broken love. We just- we got jealous.” Steve started putting sentences together. “Bucky held off his jealousy but I couldn't. It made me think that you had a better shot with someone else and my imagination started running wild.”

“Steve thought, and I did too even if I didn't say it out loud, that if someone else had accepted your email request then you would have picked them over us. That idea didn't sit well with us. We wanted you all to ourselves.” Bucky continued.

You sat up straight and looked at them. “But why would you get jealous?”

“Because, Angel, we fell in love with you.” Steve’s confession stopped your heart. You looked at Bucky with wide eyes expecting it to be a joke but the soft smile on his face and a nod told you it wasn't.

“We had accepted your request because it gave us a chance to experience a romantic relationship for one day without strings and expectations. That's what we thought till we actually met you.” Bucky looked at you adoringly.

“We saw you the first time and we thought what we felt was infatuation. But as the day went on, we drowned in your smile, in your laughter and all the little things you did.” Steve moved hair out of my face. “The first time we realized we were falling in love, it was at the park when we sat together. That entire time felt so… domestic, homey.”

“All that time falling in love with you, we forgot you still thought what was going on was fake.” Bucky intertwined your fingers with his. “So when you talked very casually about things, Steve got pissed and said things he shouldn't have.”

“I'm so sorry, Angel. I was being an idiot. I had never felt this way before. So at home with someone and it pissed me off that someone else could've had my home. I got jealous and I got possessive.”

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and Bucky did the same. “We're very sorry, Angel. Please forgive us.”

“But should I say sorry?” You slowly pull away to look at them. “I played with your feelings, didn't i? I should be apologizing for making you think that it was real.”

“So, it wasn't real?” Just one look in their eyes and you knew you had broken their hearts in a million pieces.

“It was! For me it was but I thought you thought I played you and I kinda did if we look at the semantics.” You started to ramble. You wanted to fix whatever this was.

“Angel, if it was real for you and if it was real for us then that means you haven't played us.” Bucky pushed their actual agenda forward. “And even if you were playing with us, which you werent, it would have been a privilege to be played by our angel.”

“Our?” You had been hearing them mentioned as theirs, not Bucky’s or Steve’s but theirs.

“That's what we actually wanted to talk about.” Steve sat up straight. It was time to ask you what they have been meaning to ask. “We have been talking about this, adjusting to this new… idea. We thought it was wrong at first but one of our dear friends helped us figure things out.”

“He means Natasha. Black Widow. Blond hair, murderous eyes, kinda okay face.” Bucky started giving you the context.

“I know who she is and she's hot. Don't put her down like that.” You used to have a crush on her before it had drifted off but you didn't need to tell them that.

“What? I-”

“Buck, not the time.” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s chest to stop him. “Back to the point. We thought hard and we only thought of you-”

“Gross.” You made a playful face that earned a chuckle from Bucky and an eye roll from Steve.

Steve pulled you closer to his body, causing you to yelp in surprise. Then you felt a pressure on your back and saw Bucky leaning his entire self on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“We want you to be with us, Angel. Just us three and no one else.” Steve’s chest rumbled with confession and you found yourself blushing. “Would you like that? Being with us? You, me and Bucky?”

“None of that is going to happen if I die under the weight of an old metal person.” You groaned playfully and tried to shove Bucky over, only for him roll on you entirely, crushing you against Steve.

“Bubye Steve. This is the end of the line for me. I'll see you on the other side.” Your muffled speech could be heard through your groans. “Write on my tombstone. Death by Bucky, a heavy cuddler who wouldn't leave his girlfriend room to breathe.”

Hearing you say the last line. They both sprang up and looked at you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you just say you're our girlfriend?” Bucky asked excitedly. If they had tails, it would've wagged itself off their asses.

You rolled your eyes at them and smiled widely with blush creeping up your cheeks. “Yes.”

They both attacked you in a hug and made sure to leave you room to breathe. You couldn't help but giggle and laugh at their excitement.

“We promise not to mess things up this bad.” Steve kissed your temple.

“But I do want to see the list of men whom you sent the emails to. Gotta know whom to brag against.” Bucky pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the crook of your neck, making you shiver.

All three of you got up from the bed and made your way to the kitchen because your stomach wouldn't stop making rumbling noises.

Once they had fed you well, their words, not yours, all three of you chose to cuddle back in your bed to watch one of the many rom-coms that were your favourites. You looked at both of your sides to see them intensely watching what made you happy.

“Hey guys,” you said, making them look at you. “Thank you so much for looking at me like that.”

“Always, Angel. Forever and always.”

[jackoshadows]

One reason for why I find shipping Jonsa as a canon ship hilarious is that book Sansa would be so horrified if anyone suggested she marry Jon Snow!

And I think it's because Jonsa shippers themselves think differently to book Sansa. They know that Jon is a central character in the series, that he is a decent guy, has some secret parentage issues going on with the possibility of legitimacy, is loyal and forward thinking etc.

However, these matters don't concern book Sansa. She is a Stark - one of the last remaining Starks in Westeros. She is the eldest daughter of house Stark. The eldest daughter of the former Warden of the North and one of the formerly strongest houses of Westeros which still has a lot of loyalty from other Northern houses. She grew up with high expectations for her marriage.

She was formerly destined to be Queen of Westeros by marriage to Joffrey. She was considered for marriage to the Tyrell heir and would have been Lady of Highgarden. She married Tyrion Lannister who is heir to Casterly Rock. She is currently plotting to marry Harry the Heir - future heir to the Vale upon SweetRobin's death.

So as is seen by her as her right, Sansa expects a marriage to a very high born noble. So far all her prospects have been heirs to big houses and kingdoms.

In AGoT she thinks that the Stark Steward's daughter Jeyne Poole - The Pooles possibly being minor lords with a holdfast near Winterfell - was far beneath Lord Beric Dondarrion.

"Lord Beric is as much a hero as Ser Loras. He's ever so brave and gallant." "I suppose," Sansa said doubtfully. Beric Dondarrion was handsome enough, but he was awfully old, almost twenty-two; the Knight of Flowers would have been much better. Of course, Jeyne had been in love with Lord Beric ever since she had first glimpsed him in the lists. Sansa thought she was being silly; Jeyne was only a steward's daughter, after all, and no matter how much she mooned after him, Lord Beric would never look at someone so far beneath him, even if she hadn't been half his age.

For the same reason, Sansa would think that the bastard Jon Snow was beneath someone like Jeyne Poole.

In fact in her most recent sample TWoW chapter we see she doesn't think much of bastards. Five books in, with the very last published chapter, we see her matchmaking for the 19 year old Mya Stone with the much older, very low born, not good looking Lothor Brune because according to her that would be a good match for a bastard...

Alayne wondered what Mya made of Ser Lothor. With his squashed nose, square jaw, and nap of woolly grey hair, Brune could not be called comely, but he was not ugly either. Though he had risen to knighthood, Ser Lothor's birth had been very low. Brune would be a good match for a bastard girl like Mya Stone, she thought. It might be different if her father had acknowledged her, but he never did. And Maddy says that she's no maid either.

Sansa would be utterly shocked if someone suggested she marry loyal, honest, good Lothor Brune. He would be very low born for her. And if Lothor Brune is not good enough for Sansa how would she feel about marrying a baseborn bastard?

As much as Sansa would be joyful to reunite with her last living relative Jon Snow, she would rather match-make Jon Snow with some low born girl, some hedge knight's or freerider's daughter than marry him. And she would still think that a baseborn like Jon Snow would be lucky to marry someone higher up the chain like lowborn girls - the same way she thinks of Mya Stone and Lothor Brune.

Remember, bastards don't have any lands and are stigmatized as less than, being treacherous and lustful by nature of birth. Ned Stark gave Jon Snow no lands, instead packed him off to the Night's Watch.

Remember Alys Karstark dancing with Robb Stark and not Jon Snow because her father took her there to meet with the heir and not the bastard?

Look at Jaime's thoughts about Sybell Spicer:

"Your lord father promised me worthy marriages for Jeyne and her younger sister. Lords or heirs, he swore to me, not younger sons nor household knights." Lords or heirs. To be sure. The Westerlings were an old House, and proud, but Lady Sybell herself had been born a Spicer, from a line of upjumped merchants.

Or Lady Sybell's reaction to betrothing her son to Joy Hill. And this is only house Westerling.

"I have two sons as well," Lady Westerling reminded him. "Rollam is with me, but Raynald was a knight and went with the rebels to the Twins. If I had known what was to happen there, I would never have allowed that." Even from the grave, Lord Tywin's dead hand moves us all. "Joy is my late uncle Gerion's natural daughter. A betrothal can be arranged, if that is your wish, but any marriage will need to wait. Joy was nine or ten when last I saw her." "His natural daughter?" Lady Sybell looked as if she had swallowed a lemon. "You want a Westerling to wed a bastard?"

Also recall that the original arrangement was for two bastards to marry - Joy Hill, Gerion Lannister's bastard, to marry a Frey bastard.

So imagine Sansa's reaction to a suggestion that she marry the bastard Jon Snow... She would think it's a joke and laugh. She would be aghast and horrified. She would be repulsed and see it as punishment.

That's just how the high born Westerosi society thinks. Bastards are seen as the lowest strata. This is how feudal classism works in Westeros.

So unless Sansa gets suddenly and magically enlightened on classist prejudice, then Jonsa is something that is never, ever, ever going to happen. This is not even getting into what Jon Snow thinks and feels about the high born traditional ladies upholding Westerosi patriarchal ideals of femininity.

[wisteria-lodge]

do you think lucius only realize he don't want to be a death eater after voldemort was defeated in the 1st war or even during it?

speaking of what are your thoughts/hc on why narcissa didn't take the dark mark despite her sister and her husband doing it? tbh i always wondered how she could've avoided it? i mean she was part of it right, she was in the meetings too

I always thought it made sense that Draco was a difficult pregnancy.

I say that because Lucius and Narcissa seem like the sort of couple who would have loved more children. Narcissa was close with her sisters before things fell apart, and Lucius was an only child... but he's so social I think that must have been lonely for him. I think he would have loved it if Draco had a younger brother or sister. And the only barrier they'd be dealing with there would be a medical one, so.

(also, I love whenever the the Malfoys and the Weasleys are foils, and the idea of Draco and Ron being born at pretty much the same time - but Ron is one of many, a little neglected, mom is a little disappointed he's not a girl etc. while DRACO is so wanted and so special. That's good stuff.)

I also think that if the Malfoys were dealing with fertility issues, Narcissa suffering, maybe even having a miscarriage - that would have made early-twenties Lucius grow up REAL fast. Because yeah, I do think that when Draco was born - about a year before Voldemort's downfall - Lucius' priorities shifted completely, and he started looking for a way out.

And I say that because Lucius rode the wave of the first war really well, coming out with his money and prestige so intact, which would have taken some planning. Lucius is also one of very few Death Eaters who actually got off using the 'imperius curse' defense. (I think the only other one is Avery.) I like the idea that he did actually plan that. Like - okay. You could have someone you trust (Narcissa, maybe Severus) put the imperius curse on you for a couple months, and that way when you're asked "Were you directed to follow Voldemort's orders under the imperius curse," you can say yes, even if you're under Veritaserum.

(Nott senior also seems to have also come out of the first war basically unscathed, but he also seems much more cautious than Lucius. I'll bet he was very good at making sure that there was never much actual evidence against him. Crabbe and Goyle senior also seem to be doing fine, and I tend to think it's because Lucius got them out (possibly because their wives were close with Narcissa? All three women would have been pregnant at the same time.) Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are *quite* committed to keeping Draco Malfoy in one piece. I love Draco, but he does spend several books being a little shit with no ability to defend himself, so they do have their work cut out for them.

I also think a Narcissa who spent the first Voldemort war dealing with pregnancy-related health issues could explain why she doesn't have a Dark Mark, when honestly she really should. Her husband, sister, brother-in-law, underage cousin... they're all getting them. So why was Narcissa skipped (but still allowed to remain in good standing?) I think she she stayed out of the spotlight, using her delicate health as an excuse. And then the second war comes around and she... fades to the background again, makes herself useful, and hopes that the issue never comes up. I don't think she'd say no to a confundus, or even a memory charm if she were really put on the spot.

(but the real, Doylist reason Narcissa doesn't have a Dark Mark is because JKR has a very strong aversion to writing villainous mothers. See: the very odd framing of Merope Gaunt.)