#i love her for who she is and what she is made of. not bc she is a holmes inspired character.

[olive-main]

oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!

Between Us Alone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.

Wc: 1.2k

A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh

——

The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.

A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.

It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.

Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.

“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”

Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.

Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”

Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”

“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”

Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”

You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.

“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.

You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.

But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…

Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.

“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.

—

The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.

But tonight, it felt suffocating.

You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.

This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.

As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.

You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.

You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.

What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?

You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.

“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”

His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”

Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.

You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.

“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”

He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”

“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”

“Stop.”

The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.

“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”

Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.

“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”

“But they—”

“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”

You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”

A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”

“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”

He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”

——

Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3

Requests are still open ;)

[iatrophilosophos]

I hate to burst ur bubble bc this does sound like a very cool life!!! but that is not unthinkably far my friend. The appalachian trail is over 2,000 miles and ppl regularly make it on foot in abt 5 months. Now, most ppl who hike the appalachain trail are not coming up with food on the journey; so i assume a prehistoric trip is gonna take longer, and/but/also i feel like it is entirely feasible to spend, say, ur early 20s wandering around, hanging out with different people and living different places, and cover that much distance in a few years without even really feeling like you made an exceptional journey (at least just on the walking front) cuz like...I can't fully back this up but I'd be shocked if prehistoric hunter gatherers weren't walking hundreds of miles a year even w/o traveling great distances; just in the course of Living Life.

Lots of modern people live traveling long distances and hopping from place to place and while we're never gonna know exactly why someone did what they did thousands of years ago, I tend to think the reasons stay pretty similar. I remember reading a while ago abt how it's actually been really common in tons of cultures across time--including lots and lots of places without aided transport--for young adults to leave their families, locations, & even local culture of origin to go do Something Else with their lives... I'm sure this person was not the Only person to make a journey like this in her time and she probably heard stories from others and decided she wanted to try it out. Some people are Road People, today, back then, and every time and place in between.

Edit: i also think its unlikely that, like someone in the notes is suggesting, her family/home of origin Never Heard From Her Again. This happens all the time and is definitely possible but, even without phones or organized information sharing networks, even with modern population sizes! you might be surprised abt how easy it can be to get news abt a loved one/ex/enemy/etc you ain't seen in years from a traveler who happened upon both them and you. Its a small world, after all, and I think its more fun and lovely to remember that humanity has always been capable of navigating it.

I often think about the remains of a Neolithic woman found at a Prehistoric site in Scotland who was isotope tested and found to have been born in southern England and lived there for a significant portion of her life before relocating to northern Scotland. Her life predated the introduction of horses to Britain so she would have had to walk 700+ miles during her life to get to the place she was ultimately buried. What motivated her to do that? What drove her from her home and to a colder and harsher climate? Was it conflict? Was it wanderlust? Was it love? I can’t remember the name of the site but I think I remember other nearby remains in the group tomb had been tested and found to have been lifelong locals so she was probably an outlier in her new community.

[bunni-v1]

Hnnghh christmas Lighter smut where reader is dressed in nothing but a long ribbon and bow bc he’s been a good boy this year

🍓Did u read my mind? Get outta there… jkjk, but seriously this is EXACLTY what I was thinking about. I really can’t dedicate the time to a full fic, which breaks my little gay heart, but imagine with me if you would… (this is a full fic btw i fucking lied to you and myself)

Tw: Nsfw; kinda rough (not too rough); UNEDITED ITS HORRENDOUS

Mdni

Christmas with the Sons of Calydon is pretty atypical. They have their own traditions that most New Eirduians would scoff at, but they’re rather important to those who live in these parts. Drinking, singing together (usually drunkenly and offkey), taking bike rides out to start a fire and literally burn away past regrets of the year, and of course fights — plenty of fights.

You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting part, usually meant more work for you to do, but Lighter always seemed to have fun. Obviously he did, he never lost — he hardly broke a sweat for the most part. And he loved showing off, especially if you were there to watch him. Everything else was mostly normal, though… a little odd but custom made to your little ragtag group, and you loved it.

It felt warm, cozy, like family. They passed out gifts, most of them hand made or incredibly thoughtful since money was scarce for most of you. Lighter had gotten you a (rather expensive) bracelet with your and his initials engraved on it. It was sweet, and unexpected from the guy who pretended like the holiday was nothing for the months leading up to it.

It made you melt on the inside and feel nice and warm. However… his nonchalance about the holiday cause you one… teeny tiny, itty bitty problem. You had no clue what to get him, and you hadn’t gotten him anything — time had run out and no one would give you any good hints.

His insistence that you didn’t need to get him anything in return made your stomach ache. It was hard to focus on his fight when your head was rushing with ways to rectify the horrific mistake you’d made quickly. The red ribbon of the jewelry box wrapped around your fingers tightly, then unwound as you mulled over your options.

You could get him something for his bike, but you’d have to drive to the city and it’s unlikely he’d let you go without him — that’s if the stores were even open this late on a holiday. Maybe you could craft up something quick and easy, if you could get back to your place there surely would be something, but… that felt cheap. Especially compared to the bracelet.

“That ribbon’s pretty,” Caesar says next to you, drawing you from your thoughts, “Must’ve been one real fancy place he went to for ya.”

You sigh, leaning back against the wall a little, looking at the ribbon as you twisted it around, “I’m sure it was. He’s so hopeless sometimes.”

“Only because you’re so sweet on him,” She teases, nudging your shoulder lightly.

A laugh huffs out of your chest, then an idea strikes you. The ribbon is pretty. You actually had some like it back at your place, stored away from last years festivities. You twist the ribbon one last time, and then you grin, wide and wild. Lighter catches your eye as he socks his opponent in the jaw, smirking at you like he’d won a prize.

“Hey, Caesar,” You hum, turning to your friend who seemed a little uneasy at your expression, “How long do you think you can keep him distracted for me.”

She hums, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ll buy ya fifteen minutes — wait, why?”

“You’ll hear later~” You hum with a wink, and practically skip back to your place, leaving Caesar alone to deal with your very adrenaline filled boyfriend on her own.

It takes you half the time Caesar said she could get you to find the damn ribbon, and the other half is spent fighting for your life to get the thing on and look at least a little sexy. You tried to recall old articles you’d read on bondage and shibari, but it was hard to do without a guide. You’d managed to get all the good bits wrapped up and hidden, with a few extra crosses to make it look pretty.

You don’t get a chance to check because you hear Lighters heavy footsteps outside the door nearly as soon as you’ve tied the bow comfortably around your neck. Your able to sort’ve arrange yourself seductively on the bed for him just as the front door open and he calls out to you. You could tell he was annoyed from his voice alone. He never liked it when you left his shows early.

“Caesar told me you headed back here,” He called, boots thumping as he threw them off, “We’re you not enjoying the show?”

It’s a tease, you know it is, but there was an underlying annoyance in his voice that sent a tingle up your spine. He pushes the bedroom door open incredibly slowly, to the point you think he’s trying to surprise you with something. You have the gall to feel stupid for a moment right before his eyes land on you, and he stops at he takes in the sight.

There is an audible shudder as his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. He takes his sunglasses off, revealing those pretty green eyes that rake in every inch of you with hunger. Then, he smirks, shoving the bedroom door closed with his shoulder already working his gloves and jacket off to the floor. Forgotten without a second thought. The rest of his clothes follow quickly after.

“Merry Christmas!” You cheer, though you’re more nervous than happy. He clearly likes it, according to the quickly growing tent in his pants and how fast he is to strip himself, but he’s a little too quiet for your liking.

He sinks onto the mattress in front of you, hands ghosting around the bright red ribbon. Like if he touches it, it’ll all fall apart in his grasp. He traces each inch of it with careful practiced restraint, following the fabrics flow across your body until he remembers that you are under the fabric and he lands on your face.

His eyes soften when you smile nervously up at him, fingers tracing the apple of your cheek with such admiration it nearly makes you cry. “You like it?” You ask softly, unsure of yourself.

He scoffs like you’re stupid for wondering, “This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It draws a genuine laugh out of you, which he follows with his own as he comes down to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Then a soft kiss that trails down to your lips, easing you into a slow careful dance of love and passion.

He readjusts your position so carefully, you almost don’t notice he’s doing it until he’s between your legs. Pressing them open then pressing his dick to the ribbons wrapping up your folds from him. You’re already dripping, the adrenaline from earlier enough to get you going, but the added friction just makes it worse. You’d never be able to reuse this stuff, that’s for sure.

His hands glide over your stomach, following the ribbon with lazy easy until he’s found the one covering you from him. His thumbs slide under the pieces, rubbing over the flesh of your abdomen gently. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva keeping you connected as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He murmurs quietly, “You could’ve given me a smile and I would’ve been happy.”

You shy away, “Well… I almost didn’t have anything to get you, but your gift, mmm, inspired me.”

He chuckles at you, reaching down to run his dick against your still covered folds. The silky fabric oddly making everything feel more intense. “I can see that. Very cute, by the way.”

“I know, thank you,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he presses the two of you back into a laying position, “Now are you gonna unwrap your present, or are you gonna keep teasing yourself.”

A roll of the eyes and another smirk, “Y’know, I’ve never been a fan of ruining the wrapping paper. Shits expensive… so how about we go nice and slow.”

As he says that, he slides his dick between the ribbon, right up against your throbbing clit. You let out a surprised sound, quickly melting into sighs of pleasure and he fucks into the ribbon. Each push and pull stimulates your aching pussy into gushing out more for him, clenching on nothing as he fucks himself against you at a leisurely pace.

You take the chance to look down, moaning out as he head of him touches your thigh. The sight is something you’d see in a porno. Lighter follows your eyes, smiling to himself when he catches you practically going cross eyed at the sight.

“We look good together, don’t we, sugar?” He purrs. A rare nickname, sweet and extra praiseworthy — just like he thinks you are.

You nod along with him, fluttering your eyes back to his with a dumb little smile. Each drag of his dick makes your toes curl and nails dig into his broad shoulders. He sighs at the sensation, pressing kisses into your skin to quiet himself up. He’d rather listen to you, after all, and this was a gift for him.

His fingers begin to crawl up your body, dancing along the ribbon excitedly. They make sure to stop and tweak your nipples through the fabric, humming when he feels they’re sufficiently hard and sensitive under his touch. Then, finally, they reach the neatly tied bow around your neck.

The tug at it, gently unwrapping it from your neck and pulling it away with ease. Replacing the red of it with his tongue, licking and sucking new marks into the flesh. Your hips stutter against his, and he lets out a groan, squeezing your tit as warning. You whine, but don’t fight him anymore. His hands returning to unraveling the ribbon, pressing into the skin revealed until he is the only thing keeping the ribbon and his dick pressed against you.

You pout a little when he pulls away, pussy aching for friction once his dick is gone. You feel it clench as it looks for him, and god it makes you feel like a whore. He takes your hands from his shoulder and leans over you to tie them to the bed board above your head. You can feel how wet your were at the wrists, especially when he kisses them reassuringly.

“I love you tied up,” He hums, “You’re so pretty when you can’t do anything.”

You pout up at him, but he doesn’t stay to admire the look long, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the condoms. It occurs to you, in a state of lust driven stupor, that he shouldn’t have to fuck his christmas gift with a condom on.

“Ah, wait—“ He raises an eyebrow at you, hand just inches away from the condoms, “Would you wanna do it raw?”

He blinks at you, again surprised in the same way he was when he first saw you. “Are you serious?”

“We don’t have to—“ You quickly try to rectify the situation, but he cuts you off.

“No, no, we definitely have to,” He shakes his head, closing the drawer with one swift motion, “You’re trying to kill me out here, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, but he’s not listening as he pulls you up into the position he likes most. Legs over his shoulders, body bent in half so he can fuck you hard and fast. He gives you a few seconds to adjust to the position, then he’s pressing his dick into you at a painfully slow pace.

It’s because he’s just so big, he always has to go slow, but you wish he’d just fuck you through the pain right now. The stretch is perfect as always, and you suck him in like it’s nothing with how wet you already were.

He cusses when he finally bottoms out, pressing his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his hot breath fan against your skin, tingling deliciously. “Fuck you’re always so tight. I’m never gonna get used to it, sugar.”

You hum, though you’re in no better shape. Shivering and shuddering every inch, and still quaking as he sits still inside you. You play with his hair to distract from how hot you are, and how you wish he’d make you hotter.

He gives himself a moment to calm down, then he presses a kiss you your cheek, readjusts you just a little so your muscles don’t tense up, and then he moves. The first three thrusts are slow and easy, then he starts to slam into you hard.

“Oh fuck—“ You cry out as the deafening smack of his hips into your ass rings out across the room.

The pace he sets is brutal and unrelenting, you were hoping for it all night. The unspent adrenaline from his earlier fights coming right back to fuck you so good you know you won’t be walking tomorrow. Each slap of his balls against your quickly reddening ass is accompanied by a stifled moan.

He watches you with an intensity you weren’t aware he was capable of, eyes drinking in every single inch of your expression. He looked crazed, but that’s what made it so hot. He was obsessed with every little look, every little sound that left you.

“Don’t be quiet, sugar,” He hums, pushing two of his fingers along your bottom row of teeth to force the sounds out.

“They’ll hear—“

“Let ‘em,” He dismisses, “They know you’re mine anyway, who cares.”

You really couldn’t argue with that, especially not when he shifts ever so slight to hit your g-spot head on. A salacious moan rips out of your throat, and your sure Caesar has figured out what you were up to earlier from that alone. He doesn’t stop ripping sounds out of you, though, continuing his brutal pace and hitting that spot so well you think you’re seeing stars.

The build up to your orgasm is so quick you hardly have time to realize it’s happening. One second you’re fine the next your throwing your head back and moaning like a whore.

“Lighter- Baby, I’m— fuck me- god I’m gonna cum, Lighter.” You admit, way too loud for your liking.

He hums, seeming to switch gears and fuck you faster somehow, “Go ahead, I’ve got you. Lemme feel you cum for me.”

You nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as start litter your vision. You think you nearly pass out, but Lighters hard thrusts fuck you through your orgasm. You squeeze him so tight, like you’re trying to milk his own out of him. You want him to fill you up, want to feel his warm cum deep in your belly. Want to see it drip down your thighs and pool onto the bed when he pulls out.

“Cum inside, please.” You beg.

“Fuuuck… ‘re you—“

You nod, “I need it, please cum in me. ‘S part of your present.”

He groans, fisting the sheets next to your head, “Suagr, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Always one to please, Lighter does exactly as you ask. Filling you to the brim with his thick hot cum. You revel in his moans, and only slightly wish you could curl your nails into his shoulders to leave another christmas gift for the morning.

He eases you into a more comfortable position before collapsing on top of you. His weight is welcome against your spent body, as are the wet kisses he presses into your sore skin. He unties your hand with one of his, and you quickly wrap them up into his hair.

“I love you,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “So much. You’re the best gift a guy can ask for.”

You giggle at the praise, “I love you too, Lighter.”

[p-taryn-dactyl]

l'amour de ma vie

a/n: hi! it's been awhile since i've written for agatha but I though this was a fun idea! kind of an AU? everyone is alive and well, i've taken over. i tried to capture the same feeling of the avenger compound 2012 fanfics bc they have a special place in my heart, but also theres slight 🌶️ in this one than any of the fics i read in 2012

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): science written by someone who barely scrapped by in any type of science class - agatha being agatha - exes to lovers - discussion of a bad breakup - suggestiveness - slight jealous!agatha - top!agatha - slight 'knee thing' - mention of insecurity - slight manipulative!agatha - i love agath's hands, this isn't a warning but a confession -

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader, r is tony's younger sister

prompt: you thought being the sister of iron man, helping your brother not accidentally kill himself in the lab, was the hardest part of your life. turns out, it's keeping your mind objective when your ex is brought in on a mission

The lab was quiet, save the sound of Dummy bumping into tables while trying to feed you a smoothie made from bananas and motor oil, as you wandered around, your mind going over calculations and equations. Tony had mentioned wanting to create a new suit based off of the absorbent energy of the Black Panther and you, being the good sister you are, decided to try and create a prototype as a surprise. Turns out, it was a lot more complicated than you originally anticipated. While Tony was off on a well-earned vacation with Pepper, you spent your nights on the phone with Shuri as she excitedly discussed how she originally made her brother's suit. You thought it was hard to follow Tony when he went on his ramblings about new scientific breakthroughs. Now, it wasn’t as if you weren’t smart, you had a very high IQ, but sometimes it seemed as if Tony and Shuri just understood everything. As you stared at the white board against the wall, smudged questions and equations blurring together, you heard knocking against the windows of the lab. Turning, you saw Natasha and Yelena waving at you, the blonde holding a box of your favorite donuts. Sighing, you signaled JARVIS to let them in, leaning one hip against a table, arms crossed. 

“What happened?” You immediately asked, taking in the slight guilty expressions the sisters wore, super spies your ass. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before the red-head shrugged, plopping down on Tony’s swivel chair. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Yelena took a donut out of the box, sitting on the table you were leaning against, legs crossed as she handed the box out to you. Taking a donut, you raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between your two friends. 

“Guys come on, these are bad news donuts. You only ever get these if it’s my birthday or something has happened? Did you set the laundry room on fire?” You asked Yelena pointedly, remembering the footage JARVIS had sent you two weeks earlier. She gasped, faux offense painting her face as Natasha snorted. 

“You can’t prove that was me,” yes you could, “and fine, yes, we do have news. News that Natasha is just so happy to tell you.” 

Natasha glared at her sister before she sighed, looking up at you. 

“Strange encountered something on one of his last missions, something that wasn’t sorcery but witchcraft.” 

You looked at Natasha, shrugging while slightly shaking your head.

“So? Did he call Wanda? Oh shit, is she hurt?” Worry for your friend clouded your mind before Natasha shook her head, looking away from you as she caught a donut Yelena chucked at her. 

“Wanda is powerful, yes, but she doesn’t have the knowledge required to fully take out this threat. He called in someone known for her magical expertise, after all she’s been around a while.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who Natasha was talking about. 

“No…” You whispered, now fully sitting on the table, eyes glued to the floor as Yelena continued where Natasha left off.

“Apparently, this threat is going to take awhile to understand and Strange has offered her a place at the compound until everything is over. He needs you or Tony to sign off on that and Tony is in Ibiza right now.” 

You just nodded wordlessly, not fully understanding what Yelena was saying. The blonde noticed this, placing a hand over yours. 

“She’s upstairs with him now.”

Your vision tunneled slightly, panic clawing at your throat. Taking a deep breath, you remembered what your job was. 

Protect the people. 

Even if that meant dealing with your ex-fiance, Agatha Harkness.

Your relationship with the infamous witch started out like every Hallmark movie Tony forces you to watch. It was a rainy morning when you ran inside a small cafe near the Avengers Tower, ran straight into Agatha herself. From there, everything was a blur. Now, you’ve pushed the memories away into a box in your mind, forbidden to open. But sometimes you find yourself thinking about the happiness that bloomed in your chest every time you were near Agatha, how your heart almost exploded when she proposed, how happy you were to finally use the wedding book you had made and continued to add to since you were six. Then you remember how Agatha, mere weeks after proposing, started growing distant. Any question about her wedding preferences were waved away with a perfectly manicured hand, claiming that she would be fine with whatever. Her response seemed romantic to you at first, thinking she would just be happy to marry you, no matter the color scheme or the flower arrangements. But then it quickly shifted to her not caring at all. Date nights got canceled, cake tasting was done solo, and you shrunk deeper and deeper into your insecurities. She was obsessed with her own power, constantly chasing leads of witches and wizards who could be easy targets. It all came to a head one night, silently. You remember sitting in the dim lighting of your shared apartment, an anniversary gift from Tony, fiddling with your ring. A glass of wine sat on the counter, untouched but tempting. Agatha had promised to come home at three in the afternoon so the two of you could design the wedding invitations, something you thought could bring her back to you. 

But she didn’t show. 

It was half past nine when you broke, tears pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision as they fell to the floor. You cried silently to yourself as you gathered up the markers and papers you had set out, ripping the designs you had happily scribbled down at sixteen. You left the pieces in the trash, glaring at them for a few moments before you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. Then promptly burst into tears once more. You wish you had handled the situation with the grace and dignity of a Stark but no. You put all the wedding stuff in a bin, stuffing in it a closet, then you left your ring on the counter. You didn’t know when Agatha would be back, sometimes she was gone for days, but that gave you some sense of peace. If she showed up as you had finally decided to leave, you probably would have fallen for her spell once again. All your things in the apartment you just left, knowing that you hadn’t fully moved in and, not to sound too incredibly privileged, you could just replace everything you left behind. You still had that key to the apartment, probably rusting away in a drawer somewhere. Leaving should have felt like a weight being lifted but all you felt was pain. The week after you left was filled with silence, you spent it curled up in your room at the compound, being forced to watch movies sandwiched between Natasha and Yelena, Tony joining occasionally. Your brother showered you with gifts of candy and books, doing everything in his power to bring a smile back to your face. Eventually, it worked and now, a year later, you thought you had healed. 

You were wrong.

The elevator ride up to where Strange and Agatha waited felt like time was being stretched around you. Yelena stood protectively at your side, arms crossed as she glared at the elevator doors, Natasha had wrapped an arm around your waist as you had slightly stumbled from the shock. You felt both protected and exposed as the doors opened, Stephen smiling as he realized it was you, his expression growing concerned as he took in the positions of the two assassins flanking your sides. You didn’t blame him, he didn’t know, but some part of you was angry at the innocent gratefulness that was apparent in his eyes. You felt her eyes before you saw her, they pierced into you before moving down to where Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist. Swallowing, you nodded at Nat, silently letting her know you were okay. The two sisters moved to sit on the couch across from where Agatha now stood, her eyes never leaving you despite the looks she was receiving. Clapping your hands together, you refused to look at her, instead smiling at Strange as you painted on the familiar Stark charm. 

“I heard you needed my signature?” It was more of a statement than a question as you held out your hand for the tablet Strange held. He nodded, relief painting his face as you signed the permission form, allowing JARVIS to assign your ex a room. 

“Normally we would stay in Kamar Taj but whatever it is we’re facing seems to target places of high magical energy.” 

Yelena scoffed, her eyes still boring into Agatha.

“That sounds familiar.” 

Agatha finally looked away from you, her expression almost confused until her face went blank as she raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. Stephen rocked back and forth on his heels for a second once you had finished signing all the forms, obviously thrown off by the awkward atmosphere. He suddenly snapped his fingers as if he had remembered something, giving you an apologetic glance before explaining he had a meeting with Wong starting in a few minutes. Your eyes widened as he turned to Agatha, formally introducing you and explaining you would show her to her new room. At this, Natasha and Yelena shot up, both offering to instead be the guide. Strange looked both confused and scared, opting to just nod as he walked backwards into the portal he had summoned, quickly disappearing. 

“Guys, it’s fine. I’ll show Ms. Harkness to her room.” 

Your friends looked apprehensive, like they would rather swallow a wasps nest than let you be alone with the witch but thankfully they stood down. You closed your eyes as you turned around, heading back towards the elevator, beckoning for Agatha to follow you. 

Time to face the music.

Once the doors to the elevators shut, you focused all your attention onto the screen in your hands, hoping to ignore the way Agatha was staring at you. You heard her sigh before the elevator stopped suddenly. Thinking you were at the right floor, you took a step forward only to be face to face with very closed doors. Confused, you turned to finally face Agatha, finding her eyes slightly glowing purple, same as the emergency stop button. You opened your mouth to ask what was going on when suddenly you were pushed up against the wall, purple magic pinning you down as Agatha stood inches away from you, arms trapping you and one leg in between yours. Her eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before they snapped up to yours, 

“Is this where you’ve been?” You heard a slight tremor in her voice, breaking her illusion of strength. You didn’t respond, your words stuck in your throat as your body reacted to being close to Agatha once more. She didn’t seem to care about your silence, continuing to speak. 

“You look very comfortable here, especially with that assassin.” She spoke with a sneer, her hands moving to now cradle your waist, her grip tight as her thumbs slipped under your shirt. You blinked, absorbing her words before you unwillingly let out a small laugh. She tightened her grip, her hips now practically flush with yours. 

“Natasha is just a friend, I’m not-” You cleared your throat, stopping yourself from justifying your personal life with the person who had torn apart your heart. Agatha leaned in close, her nose brushing against your jaw as she kissed your neck softly, causing you to gasp. 

“Not what?” She prodded, her breath hot against your skin as her tongue traced up your neck before she lightly bit your ear. 

“Agatha…” you sighed, your hands now resting on her shoulders, as if you were debating whether or not to push her away or pull her closer. Her teeth bit hard into your neck before she kissed over the spot, her knee now pressing up against your core. 

“Answer me, Y/N.” 

This was exactly why you didn’t wait for her to come back to the apartment that night, you crumbled too quickly under her hands. 

“I’m not with anyone, especially not Natasha, she’s like a sister to me.” 

Agatha nodded slightly before she leaned her forehead against yours, one of her hands fiddling with the elastic of your sweatpants. 

“Have you been with anyone since you left me?”

Her words were accusing yet tinged with slight fear, worried about your answer. You hesitated before you shook your head, embarrassed at how pathetic you had been after you ended the relationship. Sure, people offered and you tried a few times but always chickened out before anything could ever happen. 

No one was like Agatha. 

Your ex smiled, lightly bumping her nose against yours. You felt your own lips quirk slightly before you realized the position you were in. She was here for a mission, not to fuck you against the walls of an elevator. 

“Agatha-”

Before you could finish speaking, Agatha's lips crashed against yours, immediately establishing her dominance. The kiss was deep, her tongue battling yours before she pulled away, her teeth pulling at your bottom lip. Her hands left your waits, instead now cradling your face. She smirked at your expression, your eyes glassy and your mouth hanging slightly open. Her thumb rubbed your cheek as her other hand brushed a hair out of your eyes. You allowed yourself to bask in the peace of the moment, reminiscing about the time when Agatha sent butterflies ablaze in your stomach. It was quickly ruined, however, by Agatha’s next question which hit you like a bucket of ice water. 

“Why’d you leave me? No note, no explanations, just your ring on the counter and cancellations of our wedding vendors. I thought you loved me, Y/N.” Her last words were almost a whisper, like she hadn’t fully meant to say them outloud. You felt the sharp pin pricks of tears, hurriedly blinking them away, averting your eyes from Agatha. You shook your head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping from your lips. 

“Agatha, what’s done is done, we don’t need to-”

Her hand grasped your chin, forcing you to look at her, to take in the icy fury that was ablaze in her eyes. 

“No.” Her voice was firm, commanding, as you both examined each other’s expressions. “No, I need to know what I did.” 

You didn’t know why, but those words opened the floodgates, both of your tears and your words.  

“It’s what you didn’t do Agatha! You were never there, you didn’t give one shit about our wedding, about planning our life together. Power is your true love, Agatha, and I’ll be damned if I’m just a rebound,” You took a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that were blurring your vision and falling down your face, “You were bored of me, Agatha, I understand that now but by god, you could of just told me instead of stringing me along and single handedly crushing my dreams!”

Agatha looked shocked, the anger disappearing from her eyes, now replaced with something akin to despair. 

“Is that really what you thought? Still think?” 

You bit your lip as you nodded, heart about to explode in your chest at how intense this day had become. Agatha shook her head, leaning so her head now rested on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. It was silent for a moment before you felt the atmosphere shift, Agatha’s hands making their way into your pants, her experienced fingers rubbing your clothed clit as she whispered into your ear. 

“I guess I have to prove you wrong.”

a/n: plz don't hate me i wrote this in two hours and i have to get up early tomorrow or else this fic would be wayyy longer and would probably banish me to self isolation bc i think im ovulating. is that tmi? who cares. ik this wasn't the best but thank you for reading! im sleep deprived

[monsters00km]

I like to think Cassandra would have loved Vi.

Not like right away. But more than Tobias.

The main reason is that most of what we know about her is from Caitlyns' perspective. And honestly is makes sense that a 23 year old who still lives at home and has a mother that is powerful feels the way she does about her mom.

But I think about how Cassandra's protectiveness benefits Marcus. Marcus wanted to keep Caitlyn at arms length and Cassandra wanted Caitlyn safe. So I have always wondered if Marcus used this and kept Caitlyn away from more things and blamed it on Cassandra.

This is the big issue between Cassandra and Caitlyn. Her pursuit of her career. And Jayce makes the comment about it not being an esteemed career, and that's the issue. But this is never confirmed by Cassandra.

And what do we know for sure? Cassandra had Caitlyn removed from the force after her was hurt and almost killed. What if this is the actual reason? Regardless of your opinion on enforcers, their line of work would probably be some of the most dangerous in the city. And we are also told she had Caitlyn put on the tent during progress day. She wouldn't do that bc she thinks Caitlyn is above being an enforcer. Actually, they wouldn't make sense at all bc if she's embarrassed by Caitlyn being an enforcer, why make her watch your tent? Bc it wasn't about that. It was about watching Caitlyn and keeping her safe.

And I am not saying she doesn't want Caitlym to be a council member. I'm sure she does. But just bc she wants that doesn't mean she would actively push that. But it is very understandable to actively push for your kid to be safe.

But the 2 things I keep circling back to om why she would have loved Vi is respect and Caitlyn.

I think the reason Cassandra gives Caitlyn that head nod to go after Vi is bc of how Vi acted in the council chambers. Vi just stood in front of the council and basically yelled at them for not doing enough for Zaun.

And we find out in s2 Cassandra made the air clean for Zaun. This doesn't seem like known information. Which means Cassandra helped Zaun not for the praise or recognition, but bc she thought it was the right thing to do.

And Vi just stood in front of the council and showed no fear, and asked them to help Zaun. And yelled at them when they said no. I'm inclined to think Cassandra would have respected that. She may not have thought it was smart. But she would have respected it.

Then we have Caitlyn. Cassandra is never shown pushing relationships onto Caitlyn. Cassandra would know the struggle of being known as a kiramman and not just Cassandra. Vi wears her heart on her sleeve. Another thing that happens in that council meeting is Vi and Caitlyn looking at each other as if the other hung the moon.

I think Cassandra recognized very quickly that Caitlyn had fallen for Vi. And she could see those feelings were returned.

I think Caitlyn is way more like Cassnadra than Tobias. And i think Cassandra knew her daughter better than the audience gives her credit for. From what we have seen of Tobias. We know he wanted to punish Jayce for the explosion in s1 act 1. Not Cassandra. Cassandra sides with Caitlyn to help Jayce. And in s2 act1 he clearly doesn't like Vi. Or that she is there. And he doesn't support Caitlyn at all in s2. Yes. He is grieving. But Caitlyn is grieving and struggling with blaming herself and the weight of filling Cassandra's shoes. And he isn't there for her. And Vi is. And he doesn't seem to realize that Vi is not only helping to support his daughter. But that Caitlyn wants Vi there. It's all over her face.

And yes, we can address the "oh look a stray" comment. But Cassandra wasn't surprised Caitlyn brought a girl home through her window. The stary comment feels more directed at Caitlyn than Vi. Like it's a jab at how she snuck another girl in through the window. Which would imply that Caitlyn isn't serious about Vi.

Then we have Caitlyn and Cassandra's conversation. And how not only did Cassandra let Caitlyn and Vi believes alone in her bedroom afterwords (Yes they are adults but it is still Cassandra's house she could have demanded they can't be in there alone). But Cassandra did what Caitlyn thought Jayce would do. She helped her. She didn't tell her she was wrong. She didn't push back on her. She got her into the meeting with the council.

This got bigger than expected. But I just have a lot to say about it. I know they are small characters based on their screen time. But their impact on Caitlyn is so important and vital to the story. And the more i think about Cassandra, the more i think people really mischaracterize her. I think she loved Caitlyn and her biggest fault was trying to protect her.

[weepingchronicles]

Hii!! I am the same annon who requested the yan!Jinx with a darling on hunger strike. I saw that I am allowed to make more requests.

First of all I'd like to say that I LOVED the hc u made!

Second of all, if its not too much trouble, could I pretty please with cherry on top request a yan! Jinx with a fem or afab darling who got her/their period(whatever pronouns you are more comfortable with)(bacically due to stress of the abduction she didnt get her period for a while and now it finally came).

Also, do Arcane ladies even her periods? Like- idk how to explain it but I dont get the vibe they would??? Does it make sense???(as somebody who is on her period, I would be so jealous if they didnt. If they did, then I feel pity bc...where do they get pads in the under ground to begin with??)

Anyways, I am really sorry if this is too long ot counts as spam and if you dont feel comfy about writting about this topic, please ignore it!!

Have a wonderfull day and make sure to drink enough water!

a/n: hello! i am so glad you liked it! ♡ thank you for requesting as well! don't worry, this isn't spam. i am just glad you enjoy my writing. this is also written from my own experience with periods since i am afab. i chose to do afab reader since not only women have periods and i want all to feel represented !! although i can not write for someone else's personal expression for obvious reasons. thank you for all the support!

cw: period, yandere behavior, past abduction/kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?)

❝yandere!jinx x afab!reader getting their period❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The thought that you hadn't gotten your period in several months hadn't even occurred to you. The stress and entire adjustment period had kept your mind pretty much occupied. Dealing with Jinx's schizophrenic ass and ideas of escape had filled most of your thoughts. Your last wouldn't have even been your goddamn period!

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But here you were, dealing with cramps and feeling groggy as hell. Your depression had already been bad enough after you were kidnapped but now it feels like hell. All you want is to hide in your bed and forget the world. The world? Sure, but you can't forget Jinx.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You knew eventually you had to tell Jinx, she would understand but the idea of discussing your period with your captor.. just feels wrong. Perhaps it was because you didn't want to come to terms that you've been here for nearly a year. The idea of sharing this vulnerable side of yourself felt too awful to bear.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But it was futile.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Soon enough Jinx comes skipping, yapping about something crazy that happened while she was out in the city. Almost bragging that she could freely roam outside but you couldn't.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She almost didn't notice your silent lackluster attitude. To be fair, ever since you've been taken you hardly wanted to talk much and Jinx didn't seem to mind that.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What's up with you, firecracker? Got your period?" She laughs at her own joke, throwing her head back until she looks back at you, your deadpan face telling her it was indeed your period.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Oh." Her tone and face immediately softens with sympathy and she sits down beside you, throwing her weapon out of the way.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Do you, erm, need anything?" It almost feels better seeing that Jinx is as uncomfortable with this situation as you are. Maybe more. She wasn't the most caretaking nurturing type, but when you needed something she was happy to supply.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Well, my cramps are really awful and I feel exhausted."

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She nods, suddenly running circles around her hideout as she gathers supplies for you. She comes back carrying a bunch of blankets and a hot water bottle for your stomach. She dumps it all on the bed.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Need anything else?" She asks, it amused you to some extent to see her running around, collecting and doing anything for you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Some food would be nice," her eyes widen and she darts in the other direction, after awhile coming back with a bowl of soup in her hands. You don't think you've seen her be this gentle before.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 After some pampering and warm soup filling your belly you feel a lot better than you were before. Somehow through it all, Jinx manages to curl up beside you, her lithe form strewn over you like a human blanket. It was funny as she snored and her blue hairs hung in front of her face.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Perhaps this wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

artist credits: @/iwantmoretime17 on instagram

[nectardaddy]

OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN  . . . single dad! meian + f!reader

                              DELETE DELETE DELETE 

✮⋆˙ notes/CWs - suggestive, 17+ to read, language, meian is insanely flirty, formatted differently than my usual so lmk if we like it! I probably won't stick to it but I like it in this instance :), not proofread bc I'm lazy sorry, dedicated to the wonderful, amazing, best friend forever @nekozaki who truly outdid herself for my secret santa gift so I'm here returning the favor!! you're amazing ellie thank you for being such a wonderful person and writer, I hope you enjoy <33

Re: today is awful  From: Meian Shūgo I can make your day 10 times better if you come over tonight ;)

The woman stared down at the email with baited breath, held it so long she thought she might get dizzy. Until finally a strangled breath passed her lips, filled her lungs before she swallowed harshly. Over and over, she read the sentence; over and over until her heart surged to her throat with her cheeks hot. 

He sent that to her work email. 

A cheeky habit the pair had, emailing each other. A nice surprise to see kind, often silly emails, throughout the day - sometimes he sent pictures from practice, but more often than not he sent terrible dad jokes - so she always replied. Normally, she would send an update about her day, and he would always reply with an endearing message back. But today was different, today was spicy; Meian had a fire underneath him and didn't mind the consequences. 

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she swiped away from the email; torn between wanting to smile and wanting to tear him apart for sending something like that. Her fingers were quick to find his contact and hit call, and she decided to draw and quarter him the moment he picked up. 

The man was at practice around this time, and she knew he had slinked himself away just to answer - which only made her more riled. He answered because he knew what the call was about, no doubt.

“You got my email, didn't you?” A coy question that made her stomach drop and twist in knots; the man had the unique affinity of leaving her breathless. “You miss me that much, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with a faux sense of sympathy, a teasing aura muddled behind a true care and compassion for the woman.

“You can't send shit like that through a work email, Meian!” A hushed tone as she put force behind the man's name, which only made a chuckle sound from the other end of the line. “Oh yeah, laugh it up, those emails are screened by the way. Let's not forget I work at a school.” 

“It wasn't even that bad,” he reasoned. “So put the family name away, I could've sent a lot worse.” 

“I bet you could've, jackass,” she rolled her eyes at his brashness. Her eyes flickered up to the closed door of her classroom, then to the clock on the back end of the wall. At least he knew the times when people weren't in her classroom, that was the only redeeming arc of it all. “Not the point though. Use your brain before you send an email like that again. Think to yourself: is this helpful, is this kind, will it get flagged by my girlfriend's work because I don't know how to contain myself?” 

Another chuckle, and she let out a loud groan. “Pretty hot when you use that tone with me,” he chided, she could practically hear him smirking through the line. “You should use it when-” 

“Dear god, don't finish that sentence right now.” She closed her eyes and groaned once more, and the twinge of exhaustion that settled upon her was apparent even over the phone. He frowned once the tone had shifted, although she couldn't see it. 

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” Spoken genuinely, with a small breath, before she heard him smile again. “‘Love you.” 

There was a small pause, one she could’ve excused as poor signal, but didn’t as she took a sharp inhale. The pair had just recently shared the intimacy of such words of adoration, pouring their hearts out on a drunken escapade that spilled over into the next day, and the day after that. The freshness of the statement still made her stomach fill with butterflies and her cheeks hot; for once, she was glad he wasn’t around to see just how flustered he made her. 

“I love you, too.”

She heard him hum just before the loud bang of a door swinging open on his end rang through. “I’ve been found,” he chuckled, “I’ll talk to you later, alright?” 

“Have fun at practice, Shū.” Instead of his own voice ringing through; however, another took its place. Farther back from the phone, as if they were in front of the man she wished to speak to, and loud - obnoxious. 

“Holy fuck is that your girlfriend? Let me talk to her!”

The click of the call ending was loud, and she only chuckled when she took the phone from her ear. 

3 new notifications from Shū ❤️🏐  never said I wouldn't text you though [image attachment] you should still come over 😏 I can make you forget all about your bad day

taglist (open, send an ask)

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks 

@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @standcom 

@jadeoru @hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @sandwhitches

@knightofwands-upright @angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @arusio

[atoriv-art]

Heeyyy so sorry if this has been asked before buuuttttt.. What are ur thoughts on the sand siblings?

this made me realize i didnt include their rs in the chart i posted REST ASSURED I LOVE THEM. anyway hehehe :3

a lot of my takes on them are headcanon-based (like even more than the hyugas id say) But i assume thats what people r here for anyway. Sooooo

i really like the suna siblings bc their relationship pre-chunin exams is very, like… dysfunctional, but at the same time stable? temari and kankuro are obviously afraid of their brother, and gaara is deeply unhappy around them, but they've all clearly found a "safe" position to exist in yk?

my read on those positions is that temari actually feels more conflicted about gaara than you would think — she's the oldest and therefore the one most aware of how 'wrong' their family is — but she puts her and kankuro's safety first, therefore she resorts to appeasing gaara and generally staying out of his way. kankuro is more of a show-off and while he is afraid of gaara, it's in a more grounded way, if that makes sense? he taunts him like one might taunt an angry dog, he's afraid of him because of what he can do, vs temari who dreads being around him because she's aware of what gaara carries on his shoulders and Represents

i actually 👉👈 have a suna family-centered fic i've been slowly working on 👉👈 that ive been too shy to mention on main LMAO but since we are on topic here u go [link]. it's yashamaru-focused (my WIFE) but it brushes upon the entire family :3 it'll be slow to update since i've been busy with things but if u don't mind that. i mention it here since i use the extrapolations im mentioning here to write it….

aaaanyway. the kids' relationship with rasa isn't very defined (esp for kankuro and temari) but i interpret their situation as the classic… yk, father lost his soul after the mother died sort of thing. it's a bit cliche but it makes sense LOL while the only kid we know for sure rasa was cruel towards is gaara i don't find it a stretch to expand it towards the other two, even if it wasn't as extreme.

so, with that in mind: my personal interpretation is that temari — in addition to getting the usual heir responsibilities — got put into a caretaker role for kankuro, pushing her towards cynicism and self-preservation above all else (she's also the one most likely to remember their mom, and an early loss like that can push one into hyper-independence), while kankuro was left with a bit less pressure but as a tradeoff grew hungry for acknowledgement, eventually feeding into him becoming a bit of a bully as he gets older. i think he was the one with the most... "normal" relationship with their father, but i wouldn't necessarily say that's a good thing lol

gaara is in a unique position because he was not fully raised by rasa, and his relationship with him is a lot more shallow and extreme as a result. instead gaara ended up being built into who he is almost exclusively through yashamaru's kindness and subsequent betrayal — and this is only accentuated imo by the fact that gaara does not (iirc?) at any point willingly bring up yashamaru. he badmouths his father and blames him for who he is, but the formative moments of gaara's childhood that we see are of him with his uncle. isn't that interesting? to me it reads like that's still a wound so deep he can't even bear to acknowledge it; rasa treats him like a monster so gaara is free to spit poison back at him in return, but gaara did wholeheartedly believe his uncle loved him at a point, and the idea that he did not was so world-shattering that he can't even bring himself to acknowledge his existence

all that being said, gaara as we meet him in the exams treats his siblings like strangers and i can't fully blame him for that; while the compounded traumas of 1. losing their mother and 2. the shift in rasa's disposition, cannot be understated, i think what truly "broke" the siblings' dynamic is the way gaara was likely forced into kankuro and temari's lives after yashamaru died. while they'd certainly met before, there's a world of difference between knowing you have a distant, troubled younger brother vs having that brother violently placed into your home in his most vulnerable state after another familial loss.

(yashamaru's rs with his other niblings is never really touched upon but i do think about it often. he was so close to their mom i doubt they had no relationship at all! but that's. you know. what the fic i mentioned is for.)

it inherently puts the kids into an adversarial position, especially with how rasa doesn't try to argue for gaara's humanity. so gaara, freshly traumatized and distrusting, is met with siblings who are terrified of him and a father who he knows wants him dead. to make things worse, yashamaru (my king.) made sure to crush whatever goodwill gaara still had towards the world before he died, so there's no part of him willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. no one has any interest in fixing this situation so this is the dynamic they settle into.

yet! they are still family and there are certainly glimpses of that. one of my favorite moments is temari looking out for gaara for, in our pov, the first time

it's really simple but it always gets an emotion out of me, it's why i think their relationship bothered her the most… one of my biggest gripes with the suna siblings is honestly that we just don't get a lot of them after a point! i would have loved to see them getting closer after gaara takes the first step in closing the distance.

kazekage retrieval arc is easily one of my favorite arcs in naruto it's soooo sweet to see kankuro and temari fighting so so hard for their baby :( i really like the quiet moments where you can tell there's still a lot of guilt over how things were, i wish we got to sit with it a little more because part of the reason i like their bond so much is because of those moments of doubt, you know? i think it's far more powerful for gaara to wonder if he's been fully forgiven, for temari to grapple with the guilt of not having been a good sister to him, than for them to easily slip into a healthy and stable dynamic as a trio.

how do they feel about their father? their mother? how do they feel about their uncle? they are three different people with similar but not identical experiences with all of them, and it makes you wonder how they might navigate unpacking all of that while not jeopardizing their fledgling bond. for example i'm personally a huge fan of gaara coming to view his uncle in an imperfect but ultimately empathetic light, while his siblings see little reason to extend him so much grace.

their personalities in shippuden make a lot of sense to me taking their upbringings into account too; kankuro and temari are predominantly rasa's children, and therefore have rougher edges and are way more averse to earnest displays of affection. gaara meanwhile had yashamaru's influence in his formative years; he knows how to articulate his emotions and acknowledges the importance of sincerity and kindness. i dunno if this was intentional but i think it's a neat detail!

soo much of the suna family follows this pattern of love breeding resentment (rasa's love towards karura breeding resentment against gaara, yashamaru's love towards karura breeding resentment against gaara and rasa, gaara's love towards his uncle being twisted into hatred against the world, the siblings' love for each other being corrupted then saved) it's sooo. chef's kiss. again my only complaint is that we don't see more of them. literally who cares about konoha i want to be in suna forever

[velvetvexations]

hi velvet, i hope this ask finds you well. something happened to me irl a month or two ago and i just cant stop thinking about it, it just shocked and frustrated me so much

so i was hanging out with a couple of my friends (a cis guy who i will call S and two transfems, M and B) at M and B's dorm room, and we were all having a good time, horsing around for a bit and then we eventually got to talking about M's family and their reaction to her being queer and trans. her parents are a little weird about it but supportive enough that she's allowed to openly wear what she wants and date who she wants. after she was done sharing i shared a little bit about my family (very unsupportive, i never plan on coming out to them or sharing anything about my love life to them in any way if i can help it. i am 3 months on T and i plan on never telling them, if the topic of it comes up im just gonna straight up lie.)

after i shared a bit she kind of interrupted me and said "at least you get the short end of the trans stick you know?" and i asked her "huh what are you talking about" "you know, us trans girls they just kill us they kind of just leave you alone (in a sort of jokey tone)" and i looked at S and B to gauge their reactions and they both looked really uncomfortable and like they didn't know what to say. so i said "no?? they kill us too" B and S nodded a little bit and then M said "yeah but they like give you some extra time first at least (laughing nervously a bit)" "yeah thats when they're raping us, corrective rape is a huge issue for trans men" (in hindsight this was fucked up to say but i was upset and wanted to point out that trans men don't get extra grace from transphobes) and then we changed the subject

that whole interaction has really stuck with me, it really really sucked to have TRF rhetoric literally said to my face by someone who i really like and respect and love spending time with :(( ive talked to S about it a couple of times to try and get it off my chest but understandably he stays out of trans infighting discourse so he's just like "yeah that was weird it's understandable that it hurt your feelings" and thats all he has to say on the matter and i havent talked to B about the incident bc M is its roommate and best friend and i don't wanna split hairs but it's refreshing that it agreed with me in the moment

i just don't know that was a shitty moment that happened for sure

I'm very sorry, anon. I'm gullible and always looking for the best in people, but also in case it might help you process it, it sounds like maybe she realized she said something massively wrong and awkwardly tried to walk it back with a joke that made it worse? Like she is not necessarily a complete apricot-aligator which, I know, low bar, but. IDK maybe talk to her about it? Hopefully she'd understand and yall would be able to clear the air.

[elainsgirl]

if anything, nesta and cassian gave "just lust" more than azriel and elain but nobody says nothing about that. acosf was a porn book, im sorry. the end was the only good part.

Hey anon 🫶

🗣️ SPEAK ON IT 🗣️

Literally majority of acosf was just Nesta and Cass doing each other. I distinctly also remember Feyre and Rhys agreeing to a physical only relationship for a bit of acomaf. No where in Acosf do we see Cassian planning a future with Nesta. Yet they want to hate on Azriel - someone who feels unworthy and at that point, didn’t even know if Elain wanted him the way he wanted her - for not planning some elaborate future with Elain? Make it make sense - wait you can’t because once again, this just proves anti-elriel arguements do not make sense and can be so easily disproven.

What I find ironic - Antis love calling Azriel entitled for simply questioning why Elain and Lucien are mates which in itself is not even entitlement but whatever, yet they wanted him to have planned out an entire life with Elain, without her imput or even knowing if she likes him back. And if he had done so… it would have made him…entitled. They are no were near consistent with their arguments. How tf are they criticising him for one thing yet want him to do said thing to prove he has “deep” feelings for Elain ?

“its just lust” - if that was the case, they would have already had a relationship. What was stopping them? After all its just superficial lust. They wouldn’t have cared about the consequences or beaking apart as their relationship wouldn’t have been deep enough for either of them. And this whole lust arguement makes Az seem stupid - which he isn’t. Do they really think he would risk losing Lucien as an ally or have a bloodduel initiated, just bcs he wants to do Elain? He moved on from Mor after 500 years just bcs he now wants Elain? Who he didn’t even know wanted him back *that* way yet was still falling for her? If you actually think logically, it makes 0 sense.

God forbid that man wanting to beg on his knees for Elain. Antis act as though its such a heinous crime. “We wanted to see Az care about Elain!” Then go reread the books. The bonus was there to mirror Wings & Ember, proof Az and Elain are attracted to each other the way all romance couples should be. But then again what would antis know about the characters in a ship actually wanting each other physically?

This is a NA series. You will get explicit thoughts from each character. If you can’t handle that, then maybe the spin-offs aren’t for you. Antis purposely act as though the bonus is the only elriel moment we have. They’ve based elriel entirely on the bonus instead of the books + bonus, and I get why they do it. If they admit elriel have had caring moments pre-acosf then their entire foundation for not supporting elriel falls down.

every single anti arguement unravels so easily when you just apply basic common sense and logic to it.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[bunnyboy-juice]

NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???

[lotus-pear]

rewatched madoka magica again today bc i fucking hate myself and to absolutely no one’s surprise i went through all five stages of grief in a single evening

[aryagar]

Green for Danny for sure the oath suits him a lot. "In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight!" But im betting He'll be able to use the Limbo Lantern (wearing white and black ring at the same time).

Violet for Sam for sure. She is motivated by things around her she loved dearly. Be it best friends, animals, the environment, or whatever her next cause is. Everything she does is caused by her love for those things. Plus it can somehow restore dead beings to life and it kinda fits in how danny will become phantom. Oaths corny tho so sam will surely be reluctant to to accept it.

Imma put Tucker on Yellow cause its the closest i could think of that fits him "In blackest day, in brightest night, beware your fears made into light. Let those who try to stop what's right burn like his power" but it only fits that version of him with ghost powers he wished for. I think tho both orange and yellow is something he would want. Considering his track record whenever hes in a position of power, a ring powered by one's Greed and Fear would fit him.

Im including other charas bc why not

Pariah Dark or Vlad will be rocking that Orange one "This power is mine, this is my light. Be it bright of day, or black of night. I lay claim to all that lays within my sight. To take what I want, that is my right!" Maybe instead of the ring of rage Vlad will go after this one.

Valerie will def be wearing a red one "With blood and rage of crimson red, ripped from a corpse so freshly dead, together with our hellish hate, we'll burn you all, that is your Fate!" Yeah no contest it speaks for itself and lines perfectly with her lines in the series too.

Imagine if Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley were members of the DC Comics Lantern Corps! Which color Lantern Corps do you think each of them would belong to, and why? Feel free to assign them to different Corps, whether good or evil. I'm really curious to hear your thoughts.

[al-luviec]

big fan of these two

[callixton]

i think the thing to understand abt martha jones is that even after she leaves she is five seconds away from dropping everything and traveling with the doctor at any given time. bc that itch to blow everything up and damn her personal duty to hell in search of a higher call never leaves her. but martha is smart. and rational. and has spent a long fucking time needing to keep herself safe. (bc he comes when she calls but never before.) and so she has gotten very good at keeping herself on the right side of those five seconds. but i do think if ten was a different person (if he could acknowledge how much he needed her instead of just how much he liked her) (if he didn’t feel this righteous martyrdom when it comes to being left alone) (if he cared enough about her to beg. if he cared enough about himself.) i think that her answer no would come crumbling down pretty quickly is all.