#i need to return to them. i forgot my roots

[eerna]

First of all thank you SO MUCH for being a safe space to be critical of the new arcane season. I wanted to love it. I really really did. But there’s just too much I can’t look past. It’s nice to have a blog I can scroll through where everyone is in a similar boat.

The more I think about it the more I take issue with the concept behind episode 7. Don’t get me wrong from a stand-alone perspective it’s the best episode in the new season and had my favorite moments. But the more I think about the more it feels…icky. I’m absolutely not opposed to seeing a well adjusted Powder I love Jinx and her tragedy is the hardest hitting part of the show for me. That said, season 1 gave me the impression that powder was always going to grow up “bad” due to the circumstances she was born into.

Even from the beginning, we see she experiences psychosis, and likely other unnamed mental conditions (I resonate most with the idea of her having bpd.) OBLIGATORY mental illness OBVIOUSLY does not make you a bad person—I deal with a lot of them myself—but Powder was growing up in a situation where the world was against her. She was in a triggering environment that exacerbated her mental health issues. In my opinion, Powder’s tragedy was about how the situation she was born into took a vulnerable young girl, chewed her up, and spit her out as a “monster.”

Then we get episode 7 where… everything is ok?? Don’t get me started on the peace between zaun and piltover its ridiculous and that’s all been said. The scenes on the bridge especially irk me WHY are people so freely traveling between the two cities what happened to the classism WHERE IS THE SOCIOECONOMIC INEQUALITY??

To return to Powder, I get what they were going for. I do. I personally have OCD that only flares up when my mental health is bad and is mostly unnoticeable otherwise. I get that one episode isn’t much time to explore things, but I take issue that after LOSING HER SISTER powder would just? Be okay??? Well adjusted?? Maybe I’m biased. One of my favorite things about Jinx are her struggles with mental health—it hits close to home. It hurts to see Arcane mostly drop that in the second season. Does au!Powder have psychosis episodes? Does she ever hallucinate Vi? What about her abandonment issues? It feels so cheap to me to say actually if Powder had never accidentally blown up her family she would have been completely healthy and fine actually—her path to becoming Jinx always always had a societal problem at the root of it.

And maybe you’ll say well powder has a better support system so of course she’s doing fine and I can almost accept that… except for the apparent peace between piltover and zaun?? ARCANE WHERE IS THE SOCIOECONOMIC INEQUALITY YOU CANNOT TELL ME YOU FORGOT? She’s not facing the same kind of discrimination and hardship that main universe Jinx experienced and that made her story so compelling. Now again, one episode isn’t much to explore and perhaps she has issues bubbling under the surface, but it feels strange to completely drop that part of her character in favor of everyone is happy and fine and alive (except vi fuck you vi).

Tldr; Jinx’s story stood out to me as a tragedy about how a bad environment can exacerbate already present mental health issues. She was ALWAYS doomed—she did not have the kind of support and care she needed. Jinx’s problem was never that ooooooog trauma (and silco’s parenting) made her evil. Jinx’s problem is that the world simply doesn’t give a fuck about her and throws her to the wolves. You can remove the trauma from the Powder, but you can’t ever forget that she’s living on the underside of Piltover’s boot.

I can see what they were going for with well-adjusted powder and don’t get me wrong I LOVED her she was so cute. But in combination with some of the other uhhh decisions this season made it just feels like a cop out. Her issues with mental health are nonexistent and yay piltover doesn’t hate poor people anymore, isnt that great? If I could change even one thing I’d give her a little psychosis episode in the scene where Ekko questions her about VI’s death—tying her back to Jinx and causing Ekko to break down the boundaries even more between his mental schema of Powder vs Jinx.

Also don’t even get me started on how I’ve seen some people in the fandom respond. I’ve already seen “awwww ekko should’ve gotten to keep sane!jinx” which. HELLO???

Np~ I am glad to share people's thoughts with the world!! It's nice to read similar thoughts and opinions to your own.

Yeah T.T I enjoyed the p so much, but it was still riddled with the same issues that plagued the rest of the season. The largest is definitely the fact that none of the kids had proper childhoods because the system they live under doesn't allow them peace. You are so right on Powder's episodes - when Ekko started pressuring her and she told him to get out before she does something she'll regret, I legit thought we were about to witness one. She had the body language and the tone of someone who IS about to go off, but then she... Just didn't... Add to that the unrealistic economic situation, which I've already ranted about, and you remove the two unshakeable factors which contributed to Jinx' downfall. Once again the writers are forgetting that the characters didn't start having issues in s1e1, but were suffering long before the show started.

The point of the episode is sort of Dynasties and Dystopia 2: Electric Boogaloo, in that it's dedicated to Ekko's mental separation between Powder and Jinx breaking down. But where in the first instance the breaking came from a really organic place - him realizing mid-battle she remembers their childhood friendship as well as he does - this time it's much simpler. Like. Of COURSE he would start caring for her again if he met her under the most perfect circumstances, where loving her is super duper easy. Letting Powder exhibit her "Jinx"ish tendencies more often would have been a much more interesting situation. I did appreciate the ones she'd had - creating a Vi doll, treating her like she's still alive - but it could have gone even further imo.

As for those saying he should have gotten to keep her as Powder... No what. The point of the episode was that the Powder he'd met made him miss the Jinx he'd known. He wasn't tempted to stay in the perfect world (akhem Heimerdinger akhem) because none of those people could understand him. It's the reason he trusted Vi despite her suspicious return to the Undercity - he can't help but feel connected to those who went through the same trauma he had back then. And that's my fav aspect of why he still cares about Jinx - for the longest time, the two of them were the only survivors of THEIR Undercity. She chose Silco, but she was still the only one who could understand his pain, even across enemy lines. I missed this in s2, too. He said he'd given up on the Undercity becoming a better place, which is bs, he absolutely never did. The only thing he'd given up was her!! SO the speech really should have been about that, and the alienation he'd felt.

In short, I don't really think the episode should have had a "perfect" AU to show Ekko a lesson. It would have been much more interesting to keep it realistic. But oh well, I suppose that's just the chorus of s2

[foursaints]

taking notes, nodding thoughtfully while reading your lily thoughts and I realized I struggle to understand her as a character because everything she is in canon is so muddied by who she is in relation to everyone else. I want her to have a hermit era where she locks herself in her apartment every night learning some new little craft just for the satisfaction of mastering it and I want her to have a going out era where she’s at the bars every weekend and everyone’s watching her but she only dances with her friends and always goes home alone. Like I need to her to live her best life outside of who she is to other people, and see how that’s realized for her. What crafts would she learn behind closed doors, what’s her getting ready routine?

I’ve had friends who feel very much defined by who they are to other people and the expectations surrounding them and it’s interesting to question their conception of themselves - a lot of times, I’ve found they don’t have the words to describe themselves without invoking other people’s opinions of them, even if it’s just an attempt to diminish the reality of those opinions (ex. “I’m not *that* good at piano” etc etc). I want to know how Lily would describe herself and what she sees when she looks back on her accomplishments.

anyways. thank you always for your thoughts 💕

this is such a beautiful message, it’s so thoughtful and well-put. i agree that i find her challenging to pin down because she only (canonically) exists in relation to others but that struggle is what always brings me back to her…

i tend to see lily as profoundly lonely but in a secret way that only makes her more Singular. i think her private life (her getting ready routine!! her daily rituals!!) is extremely well-cultivated because she is used to being misunderstood/projected on but it’s the fact that she appears so self-sustaining that gives her that special halo she has. lily always has little private things it seems she’s doing just for herself (it’s to make the daily experience of Being Herself feel more bearable… she’s trying to assert borders on the nothingness by giving herself Things Lily Does) but it makes others want to watch her and guess at what she’s thinking.

the flipside of this question, to me, is also that it is addictive to be loved in the way that lily is. she doesn’t have a clear picture of who she is (profoundly lonely also means empty) and it can be freeing to have an outsider offer a flattering one for you: when she’s the object of love, she’s a beautiful intelligent witch and even apparent flaws like her temper become charming & palatable facets of this picture. it feels really good to be that girl.

i think it’s less a question of expectations and more one of definitions. her relationship with petunia interests me the most because her sister refuses to see her as Special, and if lily isn’t Special then she’s nothing at all. and that’s really horrifying but it’s also part of her reality.

to me, what happened to her (dying young and getting made into a saint, essentially) is the best thing that could have happened - because she in a sense escaped her own self and Became “that girl” permanently in collective memory. i think she’s pathologically committed to her own self-mythologizing and that’s an answer itself.

[wexpyke]

no but what was that finale… i miss longer shows so much… give us 22 episodes per season again!!! give us more time for character growth and relationship development and bring back fun filler episodes!!!! because what was this finale 😭

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

M!Naga x F!Reader (NSFW)

Themes/Warnings: Nsfw, breeding/oviposition, aphrodisiac themes, monster x reader, fantasy world, mute monster Words: 4.5k Notes:  Hi Hi! Here is this month's free story! A quick tangle with a Naga. Hope you enjoy!

The front wooden door creaked softly as you pushed it open. The soft chime of the bell that hung over the entrance echoed through the shop like a lullaby. It was a much needed relief from the hustle and bustle of the city outside. 

One you traversed through all morning to drop off Isiah’s order. 

“Isiah?” You called towards the back of the store. Where a set of red curtains separated the front of the shop, with many shelves and tables of goods, from the rest of the establishment. 

You heard a returning chime, similar to the bell above the door but much deeper in tone. An answer from the shop owner who was no doubt busy and was signaling to give him a second. 

You decided to wander the store while you waited. Keeping your pack of herbs and roots securely on your back so you don't accidentally knock over anything. 

You browsed the many potions and elixirs that looked both delicious and mesmerizing as they swirled in their small bottles. 

Then moved on to the table of baked goods. Some of which still had a trail of steam wafting off of them. A fresh batch of brownies that smelled absolutely wonderful caught your eye immediately. 

Your stomach gave a hard reminder that you forgot to eat breakfast this morning. 

The sound of rustling curtains brought your attention from the mouth-watering display to the store owner as he slithered out between the silk linings. 

He wore loose veil’s of purple silks and velvet today. So thin in fact that you got a very easy opportunity to gawk at his broad chest; two thick plates of silver scales that melted into the deep navy blue of his serpentine tail. His dark human complexion split apart with his too wide smile as you hurried over to the counter. His hands folded smoothly over each other in Sign before he eagerly plucked open the pack and peered inside. 

“A successful harvest?” He had asked. And you nodded, allowing him to start pulling out various leafy bundles and thick dirt covered roots. 

“It was. Spring has apparently come early this year. I managed to get some of the things that weren’t on your priority list.” You pointed out the leather pouch of flower petals and seeds. Which made the spines along Isiah’s tail quiver excitedly. 

His hands were a blur with his response. “You treat me like royalty, (y/n). You will be compensated, of course.” 

You nodded and waited by the counter as Isiah dipped back behind the curtain, disappearing from sight. 

While you were waiting, a couple wandered into the store. They browsed briefly but seemed to already know what they were buying. Taking their time to browse any new stock but immediately take a few vials from a shelf that passed. Seeming to know the place well. 

They lined up behind you, talking idly until Isiah returned. His smile was welcoming when he spotted his two new customers. And he placed down a pouch of coins in front of you before Signing a question to the couple. 

“The usual?” He asked with a mischievous glint to his sharp gaze. 

“Of course. Why change what works?” The first customer chuckled and fished out some coins to pass into Isiah’s waiting hand. Once the coins were counted, Isaiah leaned over and pulled back the red curtains for the couple to pass through. 

They continued to chat as they disappeared into the back of the shop. But their voices were silenced when the curtain fell back into place. 

“It’s good to see business wasn’t damaged by that review article.” You said, matching your teasing words with an equally joking smile. 

Isiah rolled his eyes, flashing you his fangs in a silent hiss as he feigned anger. His hands spoke his reply. 

“To be honest, that article has increased my revenue. My loyal customers now make reservations weeks in advance so they have a spot amongst all the new bloods.” 

Isiah pushed the pouch of coins closer to you across the counter. “I doubled what I usually pay you since you brought me back so much. But I do have a request, if you’re free today.” 

“A request?” You asked, picking up the swollen bag of money to throw into your pack. “If you’re sending me back out to the wilds, I have a few more stops I need to make before I can go.” 

Isiah’s hands waved away your words and then he gestured for you to follow him through the curtains. 

You trailed along behind him. Thanking him as he held the curtains aside for you before continuing down the warmly lit hallway. 

Looking at the shop from outside, a passerbyer would never imagine the sheer size of the establishment within. The front store was big enough to have its shelving and still have plenty of space for a large sum of customers. 

But the back? It felt like you were walking the corridors of a fancy hotel three times the size of the shop outfront.

You passed seating areas with plush couches and soft rugs spread out beside roaring fires. 

Other areas included pools of crystalline water, bordered by beautiful gardens and mossy carpets. There was a bar beside a tile floor with many tables, perfectly illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. 

The scents of the meals being cooked for customers made your stomach twist with jealousy, as you watched a throuple share a large thick crusted pizza between them. 

“You’ve redecorated.” You said, suddenly coming to the realization that some of the gardens were more lush than usual. And the extra marble pillars hadn’t been there last time. Each with beautiful carvings of scaled tails curling around the thick white beams. 

Isiah smiled broadly, very proudly Signing, “Like I said, business has been good since that article.” 

He led you past the restaurant and the pools to a staff only area. Where the delicious smells of cooked meals turned sickly sweet with an undertone of bitterness that plagued your nose. 

You politely tried not to shiver as the scent of Isiah’s mixtures coiled with your senses. 

You focused on Isiah’s hands as he explained his request, “I have a new concoction I wanted you to try.” He said, pausing to remove a vial from a crystal casing by the door. “They are strong and we have tested it on hybrids and monster kinds already; but not humans. It is safe for you to digest, I made sure of it. But the strength of its effect is unknown.” 

Isiah offered you the vial and you took it very carefully. The vial was made from very thin glass and it felt like you’d crack it just by touching it. 

You popped the corked lid and sniffed it. That sweet smell that filled the room tripled inside your nose and your mouth nearly watered. 

It was a usual reaction from sniffing anything that had Isiah’s venom imbued in it. But this was like you sucked on the most delicious lolly ever, and your skin rippled with goosebumps from the warm sensation that flooded your mind. 

You shivered and quickly placed the small lid back into place on the vial. “That is definitely strong.” You said with a laugh. Still feeling like someone had tickled along your sides, filling you with a blissful tingling. “What was the effect on the monsters?” 

Isiah’s smile was wicked and playful. His hands were slow as he translated in a teasing manner. “It sent a number of them into a rut that lasted many hours. Some are still here enjoying themselves.” 

You gawked up at the naga in front of you. 

Isiah was highly adept at making potions and goods that heightened everything and anything to do with pleasure. Using his venom, which was already a strong aphrodisiac among his kind, to cook and bake and brew all manner of edible contents.

The last substance you tested for him sent you into a lovely high of desire that you shared with a number of other testers. It had been a wonderful experience that had lasted the entire night. And left you feeling bubbly days after. 

However, in all your time working with Isiah or being around his establishment, you have never heard of his goods sending creatures into ruts. 

“Isn’t that dangerous?” You asked. And Isiah shrugged. 

“Only if their partners are unprepared. But I have many happy customers because of this. I only need to ensure that it isn’t going to comatose my human patrons.” 

You knew he was joking when he used the word ‘comatose”. His glistening eyes told you as much. But if this twisted a natural need into a burning desire to a monster, you seriously doubted you’d be making your other stops anytime soon. 

“I think I deserve a little break.” You said. “How do you want me to test it? Do I just drink it? Or do you want me to find someone to share this with?” 

Isiah’s deep gaze sharpened and your entire body heated up under his heavy stare. 

His hands Signed quickly as he leaned forward, his claws trailing over your cheek as he finished his question. “I was hoping I could share this with you. If you’d have me?” 

You smiled, ignoring the growing flustered heat that crawled its way up your neck and into your cheeks as Isiah’s long fingers continued to scrape carefully down your throat. His touch barely left a red mark but his talons left your skin tingling. “Your business will be ok without you?” You asked. And Isiah made a noise in the back of his throat that would have been a hissing chuckle if his voice hadn’t been taken from him. 

“My workers know what they’re doing. And they’ve been ordered to leave me for the rest of the day if you were to accept my offer.” 

You nodded again and Isiah gestured for you to follow him once more. 

He led you out of the cooking room and up some stairs to a room hidden behind a gilded set of doors. 

You knew this as Isiah’s office and had only been here once, when you first came here with herbs to trade for coins nearly at the start of his business career. 

You remember growing incredibly flustered when you noticed his office had, not only a desk and couches set for meetings; but also a large circle bed built into the floor. It was so large fifty people could probably lay in it, tangling themselves together, with ease. 

But now, you were growing more and more excited as Isiah took your hand and tugged you towards the nest of pillows and blankets. When you stood on the lip of the bed, Isiah coiled his tail around your legs, turning to face you and plucked the vial from your hands. 

Without taking his eyes off of you, he uncorked the glass container and pressed it tenderly against your lips. 

You grinned and obediently opened your mouth. To which Isiah tilted the glass vial up and the syrupy liquid pooled onto your tongue. 

The flavor was indescribable. A mixture of sweet honey and bitter dark chocolate. You eagerly swallowed the contents and as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach, you felt a fiery warmth begin to spread through you. 

Pins and needles prickled the tips of your fingers and you sighed as the familiar blissful sensation rushed through you. 

It was very instantaneous, your reaction. And you heard Isiah’s spines vibrate with delight.

So caught up in the enraptured feeling, you almost missed Isiah’s hands moving in front of you. Asking a question. “How do you feel?” 

You smiled and ran your hands along Isiah’s shoulders. The texture of his silks felt so good against your palms. And the rolling muscles beneath his scales had your thighs pinching closer together. 

Isiah shadowed your touches with his own. His large hands smoothed down along your sides. Carefully scraping his talons against any bare skin he found. 

It made your body shiver pleasantly.

“I feel like you’ve just wrapped me up in a warm blanket and put a vibrator between my legs.” It was a vulgar explanation but it’s exactly what you were feeling. 

Isiah’s smile looked almost triumphant as he slid his hands up along your sides and wound his arms around your middle. Pulling you closer, you eagerly fell into his embrace as he slowly twisted so you were lying beneath him on the mattress. 

His tail nudged your thighs apart and you pushed up against him as he settled between your legs. 

Isiah didn’t need to Sign to tease you. His wide smile, showing the tips of his fangs between his lips, said it all. 

Your fists tangled themselves in his silks as your breathing grew heavier. Not from lack of breath, but definitely from the need that was clawing at your restraint. 

“Don’t give me that look. Your venom already drives me insane. This is…by the Gods…please touch me, Isiah.” 

You felt the hiss vibrate through him as Isiah purred contently with your words. His hand snaked between you and you saw stars as your eyes squeezed close with the contact. 

Even with your clothes still on, that small amount of friction sent sparks to every inch of your body. 

You gasped as Isiah’s tongue swept along your throat. You felt the pinpricks of his fangs scratch against your skin and the sensation had your lungs emptying with a moan. 

Isiah rewarded the sound with a rather rushed circular motion between your legs. His fingers pressed deliciously hard against the bundle of nerves that screamed for attention. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed to be naked and you needed his scales against your skin. Every inch of you needed his touch or else you were going to go mad. 

Your hands felt clumsy and slow as you tore off the layers from your travels. Isiah grinned down at you, unhelpful as he continued to rub and roll his palm against your core. You moaned and tried to wriggle away from him just enough to pull your pants away, but the damn naga trapped you beneath him with a single hand wrapping around your throat. 

Your eyes widened and your whole body burst with that fiery desire as Isiah shook his head down at you. His hold was strong but careful. Allowing you to breath and twist in his grasp, but you couldn’t pull away. Not even if you wanted to. 

Then his lips moved slowly and so deliberately that you caught every sweet syllable of the word; “Slowly”, and his gaze dipped low enough to point at your pants that were unbuttoned and your belt removed. 

You nodded and tortuously slowly, started to slide your legs out of your trousers. Isiah leaned back enough to watch your thighs become bare, displaying your folds as his tail returned to settle between your now naked legs. 

The very touch of his cool scales against your core had your hips rolling desperately. He grinned and pushed harder against you, his hand still firmly around your throat while his other palm squeezed and molded your breath between his fingers. 

You whimpered. Actually whimpered! As the subtle roll of his scales gave you the friction that you wanted. It wasn’t scratching that itch by any means but it was enough to have your head rolling back and your hips feverishly grinding against him. 

You felt Isiah shift and the cool scales were replaced by something thicker. You smiled and reached for him, eagerly gliding your hands down the largest of Isiah’s two cocks. 

His eyes fluttered closed as you gripped him and immediately started to rub him. Your pussy wetted the base of his length while your hands fondled and massaged the round head. 

Pearlescent precum started to bead at the tip and you licked your lips, imagining his weight on your tongue. 

But as much as you wanted to taste him, you needed him inside you twice as much. 

Isiah’s cock was very human-like. But only in shape, with the rounded head and the soft sheath that protected the tip. The rest was all naga. To the deep, almost black color that melted into silver at the head, to the massive size that had your core clenching with just the idea of him stretching you. You could feel the soft ridges along the underside and when you tilted your hips just right, you could catch that textured side along your clit. 

Isiah’s hips began to roll in rhythm with your frenzied thrusts. 

His eyes were half closed, lost in the sensation of your hands pleasuring him brutally as you worked him to full length. 

The second cock had not revealed itself yet. Which in the back of your mind, was strange. Both cocks were used for different things. But they were always both present when a naga was getting intimate.

The smallest was commonly used for pleasure, being the most sensitive part of the naga.

The larger of the two was always used for breeding. 

It was how certain male species of naga would lay their eggs. While others produced sperm, you knew Isiah’s species instead produced soft, pliable eggs. They were only ever fertilized when the second cock would be used after the largest. 

You didn’t know however, if this was something Isiah intended to do. And the thought of him stuffing you with his cock and then breeding you, had your mind turning into putty and your moans becoming louder.

The whispering of Isiah’s spines vibrating told you he enjoyed the sound. And Isiah moved so you were crushed beneath him as he started feverishly fucking himself between your thighs. 

Your moans turned into breathless cries as the ridges along his cock rolled along your clit over and over. 

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, kissing and biting the soft flesh between his scales as he gasped and hissed above you. Taking his own pleasure while you desperately tried to keep up with his heated pace. 

“Isiah, please!” Your begging plea was matched by your hands scrambling to move him in a way that gave you space to realign yourselves. 

Your bed partner nodded, panting as his tail twisted to maneuver himself so your hips no longer touched, but the rounded tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. 

The first second of pressure had you squeezing your eyes shut. So ready was your body, that it welcomed Isiah with a warm, very wet entrance for him to slide into. 

But after the first inch, your body tensed and Isiah’s spines shivered with displeasure as he forced himself to slow and properly stretch you. 

His hands were wrapped around your hips, his claws left red dents in your skin as your hips rolled in tandem to stuff Isiah’s girth between your legs. 

He was taking too long. You could take him, you knew it. He just wasn’t at the right angle. 

You managed to regain control of your body long enough that you somehow forced Isiah onto his back. 

The naga definitely let you do it and his wide smirk only fueled your need as you mounted him. Driving your knees into the mattress on either side of his hips as you wrapped your hand around his length and angled it towards your core. 

And like the smug male he was, Isiah relaxed into the pillows and let you work yourself into a frenzy. His hands found soft places on your body to pinch and squeeze while you panted and rolled your hips down on top of him. 

Immediately, the tip slipped inside and you braced your hands on his chest, murmuring soft nothings in between moans as you kept penetrating yourself on him. 

Isiah’s eyes watched every sway of your hips as you took him. His eyes occasionally rolled closed when you sunk fast down on him or squeezed in a way that sent pleasure shooting through his body. 

But his gaze was glued to you. Locked on the beautiful display of heated need that had you taking his full length and seating yourself around him. Only when your ass sat flat against his hips did Isiah move. 

He sat up so fast you were almost knock back. But his hands wrapped around your waist and held you securely against him. 

His lips found yours in a heated kiss. One that had his fangs nicking against your lower lip and his forked tongue swept hungrily against your inner cheeks. 

And then his hands started to set a rhythm. 

Bouncing you slowly, intending to test if you could take him. But you whined and shoved his hands away. Planting your hands on his chest and instead lifting your hips away from him until only the tip of his cock was still inside, and then slamming down with a slick sound of skin slapping scale. 

The friction had you seeing stars and white flashed through your eyes as you continued to ride Isiah hard and fast enough that your thighs immediately started to burn. 

Isiah writhed beneath you. Hands locking onto your waist once more as he looked up at you with dark, hungry eyes. 

His grin was wicked. Seeming pleased to see your mouth hanging open, eyes hooded and your body lost to the sensation of being so overly stuffed your belly bulged everytime you came down. 

Then his thumb nudged against your clit and your sounds twisted, becoming louder and desperate. You clutched his wrist, unsure whether to throw his hand away or lock it against you as he rolled the pad of his finger against the fiery clutch of nerves. 

You didn’t get time to decide. 

Not long after his fingers worked you over, you felt him begin to swell inside you. His rhythm, one he smoothly kept up with you, faltered and his tail writhed behind you like a piece of string on the wind.

You heard his spines vibrate and then lock down against his scales and Isiah’s head rolled back with a silent cry as his climax rushed through him. 

His hands, locked on your waist, held you tight against his hips as he rutted up into you. You were rocked harshly above him, but unable to move an inch as he spilled inside you. 

You felt his warm seed flood you, but then something thicker began to stretch you. You gasped and squirmed, but Isiah was stronger. Keeping you firmly in place as his first egg seated itself inside you. 

His rapid pace pushed the egg deeper and deeper until you felt it snugly rest against your cervix. The foreign feeling was like a cooling agent to the fire in your stomach. 

That desire still raged but a sense of contentment spread through your mind as well. 

“Is there more?” You asked Isiah. Your voice felt like sandpaper against your throat. How long have the two of you been fucking? You felt sweat along your brow and back and your thighs burned to the point you weren’t sure if you could move them anymore. 

Isiah smirked and suddenly you were on your back again. And Isiah spread your legs to the point you gasped, and continued to pound into you. 

He couldn’t fit all the way this time. Not with the first egg inside you. But the friction and new angle had you both panting again in minutes. And you cried out as his cock swelled with his second finish, laying another egg that he kept fucking deeper and deeper until you felt it slide against the first. 

The fog started to lift from your mind. You could make out the shadows that were now cast along the floors of the office from the windows. The once blue sky outside was now pooling with oranges and pinks. 

A sunset. 

But Isiah’s rough kiss scattered the sudden shock with a new sense of need. 

Again and again, Isiah pounded into you. Soon your voice was lost to you, leaving only loud pants and squeaky moans as he penetrated your overly sensitive pussy until his eggs were sweetly embraced between your walls. 

By the fifth egg, even Isiah was exhausted. He nuzzled your neck and the spines along his tail shivered softly as he curled around you. His cock still buried as far as it could, lazily stroking himself as he reveled in his own overstimulation. 

You were a mess. Unable to think and slipped in and out of a blissful slumber while Isiah used you. 

It was only until you felt him slide out of you, leaving a great gaping emptiness, did your mind finally come back to you. 

And you reached for him as his tail slid around you. Coiling your body against the thick, cool muscle against your very warm body. 

Isiah nuzzles against your back as he moves up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he settles amongst the coils of his tail. 

He then lifts his hands enough that you can see the question he Signs. 

“Is it any good?” You don’t have to look at him to sense the teasing smirk. He damn well knows it’s good. But you indulge him regardless of how scratchy your voice sounds. 

“I blinked and suddenly it was the afternoon.” You mumbled with a laugh. You shifted to get more comfortable and your sensitive walls sent flames of heat through your body as the eggs inside you shifted as well. You touched your stomach and turned your head enough to look over at Isiah. “So, what do I do with these eggs?” 

Isiah’s hands moved lazily in front of you as he snuggled more deeply into the pillows, exhausted. “You are safe with them inside you. I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission first. The scent of your heightened lust sent me spiraling. And I also have a small kink with breeding, so I lost control. I will remove them after a quick nap.”

“You’re fine. I’ve never been…bred like this before.” You admitted. Also laying your head amongst the mountain of pillows. 

You peel open your eyes when you felt Isiah’s arms moving again. 

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You said. Not at all ashamed to share this with Isiah. “I enjoy all manner of being used like this. I’ve just never had a Naga male do it to me.” 

“Glad to be the first.” His hands said playfully. Which you rolled your eyes at. “But it was very sexy to see you take over. I’ll happily fill you with eggs again if you ride me like that again.” 

“It’s a deal then.” You managed to mumbled before you lost the fight against sleep and were pulled into a warm, sweet sleep, nestled against Isiah’s tail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[innerfare]

Sabo Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Sabo angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Makes a light joke, inspects the wound himself even if there’s a doctor present, will help bandage you up if you need it. Pretends to be nonchalant about the entire thing, is panicking inside. Fully realizes the depths of his affection for you, is terrified to realize it’s love.  

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

He didn’t get his pearly white smile by slacking off. When you’re brushing your teeth together, he’ll pause to inform you he’s better at it than you, that he has the best technique, that his dentist always compliments his teeth. Doesn’t explicitly challenge you like Nami and Luffy, but can’t help but get competitive. 

Flowers: 

He’s gone for very long periods of time, so when he returns, he’ll bring you a bundle of peonies or calla lilies, but he also bought you a cherry blossom bonsai tree so you can have flowers even when he’s away. The bonsai tree ends up becoming his baby, and when he is home, he spends quite a bit of time tending to it, to the point you get a little jealous. But it brings you lots of comfort when he’s away, a symbol of your love that’s firmly rooted and eternal. Side note, he will most definitely use flowers to seduce you. 

Type of Date: 

Takes you to the aquarium or zoo, the two of you wandering around hand in hand, pointing at different animals and saying, "that's you." Also takes you on a lot of picnics (far less elaborate than the ones Sanji plans) that you spend either in silence or editing his manuscript. And he knows the lay of the land in terms of hole in the wall restaurants, quiet little nooks where you can cozy up to one another and not be disturbed. Will occasionally risk it all to take you to water parks despite being a wanted man.  

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

His bedroom at the Revolutionary Army’s base is a total bachelor pad, and when you see it for the first time, it wasn’t planned, so he’s a little embarrassed by the state of it. He has some dirty dishes he forgot about, some dirty laundry on the floor, and a pile of books on his bed. He spends virtually no time there and probably wouldn’t even have furniture beyond a mattress on the floor if it wasn’t provided by the Revolutionary Army as part of his living quarters. That being said, he did pin Luffy’s and Ace’s wanted posters to his wall, and he has a couple of different lotions and skincare products on his bathroom counter. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

Sabo can be pretty hypocritical. He takes so many risks and claims he wants a partner who can keep up with him, but if you take risks without him to back you up (the way he constantly takes risks without you backing him up), he’ll get mad at you because it triggers him so deeply; he has nightmares about you dying, but he normally hides them from you. It usually devolves further when you accuse him of not living by the egalitarian ideals he espouses by trying to control you. Other times, you fight because he was shamelessly flirting with someone else (flirting is an instinct for Sabo and he's so naturally charming that sometimes he really just can't help it). But you two have a special spot (a pink peach tree on Momoiro Island) and whoever is ready to make up first goes there and waits for the other; he once waited two full days and nights for you. When you get there, he’ll offer you a pink peach and a sheepish grin. 

Paradise 1: 

Wandering through a flower field and picking some of the more beautiful blooms that catch your eye, sprawling out on a picnic blanket in the late morning to bask in the sweet scent, enjoying the breeze as it ruffles your hair, weaving some of the flowers you picked into a delicate crown that they wear proudly while the two of you share sweet kisses. 

Paradise 2: 

Meandering through the woods in search of the tallest, most impressive tree, him giving you a boost up to the first branch to get you started before climbing up himself, staying behind you the entire time so he can catch you in case you fall. Finally piercing the canopy and poking your heads up above the forest, his hand on your leg to keep you steady, the two of you grinning as birds fly by, basking in the afternoon sun. 

Paradise 3: 

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again. 

Paradise 4: 

Waiting until late evening to meet beneath a peach tree, speaking at first in hushed tones, worrying someone is on to the two of you, eventually forgetting about all of that and settling into easy conversation about nothing and everything simultaneously, him jumping up to pick a peach for you to have as an evening snack, you taking advantage of the last bit of light to carve both of your initials into the tree trunk. 

Nightmares: 

You’re on stage in an auction house being sold off to the highest bidder. He’s there, but he can’t get to the stage, as if he’s trapped behind invisible glass. He’s screaming his head off and throwing himself at the glass, but everyone just ignores him, the slave auction continuing as though he’s not even there, Sabo completely powerless against the injustice of it all. You’re crying and struggling in your shackles, but it’s no use. He wakes up thrashing, ready to fight anyone who stands between him and you. When he’s met only with darkness, he doesn’t relax but instead gets dressed and wanders off to find some work to do, the sound of your shackles clanking as you struggle against them stuck in his head like a sick song, the sight of Celestial Dragons bidding on you like an object lighting in him a fire that will burn down every auction house in the world. 

Wearing His Hat: 

You and Sabo were supposed to be sparring, but he wasn’t taking it seriously. You could tell by the way he kept looking over your shoulder, the way he pawed at you instead of striking when you gave him an opening. You considered complaining, but you knew better than to nag a man like Sabo. He would just ignore you like he did everyone else who tried to get on his case about something, the Army’s Chief of Staff being an expert at tuning out voices. 

So, you decided to get creative. 

The next time his eyes left your person, you swooped in. His arms went up to block you, more out of habit than anything else, but you didn’t strike him the way you normally did. Rather, you snatched his hat off his head with a victorious laugh. 

“Hey!” His eyes widened, and suddenly, his full attention was on you. “That’s mine.” 

“Is it?” You placed his hat atop your head with a mischievous smile. “If you want it back, come and get it.” 

Sabo’s expression lit up as you issued your challenge, and as he positioned himself back in his fighting form, you had to wonder if you would regret riling up the Chief of Staff.  

I Love You: 

Sabo is always taking risks. He lives a dangerous lifestyle as the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, and on top of being one of the most wanted criminals in the world, he is an incredibly reckless individual who thrives when his life his threatened. He does not, however, thrive when your life is threatened. So accustomed to being the one others are fretting over, so used to Koala telling him off for taking this risk or making that dumb decision, he is completely blindsided by the anxiety he experiences when he finds out you’ve been captured. Naturally he launches a rescue attempt, and when it succeeds, he wraps you in his arms and tells you how much he loves you. He always makes sure to say it after that, telling you in the morning when you wake up and at night when you go to bed together, the memory of not having you there to hear it all too fresh. 

You’re Jealous: 

Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[earthchica]

ungodly hour / three

joel miller x black! reader

summary: you are living with joel again, and you both get to see the baby for the first time.

warning: fluff, slight angst, pregnancy, ultrasound, jealousy & possessiveness, age gap, language, nicknames.

__ series masterlist

You groaned into your pillow while attempting to shield your eyes from the sunlight seeping through the blinds.

Shifting to the other side of the bed, you glanced at your watch to check the time. 

It was 7:00 am.

Slowly rising and rubbing your eyes, you adjusted to the surroundings, realizing you were back living with Joel.

Joel suggested you move back in, and you agreed to stay only until the baby was born. 

The experience has been awkward but manageable, with both of you skirting around the unspoken tension.

With a dramatic sigh, you rolled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom to kickstart your morning routine.

You let your long, thick locs down from the bun you had it, and you ran your fingers through each one.

You then got dressed into an oversized brown button-up shirt and paired it with some well-loved low-cut jeans, and my brown boots.

You headed downstairs to grab your keys and saw a little note from Joel.

You were a little disappointed that he didn't wait for you to go to the dining hall but you two used to do that when you were a couple.

You guessed he didn't want to make you feel weird or whatever. With a sigh, you grabbed your keys and jacket before heading out.

Once you were inside the dining hall, you immediately got yourself some breakfast.

You spotted Joel in a denim button-up shirt paired with his favorite worn-out jeans and boots, sipping on coffee and engrossed in a book.

"Good Morning, Joel," You greeted him warmly, and he looked up with a glint in his eyes, returning the smile.

"Morning, darling. Sorry...I don't wait for you, I had to do something for someone" Joel said, and you nodded, sitting down at the table with him.

"It's okay...no need to apologize." You said with a small smile before eating.

You both enjoyed your breakfast together in a comfortable silence until finished.

"Oh, damn...almost forgot to tell you I have a check-up with Charles today. So after our duties, do you want to tag along?" You asked.

Joel nodded with excitement in his eyes, getting up from the table which surprised you.

"Of course, we'll head over there after. Is that okay?" He asked and you nodded, grabbing your jacket before leaving with him.

Upon arriving at the greenhouse, you devoted your time to cultivating vegetables, fruits, and various plants.

You found great joy in this work, as it served as a therapeutic retreat from the stresses of life.

The vibrant colors of the fruits and the fresh scent of herbs always lift your spirits.

You looked up from where you were standing and smiled at Cameron.

He was a guy who also worked in the greenhouse, he was always sweet and thoughtful.

Cameron busied himself by watering the plants and checking the soil, his enthusiasm contagious.

You were about to head out to meet Joel but you paused as Cameron rushed up, and called your name.

"Hey, before you go could you help me with something real quick?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Sure, what do you need?" You replied, walking over to him. He pointed to a row of potted herbs that seemed to be struggling.

"I can't figure out what's wrong with these. I've tried adjusting the watering schedule and checked for pests, but they still look wilted."

You examined the plants closely, your mind running through possible causes.

"Let's check the roots," You suggested. "Sometimes, the problem lies beneath the surface."

Together, you both carefully lifted one of the plants from its pot, revealing a tangled mess of roots that had outgrown their container.

"Ah, root-bound," You said, nodding. "They need more space to grow. You should report them in larger containers."

Cameron grinned appreciatively. "Thanks! I knew you'd have the solution. So um, I was wondering if you weren't bus-" His words were interrupted by Joel.

"Don't you even fucking try it," Joel remarked, stepping inside with a determined expression that caused you to roll your eyes.

"Oh, Joel. Hey, man" Cameron stuttered nervously.

"Whatever you were about to ask her, it's not happening." He says, placing his hand on the lower of your back.

"Joel?" You interjected, glancing at him with annoyance.

"Well, I apologize, but rumor has it that you two broke up. Is that incorrect?"

There was a moment of silence before you addressed the situation.

"Yes, that's true, but Joel and I are sorting things out.-" Then Joel barged in with some words that were better left unspoken.

"Yeah, and she's carrying my kid. So there's no way you stand a chance with her," Joel disclosed, prompting Cameron to widen his eyes as he glanced at your growing baby bump.

"Oh, uh, okay. Best of luck to both of you then," he muttered, walking away with an air of resignation.

Joel couldn't hide his amusement as he observed Cameron retreating to tend to the plants. He then turned to you, noticing your annoyance.

"What the hell was that?" You asked as soon as you both left the greenhouse, hands on your hips, expecting an explanation.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Joel responded, walking off, and you followed him to the clinic.

"Oh, Joel, you know what the hell I'm talking about. You have no right to act like a fucking jealous asshole" You commented while watching him stop in front of the clinic doors.

"I know and I'm sorry, darling." He said with a sigh. You shook your head as you both stood there in silence.

"Did you really mean what you said...about us sorting things out?" he asked, shifting the conversation while running his hand through his hair.

"I don't know Joel," You said, heading into the clinic, and you took a seat, anticipating your name being called.

Joel came in shortly after and took a seat beside you, giving you a perplexing look that you couldn't quite decipher.

You rolled your eyes and decided to flip through an old magazine on the nearby side table.

A few minutes went by...

"What the hell is taking so long?" Joel nervously inquired, tapping his leg and checking his broken watch repeatedly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anxious behavior. It is kind of weird and sweet seeing him like this.

"Joel, are you okay?" You asked, glancing at him and he briefly looked at you before focusing ahead.

"Yup...I'm fine, why do you ask?" Joel replied, still fidgeting with his leg.

"Oh I don't know, maybe it's because you keep shaking your leg like you're in a hurry to use the restroom or something!"

Joel attempted to stop but to no avail which made you giggle a little.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit nervous," he admitted, offering a shy smile. You reassured him by holding his hand tightly.

"Everything will be fine, Joel. Just relax!" You comforted him, and his leg gradually ceased its movements, bringing smiles to both of you.

__

The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the machine filling the silence.

You lay down on the examination table with Joel standing beside you, offering a reassuring smile.

You felt a flutter of butterflies in your chest when he did that. Charles walked in with a relaxed demeanor.

"Hey, you two," he greeted you and Joel with warmth, and you both returned the gesture.

"Are you both ready to see your little one?" he inquired, and you nodded in response.

"Alright" He smiled and applied the cool gel to your belly, causing you to shiver slightly from the sensation.

As he moved the transducer across your skin, the screen flickered to life.

You both stared in anticipation, breaths held, until finally, the image became clear.

There, amidst the grainy black and white, was a tiny, pulsing heart.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached for Joel's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Wow!" He exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen. You looked up at Joel and noticed tears streaming down his face.

"That's our baby?" he asked and you nodded. "Yes, that's our baby,"

"The baby is healthy. I recommend you continue doing what you’re doing. Other than that, I’ll see you both at your next check-up," Charles said as he rose from his chair.

"Thank you," Joel and I responded in unison, shaking his hand. Before he exited the room, he handed me a picture of the ultrasound.

You smiled down at it, unaware that Joel was standing right beside you.

"I can't wait to meet her or him," Joel said, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing the side of your forehead.

He seemed oblivious to his actions until you cleared your throat and looked up at him pointedly.

"Oh, sorry. Um, uh, let’s go home," he stammered, hurrying out of the room.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You couldn't believe he still had that effect on you.

"Yeah," You nodded, even though he had already exited. You had to get yourself together before leaving the ultrasound room.

tags

@orcasoul

@joeldjarin

[cece693]

Numb (Tony Stark x Gender Neutral! Reader)

Something that I had saved and forgot all about.

Summary: You didn't understand Tony's decision; he'd left you with a gaping hold in your heart. It was easy to feel anger and resentment, but was it really a surprise how things ended?

tags: slight comfort, post-endgame, Tony's dead, reader handles the loss, mourning, last words/message

You stood there, numb, as Tony's heart drifted farther down the lake, a small, fading dot on the horizon. The weight of what you had done pressed down on you, and without a word to anyone, you turned away, heading home. As you stepped into the house and climbed the stairs to your bedroom, everything appeared the same—yet it all felt different. The one piece that truly made this a home was now gone forever.

When Tony sacrificed himself, it was easy to be consumed by anger. How dare he leave you like this, sobbing and begging for him to return, all for the sake of Earth? After everything, after all the times they had wronged him, it was you—the one person who never turned their back on him—who was left behind. That anger still simmered beneath the surface, but now it had dulled into a numbness that spread through your entire being.

Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey had all tried to comfort you, offering words meant to soothe the unbearable loss. But their attempts only made it worse. They didn’t understand—they couldn’t. What they had lost was different from yours. Tony was your husband and he'd failed your wedding vows. Through sickness and health—the battle with Thanos had no place there.

All you wanted was to be alone, to sit with the emptiness that had taken root inside you, to feel it in its entirety without anyone trying to take it away. That emptiness, as hollow and painful as it was, felt like the last piece of Tony you had left.

Looking around, your vision blurred with unshed tears, taking in the sight of the room. It was a mess, but that was typical when living with Tony. The wardrobe door was flung open, shirts haphazardly hanging half in, half out. His favorite jacket was draped over a chair, and a pair of mismatched socks lay abandoned on the floor. It was like he had just stepped out for a moment, like he would walk back in any second with that roguish grin, asking if you’d seen his watch or where he left his keys.

Your eyes moved to the messy bed, and you couldn't help but collapse onto it. Bringing Tony's pillow to your nose, you inhaled deeply—taking in his familiar cologne and the faint scent of oil and metal that clung to everything he touched. As you lay there, your mind replaying happy memories, something caught your attention.

Hesitantly, you reached out and picked it up, your fingers trembling as you recognized the Stark tech design. With a deep breath, you activated it. A hologram flickered to life, and there he was—Tony, looking at you with that familiar blend of warmth and determination that only he could pull off.

"Hey, love." his voice was soft, almost soothing, but there was an undercurrent of sadness. "If you're seeing this, it means I'm gone. And I know you're angry, probably cursing my name right now. Believe me, I didn’t want to leave you. God, I wanted to stay more than anything."

He paused, as if searching for the right words. "But…you know me. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to save everyone. It’s who I am—who I've always been. I know that’s not an excuse, and it doesn’t make it hurt any less. But I need you to understand that I didn’t choose them over you. I chose all of us. I couldn't bear the thought of a world where you weren't safe."

Tony’s image flickered slightly, and you could see the pain in his eyes. "I hate that I hurt you. But you…you're stronger than you know. And I need you to keep going, to live your life, even without me in it. Because, in a way, I’m still here. I’m always with you."

He took a shaky breath, and his voice softened. "I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I will love you until the end of time. Forever, remember? That’s what we promised. And I’m keeping that promise, even now."

As the hologram continued, you could hear the faint background noise—a gentle clinking of dishes, the hum of a movie soundtrack. Your heart ached as you recognized the scene: it was the last day you spent together. The day you cooked dinner side by side, the laughter you shared, and the quiet intimacy of watching a movie on the couch.

Now everything made sense. Tony’s extra affection, his words of love, and the lingering touches—they were all part of his farewell. It was as if he had known he wouldn’t have another chance to show you how much you meant to him. The realization hit you like a wave. How long had Tony known his fate? How long had he been preparing to say goodbye, knowing he had to make every moment count?

As the hologram began to flicker and lose its stability, Tony’s image took on a more solemn, resigned expression. His voice softened even further, as if he were speaking directly to your heart.

“I have to go now. But remember this—no matter where I am, my love for you will never fade. It’s with you always, even in the darkest moments. If there's an afterlife, I'll be waiting for you.” The hologram shimmered one last time, and with a final, loving glance, Tony’s image faded into the darkness. Clutching the device to your chest, the tears that you have been holding back finally spilled over.

[animentality]

guys.

guys. it finally happened.

blue lock finally brought me back out of the coma it was putting me in during most of the NEL arc.

hallelujah.

this new chapter is actually doing something fucking interesting for a change.

let's talk about it:

noa's betrayal was probably the only genuinely surprising development in the entire arc. I was worried it would get immediately ruined by Isagi surpassing noa in this match.

because Isagi glazers are the most annoying people on earth and they were starting to make me think Kaneshiro is a fucking idiot who'd actually let a 17 year old amateur beat a 30 something year old PROFESSIONAL.

thank god Kaneshiro isn't as stupid as Isagi fans want him to be.

now we're actually getting a proper build up for when Isagi faces off with him later.

Isagi grabbing noa by the fucking arm and challenging him in front of the entire world?

that was actually cool. I say this as the world's third biggest Isagi hater...

I can't deny. I am into that.

actually. you know what, Isagi.

that takes guts, and I actually like how fucking insane you looked when you did it.

beat that white man.

plus it actually gives their eventual face off in the future much higher stakes.

and it's like oh ... I forgot blue lock could be exciting. how intriguing.

but it's not just that either.

Isagi actually admitted he can't beat Rin alone. he can't beat geniuses head to head, just by being smart.

he needs to use other people around him... even if that means asking them for help, and not just manipulating them.

this is an amazing development.

because again. Isagi stans are out here insisting he can be the number one striker just because he wants to be. just because he's "ruthless."

well nope.

he cannot and will not ever be able to do the kinds of things other players do. he can't 1v1 Rin. he can't beat noa on his own.

but that doesn't mean he can't still win.

and man. man, I fucking dig it. Isagi, admitting he has weaknesses?

Isagi, admitting he has to sink further, he has to truly abandon everything, and break himself again?

I remember when that had meaning. Before NEL.

now... at the end, Kaneshiro remembers Isagi is an underdog and he needs to face hard truths and struggle every step of the way because he's not naturally gifted like the rest of these whores.

like shit. maybe I can root for you again. maybe.

and the best part too.

Isagi has to ask Kaiser for help.

he has to swallow his pride. he has to throw away his morality and his soul.

he will team up with his worst enemy to win...

that's fucking... good.

that's actually decent. one good fucking thing this arc, amazing.

I needed to see Isagi humbled, and he was.

I needed him not to be a fucking Gary stu who can do things on his own and can surpass everyone just through the power of yapping.

him having to team up with Kaiser...after Kaiser just broke himself down too...after Kaiser gave up on his hatred for Isagi because it was holding him back...

Oh my God.

blue lock remembered what parallels are? and setup? and actual emotional stakes?

blue lock remembering that Isagi was best when he was actually struggling and not effortlessly beating everyone else through the power of plot?

and the fact that he hates Kaiser... and Kaiser hates him... but they both want to win and defeat these geniuses so badly... they'll do the unthinkable and work together?

going back to its roots, of insisting that sometimes change is humiliating and painful, but you can never evolve, without abandoning all of it?

blue lock...are you

...are you finally back?

have you returned, prodigal son?

am I... am I coming back too...?

...

I don't know but God.

god please.

end this fucking arc.

I know you two can fucking do it.

and I need you to. and maybe it'll even be...good.

ugh.

I'm gonna be sick but...blue lock might be...it might actually be turning itself around...I'm not sure if my heart can handle this.

[chrisbitchtree]

There seemed to be interest in a part two of my little fic about Billy wearing short shorts to Family Video, which can be found here, so here you go!

***

For the first while, Billy had enjoyed the unseasonably hot weather. Being from California, he’d always been partial to warm weather, so he’d loved slipping back on shorts and tank tops in mid September.

Now though, the temperature had stopped going up and down, and it was early October and in the low 90s for the sixth straight day. It was made worse by the fact that he’d barely even started a long Saturday shift at the auto repair shop he’d picked up a job after the pool closed down for the summer. Already drenched in sweat, he was so fucking over it.

At least he had a night out in Chicago to look forward to at the end of the day. He was feeling flush just thinking about his date, and between that and the heat, he had to take a quick break to chug some water.

Just as Billy returned to the old, beat up car he was working on, trying to get himself in the right frame of mind for figuring out what the root cause of the grinding noises that the hunk of junk was making, Harrington drove into the parking lot, a dorky smile lighting up his face as he spotted Billy.

Billy put down the wrench he was holding and made his way over to Steve’s car as he parked it and cut the engine. “Hey, pretty boy,” he said by way of greeting. “What brings you here?”

“Well,” Steve replied, his smile growing wider, “I have a hot date tonight, in the city, and I want to make sure everything’s in tip top shape with my car before we head out.”

“Hot date, huh? Who’s the lucky lady?” Billy gave Steve a wolfish grin.

“Who says it’s a girl?” Steve laughed, winking.

“Certainly not me,” Billy replied. “Now about your car; it’s going to be a bit of a wait to get it looked at. We’re pretty busy today. Will that be a problem? You can wait inside the office. There’s air conditioning.”

“Oh no, no problem at all. I can’t start my night out until my date’s ready anyway.” With that, Steve stepped out of the car, and Billy noticed for the first time that Steve was wearing indecently short jean shorts.

“You’re wearing my shorts,” Billy managed to choke out, his throat suddenly dry.

“Well,” Steve said, looking down at himself. “You forgot to take them with you this morning when you snuck out of my house without even waking me up for a goodbye kiss. I figured I’d return them later, but I can give them back now if you’d like?” He started to reach for the button and Billy grabbed his wrist to stop him before he got reported for indecent exposure.

“You know, I think later will be ok. You could even wear them out tonight. I bet your date would love that.”

Steve snorted. “Did you forget this was a double date, Hargrove? The last thing I need is Robin and Heather making fun of me for that for the rest of my life. The shorts stay at home. I can wear them for you later if you want though.”

“Oh, I want,” Billy replied, pushing Steve towards the office before he did something dumb like kiss him in public. “I most definitely want.”

[emicczyk]

I think my favorite anime representing freedom is Gintama. (Before someone says something about AOT, in my opinion, Eren will never truly represent real freedom. Just false freedom he imagined for himself and his loved ones).

(Regarding One Piece that is amazing represention, i would love to write about it next time and show how beautiful it is in showing it)

When it comes to anime that represents the concept of freedom, Gintama stands out as a profound yet often overlooked masterpiece, it captures the nuanced, multifaceted essence of freedom in a way that is both unique and deeply human.

Freedom is subjective—its meaning varies from person to person. It’s not always about breaking physical chains or overthrowing oppressive regimes. It’s about finding the strength to live as you wish, embracing what makes you happy, and forging connections with those who make life worth living. Few characters embody this ideal as beautifully as Sakamoto Tatsuma.

Sakamoto’s story is a testament to resilience and the power of self-determination. Once a pacifist who chose to fight in the war against the Amanto, Sakamoto did so not out of obligation but from a deeply personal conviction. Even when his hand was permanently injured, rendering him incapable of wielding a sword—the very symbol of a samurai—he didn’t falter. Instead, he found another path. His dreams of freedom, not just for himself but for Earth and its people, became his guiding light.

Though he couldn’t fight conventionally, Sakamoto redefined what it meant to be a warrior. He took to the stars, becoming a diplomat and a merchant, using his charisma and ideals to build alliances and bring people together. His dream extended beyond borders, beyond Earth itself—his vision of freedom was boundless. To him, freedom was the ability to pursue his dreams without constraint, and he never let go of that.

Gintoki was his motivation, he found a reason, when Gintoki stayed on earth he could catch the stars, he wasn't alone.

What makes Sakamoto’s journey even more inspiring is his unwavering compassion. He didn’t just seek his own freedom; he made it his mission to liberate others. Whether it was freeing slaves and offering them a place in his crew or helping Mutsu break free from her past, Sakamoto consistently showed that freedom isn’t just an individual pursuit—it’s something we share with others. His relationship with Mutsu, in particular, is a beautiful example of how freedom can be transformative when extended to others.

Even after Earth was liberated from the Amanto, Sakamoto didn’t stop. For him, the stars represented endless possibilities. Earth, with its newfound peace, had become too small for his boundless dreams. Yet, he never forgot his friends or his roots, always ready to return and lend a hand when they needed him. His actions show that freedom isn’t about abandoning responsibilities or severing ties—it’s about staying true to your ideals while cherishing the bonds that matter.

Sakamoto isn't bound by a single nation allegiance, or cause, which exemplifies personal freedom that he reached, like he reached to the stars.

Gintama as a whole explores the interconnectedness of freedom and love. Gintoki, at the heart of the series, is a character who embodies this theme. He helps others find their freedom—whether it’s Kagura discovering a new life on Earth, Tsukuyo reclaiming her identity from the confines of Yoshiwara, or Kondo freeing Hijikata from his haunted past. In turn, these bonds give Gintoki his own sense of belonging. Without his friends—Kagura, Shinpachi, the Shinsengumi, Tsukuyo, Sakamoto, Katsura, and so many others—he wouldn’t have a home to return to. Gintama shows that freedom isn’t isolation; it’s the love and connection we find in the people who accept us for who we are.

At its core, freedom is about being true to yourself and pursuing the dreams that set your soul on fire. It’s about having people who support you and a place you can call home—a place you can return to when you need strength. Sakamoto, Gintoki, and the rest of the cast demonstrate that freedom isn’t a destination; it’s a journey, one enriched by love, laughter, and the bonds we form along the way.

It's about doing what makes u happy,

freedom of begin yourself,

freedom of having people you love,

freedom of having dreams and pursuing them.

True freedom is the courage to live authentically, surrounded by those who inspire and uplift you.

[galaxyedging]

Joel Miller x Jackson Librarian (no age gap)

Inspired by @tessa-quayle 's lovely comments.

Summary: Joel discovers how much joy writing can bring.

Warnings: a little angst wrapped in a fluff.

WC: 1.5k

The Joy of Writing

Joel holds his breath every time he sees her. 

The first time it was purely subconscious. He'd walked into the library of Jackson and caught a glimpse of her in the low winter sun filtering through the windows. She had been laughing at something one of the children said. Her eyes crinkled around the edges as if she had miraculously found decades of joy in the apocalypse. The tears in her eyes made them shine, although he would soon find out that they shone naturally. All the warmth in her pouring out of them. That warmth reached for them as she welcomed them.

The first time Ellie missed dinner, too lost in the pages of a book to care about her hunger, Joel was sent into a panic. Jackson had only been home for a few weeks, even the walls and the patrols, the reassurances of the community hadn't dulled the razor edge that he found himself on. He was still always balanced on it, ready for fight or flight, meanwhile it cut into him, in deep rooted anxiety. It was Tommy that had suggested they check the the library. Finding Ellie there should have helped but suddenly all his adrenaline had no where to go. He felt overwhelmed, he lashed out at Ellie and sent her home with Tommy with her ears ringing. The library was near closing so it was just the four of them. When Ellie and Tommy left, Joel was left in silence. The weight of his outburst crushing any hope he had of being worthy of her attention. 

"If you need a minute I can keep the place open? Raising teenagers can be rough. Or so my books say." She laughed awkwardly at her own joke.

The sound of it soothed him in a way he forgot that laughter could. It wasn't the boisterous laughter he shared with Ellie. It was something he hadn't heard in years. It was sweet and self conscious. Not many people were still able to freely show their vulnerability. Part of him related to it. He stood there with his heart in his mouth for more than one reason.

"Thank you. I'm sorry. I was worried. I shouldn't have come in here mouthing off like that." He forced himself to look her in the face for the first time since he'd barged in. God, she was beautiful. 

Eyes full of concern met his. "Don't worry about it. I should have sent her home. She just kept saying 'One more page'. I told her we do actually loan books but she said she likes it here." 

Joel looked over to the corner he'd found Ellie in, he took in the swirling galaxy painted on the wall and the planets hanging from the ceiling. "I can see why." A small smile broke through the tension in his face.

"You've done a great job with her. She's a great kid." Joel preened at her praise. "Would you take the book to her? Tell her, as long as it's okay with you, that she can read it here any time but I don't want her missing dinner."

From then on, if Ellie was missing for too long, Joel knew exactly where she was. The next time he held his breath taking in the way she looked at him, there was a question behind her bright eyes. She'd handed him some books. "I hope you don't mind. It's just something I do."

The books had been on parenting a teenager, anxiety, loss, and surprisingly, a joke book with a note saying 'To beat her at her own game.'

Joel returned most of them in a week. The anxiety one he kept for a while longer. That's where holding his breath when he saw her became second nature. When he needed to be in the moment he would take a breath, hold it, then let it out slowly. Every time he saw her he wanted to capture that moment. The moment his heart beat faster. The moment a smile bloomed on his lips just at the mere sight of her. 

Joel found himself taking the route through Jackson that passed by the window that she sat in when the library was quiet. He'd see her writing away. He often wondered what she was so engrossed in. He'd watch the joy that whatever it was brought to her face. A pang of envy in his chest at not being the one who was making her glow with happiness. Those little private glimpses of her kept him going in those early days. When everything he'd done for to save Ellie was still fresh in his mind. When any number of minute things in the day would remind him of what he had done. The simple moments in life that someone wouldn't experience again because of his hand. 

The hand that he now had clenched at his side to banish the memories so his moment with her wasn't tainted. Her eyes suddenly catching his shook him out of his rumination. With a bright smile, she beckoned him inside.

"Do you have a minute? I wanted to show you something I've been working on for Ellie." Joel followed her inside without hesitation. Anything he had to do could wait for her.

"Here." She held up a comic book for him. It was a Savage Starlight comic, one he hadn't seen before.

"Issue 15? Wait, did you make this?!" His jaw hung a little slack as he looked closer. It looked so much like the comics Ellie was obsessed with. Except, one of the characters, holding a space gun in one hand and flying the ship with another, was Ellie. 

He held his breath again, this time to hold back the swell of emotion he felt. He couldn't hold it back from creeping into his voice. "This is…she'll love it. You didn't have to go through all that trouble."

"Don't tell the other kids but she's kind of my favourite. Besides, I always do something special for their first birthday in Jackson."

"Birthday?" Joel's eyebrows shot up.

"It is tomorrow, isn't it? It was on the form for her library card. I know it's stupid but the kids love filling them out." After a moment she came back with Ellie's form.

Joel held it in his hands. "I didn't know. She's not…I'm not her father. I guess I never asked." Another thing he failed at.

"Well, that's okay. You know now. I'll make some rounds, get people involved. We can throw her a party here." Then her smile dulled as her tone grew serious. "And as for not being her father. I don't mean to overstep but just because you ain't blood doesn't mean you're not her father. Anyone can see how you two are together. Ellie thinks you hung the moon."

Joel still doesn't know to this day what possessed him to do what he did next but he's still thankful for it. As she turned away, suddenly embarrassed that she might have misspoke, he reached out and grabbed her hand. It was soft and delicate in his.

"Thank you." He spoke without looking at her. She spoke without words as she turned her hand in his to give it a squeeze.

Ellie adored her gift so much that Joel had to take it from her in the early hours just for her to get some sleep. 

From then on, when he'd walk past the library with his breath held, she would look for him. The latest page of Savage Starlight held up in her hand. The first comic had been pure fiction except for the feisty young girl that was added, that was pure Ellie. Over time the comic evolved, as do a lot of things in life. At Ellie's request more of real life was added. The feisty girl got a slightly grumpy protector to aid her on her adventures. The protector met an optimistic writer who documented their adventures to turn into a book. A book that became a love story as they fell deeply in love. 

In Joel's favourite comic there was a scene where the writer pretends not to notice how the protector stands to watch her write. She tries to ignore the way the protector looks at her when she's lost in the joy of her work. She pretends that it's just coincidence that she's in that particular spot at the same time each morning. She pretends that it doesn't make her heart race to have his attention. She pretends that she doesn't want anything more than to invite him inside. To do more to help heal him than send him books. To try to carefully restore him like she does her well worn books. 

Even after all these years, Joel still holds his breath when he sees her. When he first opens his eyes and the morning sun illuminates her in their bed. When he returns home after a long day, worn and heavy. When he catches her writing, lost in her joy, with a smile on her face. 

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse

[kikoesbonbon]

Characters : Kaveh, Alhaitham.

Mentioning : ?- sfw, Slightly ? words.

Themes : risqué? Dunno—

just need a little relief won't hurt... right?

....

Right?

(Bro wake up and choose expl—)

You need research material for your thesis assignment from your lecturer. The title of your research chosen by the lecturer is 'the influence and side effects of certain types of plants.' Quite easy? Oh no. It's also called college assignments. If it's wrong and the lecturer is not satisfied, just mark an x with a red marker along the edge of the sheet of paper. Just remembering it is enough to make you want to cry.

"It must be this way. I'm sure." Kaveh said adamantly. "The path you are on will always lead to disaster. Cut it out." Alhaitham said with a blunt response.

"I'm sorry, I often pass this way for research clients. Why don't you believe me?" Kaveh denied.

You turned your face backwards. You almost forgot that this time you were accompanied by two dendro vision holders. You scratched your cheek and chose to look at the map again while they were still busy arguing.

Why are they coming? you don't know either. You don't understand the situation which is why you are here now with them. "Oh, great. now we're lost." Alhaitham groaned in annoyance when they arrived in the middle of the forest with the road continuing in circles which actually made them return to their starting point.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I really believe in this path." Kaveh said when he felt Alhaitham's cynical gaze. "I still remember off the top of my head." while pointing at the scene in front of them.

"Out of your head in the sense of remembering or out of your head in the sense that your memory has left you? I'm sure we've circled the same place 3 times, Kaveh. Is that what you call out of your head?" Alhaitham said in a mocking tone.

"If you can do it, why don't you lead the way?" Kaveh protested.

You weren't bothered by the noise behind you, and chose to look at several plants that caught your attention around the tree trunk and the tree roots that were sticking out. You muttered with interest while taking notes in your notes and taking samples of the plants and taking photos at the same time.

"Let's just look at the positives. At least I found some plant samples that I needed." You said as you closed your notes.

"Yeah, look at the positives." Kaveh answered with a pose of folding his arms with one eye closed as a sign of mockery. "At least there's no need to whine because this isn't in the desert."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes again. "At least our getting lost was a little useful to them this time. You're just lucky." Alhaitham prefers to return to your place of origin which is busy storing plant samples in your bag.

"Need help?" Kaveh raised an eyebrow when he heard Alhaitham offer you help. "Oh please, don't you act like you're trying to help people." Kaveh insulted.

"No need, I can do it myself-" Alhaitham ignored your words and immediately took the sling bag from your hand. "...thank you then." You said at last. "No need to mind. Let's go." Alhaitham said while carrying your bag. You looked at his muscular muscles with a watados look with a little 'ajwkwks' in your heart. 'Idiot, I'm going doki-doki, oh god damn it.'

"Yeah..." you said as you took your map which had marked the road. Kaveh instead leads you back to the front road.

"Need another plant? Oh, yes. This way. I still remember." he said excitedly.

"Kaveh— oi! That's not the path we want to take." You tried to reprimand Kaveh who had gone first. "That idiot, he never gives up." Alhaitham said in an annoyed tone. "Oh, please. We'd better catch him first before he gets bitten by Spinocrocodile." You said in a resigned tone.

"Oh, great." Alhaitham closed his eyes while grunting in defeat. The two of you finally caught up with Kaveh who had been walking ahead.

"What is this place? It feels familiar but something is different." Kaveh spoke after a second of silence. The only difference is a flower that grows alone among other plants. You rethink the reading about plants in your head. The plant- "You guys, cover your noses. The plant-" a gust of wind hits your face making the strange plant sway with the wind scattering strange powder around you.

Too late, Kaveh suddenly clutched his throat while coughing, while Alhaitham gripped tightly the strap of the sling bag he was carrying while bent over, gasping for air. You looked behind you still covering your mouth and nose. Kaveh and Alhaitham who were bathed in flower pollen were shaking on their knees. "Damn... my body... feels hot..."

'...Omg, I fuck up.'

"You guys, don't breathe the air for too long. The effects will get worse!" You were forced to take them both out of there and take them to the nearest campsite.

Among the three, only the two dendro vision holders were affected by the plant. "The condition is too bad now. My body is not getting better at all." Kaveh flicked his collar sultrily.

"We wouldn't be in this condition if you didn't decide to go your own way." Alhaitham let out a stifled sigh while coughing. His throat felt dry and raw.

You are looking for something to relieve the effects of the plant in your bag that you took from Alhaitham. "Here, try drink some water first." You hand over your drink to them.

Kaveh immediately took it from your hand and drank half of the bottle. "It doesn't work..." Kaveh wiped his lips. His head didn't feel good from the dizziness and lust that suddenly spread through his body.

You took your drink back from Kaveh's hand. "This is bad, with the preparations I brought earlier, none of them can be used in a situation like this..." You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at the drink that only had half left remaining.

Kaveh flinched at the touch of your fingers on the back of his hand when you took the drink from his hand. Strangely, he felt the need for the sensation of touch. A touch from someone. Kaveh made a whining sound when he called your name. "I... feel heat in my body. Can... can you please take off my clothes first?" Kaveh begged with a warm feeling spreading across his cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow "ok?" Thinking it might help him to relieve the effects of the heat, you decided to squat in front of him and slowly undress him. The tightness in Kaveh's neck is felt just by the touch of your slender fingers dancing across the fabric of his shirt, making the tightness between his legs throb. Maybe this is the effect of the plant.

Kaveh's hand impatiently touched your elbow and pulled towards him making you topple over between his throbbing legs. You let out a small yelps because you accidentally nudged his length with your knee. Kaveh grimaced slightly while apologizing. His fingers touched the skin of your hips between your clothes. " I'm sorry... I... need a little relief...

Before you mingth act, Kaveh moaned softly between your neck and rubbed your calf and your black stockings. "Mh... yes... you're so hot. Wearing tight stockings like that in front of me. You don't mean to tease me, right..."

"Wha— I didn't mean to..." Alhaitham, who had been in the same state of stimulation as Kaveh, saw you on Kaveh's lap with your knees spread between his hips. You felt the hungry gaze from Alhaitham's flat face but his sweaty face wanted the same touch from your skin, making your spine shiver.

You end up between the two sturdy chests of Dendro vision holders in a state of arousal that continues to fill your sensitive intimate area with their length, continuously making your eyes roll back, moaning in pain from the shaft of his cock. Alhaitham fucks you from behind, milking all the fluids around your tight intimate area with a state of sexual tension. Kaveh muffled your moans with his mouth on yours in a heavily aroused voice.

Bartholin's glands that just flow from force without stimulation make your core feel hot. There is only biting of your lips that can only hold both of them directly which continues to drill into your small core which cannot accept either of them. Kaveh grumbled in dissatisfaction between your necks continuing to search for more stimulation into your labia. "Mnh, make noise for me, girl.. come on." You, who were still cupping your lips, accidentally bit your tongue with your teeth, sticking it out while wincing in pain.

Alhaitham, whose mind was still foggy, noticed your tongue coming out sweetly, stuck out two fingers from behind and pressed your uvula until your mouth produced large amounts of your saliva and flowed down your chin. Kaveh desperately, licks your chin without leaving a single drop. "More..." he mumbled as he licked your neckline and bit it passionately.

You can only moan and groan feeling the direct stimulation and friction between your skin and react to the rubbing and rubbing of your body between them. Your response makes the tip of their genitals which are still in contact with you get a more stimulating response, making them both moan in pleasure and excitement. "Angh~ so close... just a little more... please..."

Your body arched and your breasts pressed against Kaveh's bare skin making him quite excited. Alhaitham grumbles and groans wildly while rubbing your chest line and picking at your breasts.

The flow of stimulation beyond the limits you can withstand can only beg to let you release the stimulation. "Not yet, naughty girl, I'm not finished yet. Oh.. gosh.. you have to take this risk. How tempting your body is all the time, even if you don't mean to tease with your body." Alhaitham said in a horny, dominant husky voice.

You whined about how much stimulation you received from the two men who still weren't satisfied.

Until finally they're on the edge, their backs and hips moving responsively from the overwhelming stimulation, the tip of their cock rubbing against your Bartholin's gland, whining for you to come. "Oh, my— m-mngh! come for me girl, I can feel it." The shaft of their genitals is pressed against your folds which throb with arousal as if asking them to fill you.

"A-ah! Yes..! Yes..! That's it.. ah.. you're so tight, mgh..! So kind and accepting of everything, good girl..!" For one final pull, you scream in pleasure as the stimulation releases and pulsates from your intimate body throughout your body. You grimaced embarrassedly and squeezed Kaveh's chest who still let you sit on his lap.

"Ugh...this...is way too intense...I'm sorry for not stopping you sooner, but—you two have to take responsibility for this." You groan in embarrassment.

Kaveh laughed as he caressed your cheek and kissed the top of your head. "Mnh..I'm sorry. We'll handle this for you." Alhaitham who is still leaning between your neck, inhaling the fragrance of your skin even though you are already sweaty from earlier.

"Oh, Alhaitham? Say you're sorry? The world must be in chaos right now?" Kaveh scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up." Alhaitham replied sarcastically.

Instead, you still feel confused about what to write for your thesis with the research results you have now. It is impossible to collect evidence for a thesis with results from field data like this. Because they said they will be responsible, so... you have the opportunity to ask them to help with your thesis because of this. If it wasn't for Kaveh who was the culprit.

#blamekaveh.

"Help me with my thesis."

"Okay../ fine.."

»»-----------fin-----------««

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

GWS I'm diying in bed as a result of writing this. 🗿☝️💧

Notes:

*Watados: innocent face.

*Doki-doki: pounding.

*'ajwkwks': implied scream of shame, feeling like your face is blushing even though it's not.

*I'm being random, m'sorry. 😔

[least-carpet]

Pursued by lesser ghosts 😭😭😭😭 are they gonna figure it out. Let JC in there

Hello, anon! Perhaps I will also link Pursued by Lesser Ghosts for context, since it took me so long to answer this ask. (You do need an AO3 account to read it.) It's wangxian with left zhanchengxian. Left in the sense that both chengxian and zhancheng had previously occurred, and they have left Jiang Cheng behind! (Sorry, I couldn't resist.)

In my heart, they figure it out, but I’m never going to write that because they are all in WILDLY different places and that would take... so long. This is partly what makes it interesting to rotate to me, because I think it’s a situation where the way any of the people involved would describe the facts in a relatively similar and nonchalant way, but their intellectual frameworks for the facts and emotional experience of the facts are so wildly disconnected that getting all three on the same page would be, uh, challenging. Rough character notes below.

Wei Wuxian:

Feels like JC should be mad at him, since he projects guilt about JYL already on to JC. additionally hates JFM’s treatment of JC but in total denial about both what the treatment means and how he feels about it. LWJ’s rejection and replacement of JC with WWX is going to trigger all of that BECAUSE it brings WWX's past understanding of JC into conflict with his current understanding of JC.

In the past, WWX’s JC feelings were positive; therefore any negative treatment by JFM had to be denied (and also Fixed by WWX).

WWX’s JC feelings are now negative, partly because of the projection and self-blame, and partly because of ongoing resentment about the core transfer (VERY traumatic plus the feeling like that degree of devotion and sacrifice was not reciprocated).

The emotional experience of REPLACING JC AGAIN is an experience that belongs to WWX’s childhood self, who loved JC and was extremely possessive and protective of him (the JZX beatdown was triggered finally by the insult about JC).

Also triggers memories of childhood > adulthood intimacies (some degree of sexual contact as teenagers that both of them “forgot about”).

WWX also terminally unable to leave shit alone, and now there’s a mystery about HIS HUSBAND and HIS SHIDI.

LWJ is just like “oh we had sex sometimes” but JC is a prude who doesn’t do that and only lets WWX touch him??? This is not a sufficient answer for WWX??? [meltdown]

CONFLICT CONFLICT CONFLICT KABOOM

Jiang Cheng:

I mean, Mr. Abandonment and Betrayal Issues got some feedback about what had happened, and that feedback was “it was duty, I never loved you like you loved me, let me go” (WWX) PLUS “now that the person who is better than you, who I really love, is here, I will replace you with him and never look back because you are Bad” (LWJ).

On one hand, closure! On the other hand, what if every childhood belief and fear about yourself all came true at once? Wouldn't that be fun? (I mean, the ones which had not already happened and left most of your family dead.)

Like he worked so hard to be good for love (root of childhood issues -> “if I am very good maybe dad will love me eventually and mom will finally be happy”) and this functions as proof that it has NEVER culminated in that love being returned.

I also don’t know how much he was aware of LWJ’s fixation on WWX before/during the time they were sleeping together. how blindsided he feels would change depending on that.

Also will blame himself for it (see childhood coping mechanisms… so abandonment by LWJ is “his fault” because he “should have expected it”).

He is. He is not doing so good. Genuinely bad to contemplate and I don’t know how you fix that, like, degree of damage.

He also Never Gives Up and JL is still alive so he’s not going to kill himself but like. it ain’t good.

Lan Wangji:

To me, this is the chewiest problem. Because he has these rigid categories of “good” and “bad” but is also missing a lot of information about what happened between JC and WWX (such as the fake fight/removal from the sect), he's made up his mind but it's based on incomplete information.

Also like, he's not particularly empathetic (so questions like “how would you feel if someone you unconditionally trusted accidentally killed your beloved sibling?” are ones he has perhaps never contemplated?)

IMO this intersects in a pretty ugly way with his canon sadism during the period he has a sexual relationship with JC. I would have to make some decisions about how bad that was, but I don’t think it’s good. I think JC goes along with it partly as a form of self-harm and partly because JC is under a lot of stress, touch-starved, and is genuinely pretty submissive in bed? But has no standards about it (healthy!) and doesn't know how to protect himself.

Initially this is fine to LWJ because it “doesn’t count” and “JC is bad” so LWJ doesn’t have to feel bad about how he treats JC.

But if it was a multi-year intermittent thing, I think that might change? Because I don’t think LWJ is actually that cruel, just inflexible and not great at people.

So they hook up semi-often and LWJ perceives JC worrying about JL, about YMJ, and to some degree about him (offers him salve for his scars, inquires semi-rudely about family, feeds him thoughtful vegetarian foods when around each other) and they get comfortable and sometimes they spend the night together and LWJ gets a lot less mean but not any better at talking…

But even as their behaviours change, LWJ’s mental model doesn’t, so when WWX returns, he just, like, ditches JC without any discussion whatsoever.

And he gets everything he thought he wanted!! And he’s happy about a lot of it but feels Weird in a way that he can’t articulate or explain.

So to get him to the throuple, his whole understanding of what they were doing with each other and what JC’s behaviour signified would have to change. On the other hand, he is now married to the nosiest and most determined man in the world and that man is going to ask him a LOT of questions.

He just has SO far to go. I think both WWX and JC at least understand that a loss happened, but LWJ hasn’t worked that out yet. He's feeling it, but hasn't been able to articulate it to himself because of how it conflicts with his beliefs.

So getting them all to kiss would be really hard work. I think they do, though!

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | one.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering

chapter word count: 3747

a/n: chapter one of our sequel! yessssss! (side note: forgot to add my taglist for the entirety of a court of ash and smoke, so we're back with the taglist for the sequel lol) for this series i will be posting if and when chapters are ready rather than on a schedule (i'm moving across the world this month so keeping up with a schedule is going to be hard)

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Missing

Hands caressed bodies. Some falling to the hair of the other, tangling and twisting at the roots. Some pressed against chests, rising and falling with laboured breathing. Some travelling down, past the point of no return, to where each of you needed it the most. His lips were on my neck, sucking at that spot just under your ear that made your head fall back in pleasure, made your toes curl in anticipation.

“I missed you so much,” he said as his lips traced lower, over your collarbone, nipping slightly at the skin there, down past the crevice between your breasts, turning to pull each nipple into his mouth. The only sounds that you could form were breathy moans, whispers of his name, a pleading to show you just how much he had missed you.

A hand pressed down over your dripping heat, the heel of his palm pressing fervently to that spot that caused you to shudder irrationally. Then a finger was dipping inside, bringing with it a wave of pleasure unlike any you had experienced before. Time made the heart grow fonder, and distance made the pleasure grow stronger.

“How perfect you are,” he whispered against your skin, breath hot as lips caught with each movement of his hand inside you. “How perfectly made, just for me.”

Because you had been made for him. And he for you.

His fingers disappeared, and you whined at the loss. Until, that is, you felt his tip nudge against you, gathering your wetness. His forehead pressed against yours, and as he pushed in, the pure euphoric bliss almost overwhelming, you allowed your eyes to open. They caught his in a second, and you didn’t let them go. You watched every ounce of pleasure that etched itself into the colour of his eyes.

One russet. One golden.

“Never leave me again,” he said, voice almost breaking.

“I will never leave you,” was your reply. And you knew that was the truth.

“I love you,” he huffed out, close to a beg, as if he were pleading for you to accept it, to let him love you. Little did he know that you had accepted it a long time ago with open arms. “My mate.”

His mate.

Your mate.

You woke with a start, so fast that you could barely grasp your surroundings. Your skin was hot, clammy and sweaty, and there was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, one that you doubted could be doused in any kind of water.

There was only one way to put out those flames, to dull them to nothing more than embers. Only one person. But he wasn’t there, he never was. That dream wasn’t real, a monstrous lie told by your own traitorous mind to keep you from going crazy. From losing it entirely. Your mattress was cold, your bed empty, and your heart aching for that one soul that you couldn’t see.

The door swung itself open, revealing the High Lord of the Night Court himself leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. “Again?” He asked. You could do nought but nod, running a hand through your sweat-drenched hair. He meandered inside, closing the door behind him, and perched on the end of your bed. He could no doubt scent the arousal in the air, but he didn’t comment on it - he never did. That was an unspoken rule between you.

He mourned the curse-breaker. You mourned the emissary. And you did so, each and every night, in each other’s company. You never spoke of it, never discussed the things that hunted your nightmares or his, but you were there for each other when the ones you both really wanted could not be. So you would sit, curled up in front of the fire, tea appearing before you as a courtesy of the very house that you lived in. And you would wallow in silence.

Dreaming of your mates.

Fate was a fickle thing.

You had never been one to believe in fate. For as long as you could remember you had scoffed at the idea that there was some higher power setting out a plan for your life. You preferred the idea that the things that happened to you were the outcome of a butterfly effect; that a decision you had made, however long ago, had led you to that particular moment, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn’t fate leading you there; it wasn’t the Cauldron or the Mother making those decisions on your behalf. It was you. Your strength. Your determination. Your courage. Your conscious choices.

Although you knew that choice wasn’t something that everyone was granted without hesitation. You weren’t given the choice to become High Fae. You weren’t given the choice to keep these powers. And you weren’t given the choice to have Lucien as your mate, although you would have chosen him regardless.

Even as a child you clung to the belief that your life was solely controlled by you. But that had been before, when you were mortal, naïve, and had thought the span of your world lay within the confines of your family’s estate in the Mortal Lands. When you’d assumed that the farthest you would ever go would be the village market, that you would never venture past the Wall, and that the male you cared for the most would be that of your blood brother, Arleon.

You knew better now.

How strange, how quickly things can change.

You could only assume that it hadn’t been your own decisions that had ultimately led you to where you were. You could only hope. Because the idea that every step you had been forced to take, every path you had been pushed to follow, was somehow due to something you had done, was all-but sickening to you.

Every life lost. Every battle fought in that cold, cavernous mountain. Every memory that haunted your each and every waking moment.

Every dream of him.

But that was the thing, you supposed; it had been worth it, you were certain of that. Whether it had been fate, or the will of the Cauldron and the Mother, or your own choices alone, those steps had brought you here, to Velaris. They had found you Feyre, had taken you to Prythain in the first place. And they had united you with Lucien, even if he was not so very far away.

It was all worth it.

Weeks had passed since Rhysand had first brought you there. The Night Court had been nothing at all as you had been expecting. When you had pictured torture chambers, instead sat plush bedrooms and studies and libraries. Where you had imagined the streets run red with the blood of victims, you had alternatively found cobblestone streets where the laughter of children bounced and echoed from the walls. It all seemed so lively. No bloodshed. No pain. Just pure, undiluted happiness radiating from the very streets of this city. How wrong those rumours in the Spring Court had been.

You had found yourself feeling strangely at home there, and you were certain that it wasn’t solely because of the city itself, but rather because of the people that you had found yourself surrounded with there. The Inner Circle of Rhysand’s court, his brothers, his cousin, and that terrifying black-haired female, had all welcomed you, regardless of where you had come from, and who your brother was.

Tamlin. You would have been lying if you said his name hadn’t crossed your mind on more than one occasion since your arrival there. You wondered if he might have been looking for you, if he knew who had taken you in the first place, if he had worked out that you had come willingly. That you had wanted to leave him behind. It was the least that he had deserved.

Perhaps Lucien had told him of your letter. No, surely Lucien wouldn’t do such a thing, not when that letter had been for his eyes and his eyes only. You hadn’t felt the need to include that; you knew all too well that he would understand the implication without it needing to be explained.

Lucien. Cauldron, how you missed him. Your entire body ached for him, for his touch. Each and every night he would visit you, and his hands would caress your body, his lips would brush against your skin, and everything would feel so right once more. Until you woke up, that is, and realised that it had all been in your head. That bond inside you, the one that was still entirely one-sided, that tied you to him, drew you back to him, to find him and never leave his side again. But you knew that you couldn’t. Not until you knew that you were no longer a threat to him, and for that you would risk missing those days with him. For that you would risk him falling back into resentment against you for leaving. You would never hurt him, even if it meant he hated you for it.

Your training had been going well. Each and every morning was spent in the ring at the House of Wind going over your manoeuvres with Cassian, who seemed more than impressed by how much you had already managed to grasp in the short time that you had been training. You cited Silas - your teacher - as the sole reason for that, although Cassian had been quick to shoot down the idea.

“Nah, that’s all you,” he had said, thumping you hard on the shoulder. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but rough that it left a lingering pain.

Your afternoons were usually spent with Rhys going over the training of your powers. Even in just the few short weeks that you had been practising, you had already managed to get a grip on how to swell and shrink your power if and when you needed it - to bring it to the forefront and hide it away to lie in wait, only at your non-verbal command. Loosely was the optimal word, however; you still hadn’t quite perfected it just yet.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rhys’ crooning tone sounded from behind you. He had found you in the spot that you seemed to have taken residence in more than anywhere else during those first weeks. The very corner of the balcony where you had spotted your first glimpse of Velaris, where the stone met at a point, providing you with the perfect place to lean into and simply look out upon the city that so few dared to venture into. Rhysand copied your stance, bringing his forearms up to rest against the stone of the railing, clasping his hands together, violet gaze trained on you. “You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I’m never not thinking about him,” you admitted, refusing to meet his stare for fear that, should you see those eyes filled with a knowing sympathy, the very walls that you had built to keep yourself guarded might crumble, leaving you a weeping mess at his feet. You hadn’t divulged to him that Lucien was your mate - hadn’t even mentioned that you loved him - but Rhysand had garnered that there was at least something there, some sort of feeling that made you ache for him the way that you did.

“I know a little of what that feels like,” he said, his lips pulling into a sorrowful smile. And there you remained, as you had for so many nights, standing in silence, lonely but not alone, staring out across the city that he called home.

Mourning those you could not have.

The Spring Court had never felt so…empty. It bustled around Lucien at a never-ending pace, preparations readying for what Ianthe had begun calling the wedding of the century. Everyone was in high spirits - even Tamlin, to a degree. That stoic demeanour was still just as it had been on the day Y/N had left, yet there was a glimmer in his eye at the thought of what lay ahead. A lifetime with the female he loved.

Lucien couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that ricocheted through him at the very idea.

Feyre, he had noticed, seemed to be the only person who wasn’t excited for the upcoming nuptials. Well, the only person besides himself. She had closed herself off, more so with Y/N’s departure to the Night Court. It had left her with no one, not really. She had Tamlin, and his arduous mood swings, and Ianthe who seemed to be trying to paint her into the portrait of an obedient High Lord’s wife. And she had him, but he couldn’t deny that his heart simply wasn’t in it anymore.

There was no more teasing from him, no more humoured lilt in his tone when he spoke to her. He too, it would seem, had become closed off since Y/N had left, for a different reason, of course.

Because his heart longed to be with her, to be near her, and no matter what distractions he might find for himself - training with Silas and the sentinels, or heading out on hunts, or lending a hand to Tamlin with the court’s paperwork - that need for her never dissipated. It was always there, bubbling under the surface.

Tamlin hadn’t given up searching for her. Sentinels had scoured every inch of the Spring Court in search of anything, and Lucien himself had been sent to damn-near every court in the hopes of retrieving her safely, or of at least finding a clue as to where she might actually be. Lucien knew, of course, although he wouldn’t share that information with his High Lord. He knew for certain that it was Rhysand and his Night Court goons who had ‘supposedly’ stolen her away in the night. Tamlin knew that too, although he was woe to believe it; he had scented that male in her room that night, and had pieced the puzzle together. Silas had even said as much, having stated with such conviction that it had been them. But Tamlin knew better than to go storming into the Night Court and risk starting an all-out war between courts without proof that she was even there, and Lucien was doing everything he could to make sure that didn’t happen.

And so, it remained, Y/N in the Night Court, Lucien in the Spring Court; two lovers trapped miles, and multiple courts and territories apart. Tamlin continued scouring every book that held any information about the laws of Prythian, and still sent his sentinels out in search of clues. Lucien kept his friend distracted from invading Night Court lands, did his best to keep Tamlin focused on the Spring Court and Feyre and the upcoming wedding. And the best that he was able to do was dream of her, to think of her when he closed his eyes, and to imagine that she was there by his side.

He felt her in every Spring breeze blowing the scent of jasmine and lavender from the gardens; her scent. He felt her in every kiss of sunlight that fell against his skin as warm as her lips, every click of blade against blade when he sparred with the sentinels. In the birds that chirped that reminded him of that night Under the Mountain when they had stared out of that little window in his chambers for hours. In every smile that he saw plastered onto the faces of passing village fae, beaming and glowing and beautiful.

He felt her everywhere, except beside him.

“That was good,” Rhys said with a small chuckle. “Although next time, please try not to go for my face. You nearly took my head off.”

You rolled your eyes and unwrapped your legs from their seated position. You had been at it for hours, trying to get your powers to reveal themselves in a non-threatening way. Rhys had said that this was the obvious next step - to learn how to let them out, to breathe, even when there wasn’t a threat. Until now, it would seem that anytime you let your powers out, they would immediately lunge for whomever else was present, as if their sole reasoning for being was to kill. And all of your previous lessons had forced Rhys to place a protection shield around himself. But now, it would seem, he was willing to take the risk. Perhaps he trusted you enough now to not let them hurt him. You weren’t sure you trusted yourself with that though. Until that point, the only person that the red smoke hadn’t tried to harm was you.

You had been perched on the rooftop of the House of Wind, away from any civilisation that may have been caught in any destruction your power might have made should it not go to plan, for what seemed like forever. Every ticking second only stood to remind you of how little you really knew or understood of these powers, and how little you were able to control them. They had already lunged for Rhysand well over ten times, and you could only assume that they would try again.

“It’s not working,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself to protect from the sharp chill of the mountaintop. “It’s pointless. I’m never going to be able to control these fucking powers.”

Rhys frowned. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. These powers that you have are strong, and the way that you’re able to wield them already, to let them out and reel them back in on command, is already showing a lot of restraint.”

“Not enough. They still try to kill you every time.”

Rhys sighed, rising to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, allowing his shoulders to shrug ever-so-slightly. “We’ve not been doing this for long. You need to have patience.”

“Because it’s not going to happen overnight, right?” You scoffed, echoing the words that he had told you countless times already, spinning on your heel to look back at him. His lips went thin in what you could only assume was pity.

“Exactly,” he affirmed. “You think I was able to control my powers immediately? No, it took me centuries to get this kind of grip on them, and even still, there are aspects that I haven’t perfected.”

You winced. Centuries. Centuries away from Lucien. You weren’t sure you could make it that long without him. You were sure you would go mad from want long before that. “I just feel…useless,” you admitted, kicking at the snow on the rooftop with the toe of your boot. Rhysand sighed once more, moving to clap a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re definitely not useless,” he said quietly. “Have more trust in yourself than that. I know that you’re eager to get it right, but don’t push yourself.”

“What would you suggest instead?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, turning and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back toward the door. You relished in the warmth that his arm provided; it seemed any training that you had been doing was finished, for now.

“Patience,” he said again. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, watched the way your shoulders slumped, and your breath clouded in front of you as you exhaled deeply. “I have to admit, these few weeks I’ve been watching you train, I’ve noticed some similarities between your powers and Azriel’s shadows. They’re not the same, far from it, but they act in a similar way. Maybe he could be of some help to us.”

The only thing you could do was nod.

Patience. You had to be patient. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how long that patience could last.

It was quite a scene, really, that Lucien had stumbled across. He rarely found himself in the rose garden - preferred to leave it as a place for Tamlin, a place where he could feel closer to his mother. But for some reason, in the weeks since Y/N had left, he had found himself drawn to that little rose garden, the flowers that bloomed there year-round reminding him of her. Of the rose he had gifted her for Solstice that had been more of a jibe against her than a real gift.

He regretted that now.

But as he wandered the gravelled path, the little stones crunching and sinking beneath each step of his boots, his eyes fell on Feyre. Her familiar haunch was perched on the edge of one of the stone benches. Lucien couldn’t deny in that moment that she looked rather angelic - golden-brown hair amidst blood-red roses. The scene would be like that of one of the paintings that Feyre loved so much, if it hadn’t been for her ghostly pale skin, paper-like from endless days trapped in the house.

As he grew closer, he noticed that she held a rose in her hand, twirling it between her fingers. Each thorn was gone, ripped from the stem with what he thought looked like almost angry intent.

He cleared his throat, and she looked up, catching his eye in surprise.

“Didn’t think I’d find you out here,” he said, finally coming to a stop at the bench and taking a seat beside her, stretching his legs out straight against the gravel.

“I could say the same thing,” she muttered with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She drew in a sigh, turning away from him and glancing back down to the rose in her hand, to the way it twirled, the sunlight bouncing off each petal. “I wish Y/N was here.”

Lucien blinked slowly. “Me too.”

“She loves you. You know?” Her words were so quiet, almost a whisper, barely audible above the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves above. Lucien wondered, for a second, if the words were being uttered without her permission or forethought.

“I know,” he replied as gently as he could.

“She’s lucky.” He watched as Feyre tossed the rose back into the bush, turning in her seat to stare at him intently. “Don’t let her forget how important she is.”

Lucien opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance, she was rising to her feet and floating back down the gravel toward the manor in eerie silence.

Lucien didn’t stop her.

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove |

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 6: Aurelius the Devoted

Summary: Introducing Nacht as Aurelius, the butler with a dark heart which he devotes to his master. Genre: general Word count: ~1000 A/N: Artwork was done by @cringeyvanillamilk.

..........

Nacht glared at his reflection, specifically the dark roots that were beginning to show in great contrast to the pristine white he was so proud to have achieved.

“Looks like it’s time for a touch up,” he said to himself with a huff.

The worst part about bleaching his hair used to be the smell of the chemicals. But nowadays, Nacht was most annoyed by the process of applying the bleach by himself. He used to have someone—two someones—to help him but going to them for anything wasn’t something Nacht could bring himself to do.

Nacht’s favorite music blared as he combed through his hair and applied the bleach mixture to his roots. Even with the days of jamming with a ragtag band behind him, Nacht’s hands still knew the right hand positions to play the chords he heard and his voice matched the vocals easily. He never forgot how to let himself be carried away by music.

The hectic rhythm of a song was cut off by a mechanical chime. Knowing what it meant, Nacht let the phone ring until the other end was sent to voicemail.

[Hello again, brother! I see you’re still not picking up. It’s okay. I know how you are.] Morgen’s voice was warm. [Anyways, I’m calling to let you know that I’m doing well. We both are. We miss you, too. Our lives have changed drastically but that doesn’t mean we have to go our separate ways. We want to be there for you just like how you’ve been there for us.]

Nacht grit his teeth as he listened. As glad as he was to hear from Morgen, it also made his stomach churn knowing that his brother was trying to maintain contact after… everything.

[Take care of yourself, Nacht.] An affectionate voice spoke, making Nacht’s heart ache. [I can’t wait to see you again.]

Even if she wanted to, Nacht didn’t deserve to see her or Morgen.

…..

Nacht strode across the cafe floor, eyes dead set on the table he was to serve. It was a pair, a woman with unruly red hair and a man with the tips of his brown bangs dyed green. He saw a busser chatting with them, likely after refilling their drinks.

His honest feelings on the situation were of apathy. The customers were being helped and that’s what mattered. But as per the role he played, he knew he had to put on a show when he arrived. 

“What do you think you’re doing, speaking with my masters?” Nacht asked in a cold voice once he was behind the busser. He saw the other man bristle at the sound of his voice. “Are you trying to take my place?”

“Aha… N-nothing like that Aurelius,” the guy squawked. “I’ll, uh, be going.” And off he went, with Nacht sending a glare after him.

After a sigh, Nacht said in a tender voice, “My good masters, I’ve brought your meals as ordered.” He set the dishes in front of the customers before continuing. “If I may, as your humble servant, I have a request.”

“Huh? What kind?” the brunet man asked.

At that prompting, Nacht lowered himself onto one knee.

“I am here to serve you forevermore. It would destroy me if you didn’t accept all I have to offer,” Nacht said with his hand over his heart and a practiced look of heartbreak on his face. “So I beg, you need not return my adoration but don’t turn me away. Allow me to stay close to you until the end of my days.”

Nacht spoke, not to the customers seated before him. Instead, his heart directed the words to someone immeasurably precious to him.

Deep brown eyes that sparkled with affection. Umber hair which he yearned to comb his fingers through. A gentle smile which never failed to take Nacht’s breath away. She was everything to him. Yet she was out of his reach.

All Nacht could do was give empty declarations to strangers. It left people surprised and entertained, which was good for his job.

But it ultimately meant nothing to him.

…..

Black Soul Soup. Made with meats and spices cooked in vinegar water and squid ink for its color, the dish had a salty and sour flavor, making it an acquired taste.

The rest of the staff had grimaced in disgust and confusion when Nacht had proposed the dish. But it stuck since Secre liked the distinct flavor profile and it fit the archetype Nacht played.

Both were hard sells at the cafe. The eerie blackness of the soup and the sharp flavor put people off. Meanwhile, the trope of a yandere was niche at best. Not that Nacht minded. He didn’t wish for the attention or acceptance of the masses so a lack of it had no effect on him.

It went beyond his work persona, too. Nacht saw himself as someone tainted and unkind, who caused trouble more often than not. People kept their distance from Nacht instinctively, as if they could sense the danger he brought. He preferred it that way. And if anyone didn’t steer clear on their own, Nacht pushed them away.

Despite the peculiar nature of the dish, it wasn’t without its fans and there were customers who enjoyed the unhinged character of Aurelius.

As for Nacht, he wasn’t alone in life either. The circle of people close to him was small. Because the more people he allowed into his life, the more he had to fear for their sakes. Maybe if he didn’t care at all, he’d have nothing to worry about. But then he would have nothing to live for.

Nacht cared, as painful and as scary as it was, and he prayed that his devotion wouldn’t cause any more damage to his loved ones. He couldn’t know for sure though, not yet.

[fromtenthousandfeet]

https://www.tumblr.com/fromtenthousandfeet/762815872623624192/a-while-back-you-made-a-comment-in-passing-i?source=share

Hard to agree on the first paragraph cause everyone in BTS just accepted that jungkook is better than them and he deserves most and it's fine if they don't get things he gets (from the company I'm saying) ??? I get the constant "jungkook is golden maknae" or shit must have been rooted deep there but this mindset of yes he's better than me hence he it's fine if he gets more than me is really not it. U can't get ahead if you keep being fine with the bare minimum given to you when you know there's someone in ur group who has started just like you and with you yet he's getting more when you're the one who's giving them more money in less investment.

Many will disagree with me in this but yes currently jungkook is the best vocalist in BTS in the 4 vocalists. He suits that Western thing more vocally at least so he gets what he gets but the fk does that have anything to do with how that company should treat you? Like the company should promote each member in whatever community that can listen to their music more. Like RM's current music is not for ALL the current armys so they should promote it more to the group of people who listen to that type of music. Jm is Most popular in the west then fking promotes him there more idngaf what you're doing with jungkook in west but if jm has potential and people love him then he should be getting what he deserves from his company.

Idg what's with members and always be like "Oh yes he's the true popstar, he's better" like what's with this mindset? Jungkook hardly would compliment you back in return lol. It's more about the mindset of him being Better so he should get better as if they each don't deserve similar support from their label. Someone else deserves better than me can never be a good mindset when u have the potential.

I think i was going to add more things but now i forgot shsksgdkshsks

Adding another response to the pile.

My personal opinion is that Jungkook is not a better singer than Jimin. While he has more training and better technique, the quality of his tone and level of emotion he conveys do not match Jimin's. Jimin's voice is much more appealing to my western ears. It doesn't surprise me at all that he's more popular in the Americas.

I really wish we knew what went on behind the scenes. Are they really all fine with Jungkook being pushed with every tool and every penny HYBE has?

Speaking of RM. His marketing strategy needs to pivot towards attracting young male fans. He's never going to have a successful solo career if he has to count on ARMYs.