#i will stand by this till the end of time

[lana7779]

Thats right! And I will stand by my word that he's my precious meow meow darling and I'll defend him till the end of time! Mwah *forehead kiss* ✨️

behold!! my blorbo who’s canonically a middle aged traumatized man with several mental disorders, violence tendencies and a long list of committed crimes

[justmeinadaze]

November Rain Part 2 (Eddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: You have decided 😈 I'll release this now then :) Enjoy the angst and the cliffhanger! *dances away in an angsty fashion*.

Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer (Friend's Dad) Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy Kink, public-ish smut (quickie at work), FLUFF, Eddie really does love his daughter and is trying to be a better father. He also really cares about you which leads me to...

ANGST! Reader mentions that Eddie disappears for a bit and how it affects her (brief), mentions of worry when it comes to their relationship (both are aware they can only keep this hidden for so long which kind of fuels he choice at the end of this chapter), Eddie also kind of keeps his ex and marriage close to his chest (struggles to talk about it), we meet Paige's mom, Paige gets wasted and you take care of her, I think that's it. OH! Cliffhanger ending 😈 I LOVE YOU!

Word Count: 4608

Part 1/Donate to Me

2 weeks. 

It had been two weeks since you found out the man you had been intimate with was your roommate and friend’s father. Two weeks of silence even though you left him your phone number by his nightstand praying he’d call only to find out a few hours later that things were way more complicated than they should be. 

Two weeks of dreaming of his lips and hands roaming your skin while he whispered in your ear how beautiful you were. Two weeks of crying at night because you desperately missed the sound of his laugh and hated that life was so un-fucking-fair. 

Two weeks of misery. 

“I’m sorry, Paige.”, you murmured as you glared out the window. 

“Honey, it’s no problem. Your car was doomed to die sooner or later. I’m surprised it ran for as long as it has.”, your friend chuckles as she rubs your arm. “We’ll get through this, Y/N.”

Following the tow truck pulling your car, she lets out a heavy sigh as her head hangs seeing a face you both recognize as he steps out towards the vehicle and speaks with the driver before heading towards you both.

“What are you doing here? You’re normally off on Wednesdays.”, Paige growls as Eddie scans her over drying his hands on the rag from his back pocket.

“I’ve, um, been doing some overtime. What happened, sweetheart? Your car die?”

“No. My friend’s.”, she gestures towards you. 

Without looking your way, he nods and guides you both towards the garage before popping the hood.

“Go ahead and take a seat in the lobby. Y/N…was it? Can you stay and tell me what’s been going on with the vehicle?”

“Yeah, sure.”, you affirm, nodding towards Paige to assure her that you could handle yourself as she disappeared into the building. 

“Jesus Christ, I can already tell you this engine is shot.”, Eddie sighs as he leans under the hood. 

“Yeah, um, I’ve had it for years and it was my dads before that. It runs but sometimes if I go over a certain speed this part—”

“Careful!”, he shouts as he hastily grabs your hand before you can touch anything. 

Time seems to stop as his fingers connect with your skin. You didn’t realize how deeply you missed that feeling and when his eyes finally met yours you knew he felt it to.

“Don’t…don’t want you to get burned.”, Eddie mumbled as he let you go and turned back around. 

“I’ve been burned before.”, you sigh causing his head to hang. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“You’re right. I guess I don’t deserve an explanation or anything.”

His chocolate eyes glare your way before focusing on the parts in front of him once more. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, your fucking actions did.”, you growl. “I guess Paige was right about you.”

“Listen here, little girl.”, he grumbles as he stands up straight and points his finger at your chest. “You don’t know fucking anything about me or my family so I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Glaring his way, you take one step forward till the tip of his index was pressing hard into your skin. 

“You’re right, I don’t because you didn’t call and what you did fucking tell me was a lie.”

“I DIDN’T—“, he starts to shout before looking around, grabbing your wrist, and dragging you to an office in the back of the garage. “I didn’t lie.”

“You said you weren’t married.”

“I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

“Don’t play semantics with me!” As he starts to lift his hand to silence you, you shove his chest. “You said you were a boxer.”

“I AM a boxer.”, Eddie grunts with annoyance and as your eyes search his, you realize you’ve touched a nerve. 

“You made it sound like it was your career. You’re a fucking mechanic.”

“I’m working and training to make that my career. I work here to make money for my family.”

“That you left.”

The man steps towards closer till his nose is hover just above your own. 

“I said shut your fucking mouth. I love my daughter and I loved my wife before we separated. There are things Paige doesn’t know and I plan to keep it that way because what happened in our marriage should be between me and her mother. Even though she keeps dragging her into our business…”

Your gaze remains locked with his till a heavy sigh leaves your chest and an involuntary tear slides down your cheek. 

“You hurt me.”, your whisper causing his strong features to falter. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t even want to go on that stupid date but then I met you and we had a good time… I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. I hate that some of your cologne is still clinging to my fucking dress. I hate that I miss your lips and the way you made me feel—”

Abruptly, Eddie’s hands cupped your cheeks and his mouth crashed to yours. Your arms circled around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, your fists clenching around his dirty jumpsuit. 

“I’m sorry.”, he murmured when he pulled back enough to allow you both to get some air. “I never meant to hurt you… I liked being with you to, sweetheart, and not just sexually, but this is wrong.”

“I know, Daddy, I know.” At your words, a strong groan leaves his lips as his forehead rests against yours. “H-Have you been thinking about me to?”

You knew it wasn’t right but you couldn’t help dropping into that headspace. You had felt so vulnerable these last couple of weeks and he had been the only man in a long time to make you feel cared for. To have him in front of you after missing him so much was making you needy and the desperate energy that was radiating from him wasn’t helping. 

“Why do you think I’ve been working so much overtime?”, he chuckles. “I needed a distraction because every waking moment I miss your face. I dream about you, Y/N.”

As he continues to speak, your hips grind against his allowing the prominent dent below his waist graze along your panty covered core. 

“I can smell your perfume on my sheets. When I’m training, I picture you watching me like you did when I first saw you. Sometimes—shit—sometimes I imagine I’m punching that fucking idiot that hurt you.” Eddie smiles when a breathy laugh leaves your lips. “When I’m on my bike, I wish you were holding me like you did on the ride back to the gym. Jesus, any chance to feel you’re your sexy legs wrapped around me…”

“Like this?”, you ask, lifting one of your legs around his waist. 

At the action, his head falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder, pressing himself harder against you as he rubs his crotch against your center. 

“Ah my god, baby.”, he whispers causing you to shutter as you try to pull him closer to you. “Fuck this.”

At Eddie’s abrupt grunt of annoyance, he pulls away enough to unzip his jumpsuit and push it down just below his waist. Your eyes take in the beads of sweat that cling to his muscular arms and chest, ready and willing to lick it off his skin if he wanted. After moving your panties to the side, he maneuvered his hips till his cock slid a bit roughly into your entrance. 

“Mmph—so big, Daddy. I missed having you inside me…so deep.”

His large palm gripped the back of your thigh, pulling it high up his waist while his open mouth kisses along your throat had your eyes rolling. 

“J-Just like that, baby, please. I need your cum. Please, cum with me.”

Rolling his hips, Eddie repeatedly slammed into that spongy spot inside at you, leaving you a trembling mess as you clung your arms around his neck and smothered your whimper in his shoulder as you came. 

It didn’t take him long to follow as he groaned and his fingers dug into your skin as his release coated your insides.

Neither of you moved as you panted in each other’s embrace. 

“Edward Munson!?”

At the sound of his name, you half expected him to jump away from you and adjust himself but when fingers gripped you tighter you were surprised. 

“Who is that?”, you whisper calmly.

“My boss.”, he replies in an equally lower register.

“Should you get back out there?”

When he nods, you begin to lower your leg but he just holds you tighter as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. 

“I don’t want to let you go.”, Eddie murmurs into your skin. “If I do…the reality of our situation comes back and…I don’t want that, Y/N.”

Your fingers tenderly thread through his hair as you duck your head so your lips can kiss his. 

“I know, baby, I know. I don’t know what to do though.”

“Me either.”

“EDWARD MUNSON!”

“YEAH! I’m fucking coming! Give me a goddamn minute!”, he shouts before backing away from you and adjusting your outfit. “Maybe…maybe we can just be friends…at least. I miss your voice…”

“Ok.”

Your eyes lock with his after watching him tie the upper half of his jumpsuit around his waist. 

“Ok.” Turning around, he grabs some paper off the desk behind him and writes down his phone number. “Text or call if you need anything or just want to talk. I’ll reach out to you later about your car. It’s going to take longer than a night to fix. Do either of you need a ride?”

“Oh, um, no. Paige and I followed the tow truck in her car so we can take that home.”

“Oh, pfft, that’s right. My brain sometimes...”

“I understand.”, you smile as you start to walk away but his hand around your wrist tugs you back as his lips lightly kiss yours again. 

“I just wanted to taste you one last time.”

“One last time.”, you repeat before turning to leave.

***

There were many “last times” over the next couple of months. 

You two couldn’t stay away from each other for long but you knew this was wrong so after every intimate moment or night spent together, you promised this would be it. Especially since, according to Paige, Eddie was trying to be more in her life.

“I’m trying to let him in more but with the divorce hearing and everything, my mom is flipping her lid. My graduate school is doing that exhibit for art students and I want them both to go but I don’t want it to be thing.”

“I understand, honey. This is a big deal for you and your work is amazing. All the attention should be on you. The few times I’ve talked with your parents, they seem like they can keep it together for one night.”

“Hm.”, she sasses as she rolls her eyes making you laugh. “You’ll be there right?”

“Of course. I’m taking the night off to be there.”

“Good.”, she sighs as she leans her head on your shoulder. “You can help be my referee.”

You smiled and nodded but that was the absolute last thing you wanted to be.

***

The smell of rubber and sweat promptly hit you as soon as you open the gym door with the key Eddie gave you. He had already moved into his new apartment but the metalhead liked to come by after work and train as much as he could. 

They gym itself closed around 8pm but the owner seemed to trust this particular boxer, allowing him to come and go at will. When you found him, you could vaguely hear the metal music that was blasting from his headphones as he punched the bag in front of him. 

Eddie’s eyes were zeroed in on his target as he continued to follow one swing with another. Sauntering to his phone on the edge of the ring, you couldn’t help but take in the picture of him and a much younger Paige on his lockscreen as he kissed her cheek while she smiled at the camera. They both looked so happy. 

Pausing his music, he angrily turned before realizing it was you and his gaze immediately softened. 

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t expect you.”, panted as he removed his gloves and took out the earbuds. “Everything all right?”

With a half smile you flashed him his phone screen and he cautiously came over to sit beside you as he continued to try to get a read on what was going on inside your head. 

“I still remember when that was taken. Paige was about ten or eleven and the three of us went to a park to have fun. She lifted her arms in that boxing stance and took a couple of light swings.”, he chuckles. “That was a few months before I started training. I had mentioned to her how when I was her age I wanted to be a boxer. She encouraged me to try… I don’t know if she even remembers that after everything.”

“She’s worried about the exhibit this weekend. She’s afraid that you and your ex will fight and ruin a night that’s supposed to be about her.”

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut as he sighs and takes your hand in his. 

“I can understand why she would feel that way. My ex and I… I’ve tried so hard to…”, he stutters as he struggles to find the words. 

“I feel bad, Eddie.”, you whisper as his chocolate irises find yours. “She’s right. This should be about her but this is the first time I’m going to be in the same room with you two since my car broke down AND your ex, her mom, who I’ve met will be there…”

“Sweetheart, baby, come on. Everything’s going to be alright.”, he coos as he kisses your forehead. “Just be yourself and focus on Paige. I can handle the rest.”

############

“Calm down.”, you tease as you tug lightly on your roommate’s skirt as she dances in front of her artwork. 

“I’m calm! I’m calm. I’m just so excited.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie beamed as he sauntered towards Paige and reached down for a hug that she eagerly accepted. You knew she would be more open tonight because she was in such a good mood and the warmth that glowed from the metalhead as she wrapped her arms around him had you grinning from ear to ear. 

You liked seeing them both happy. 

“Hey there, Y/N.”, he greets politely as he tosses you a smile. “Geez, you both look gorgeous. I feel like I’m underdressed.”

Since you met him, you had never seen Eddie this dressed up and to you he looked as delicious as ever in his suit and tie with his hair pulled back out of his face. The man tried to control his eyes as they raked across you in your cute blue dress that rested just above your knees. 

“I think you look great, dad. Oh, there’s my professor. I’ll be right back! Y/N, show him my work.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as he watched her excitedly bounce away before focusing on her art hanging on the wall. 

“Paige was always a really talented artist.”, he muses as he absorbs the image in front of him. “I, uh, I guess I see now why you didn’t make the connection that we were related.”, the man murmurs sullenly as he gestures towards her signature.

Paige Davis

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”, you whisper back wishing desperately that you could hold him. 

As the night wore on, you remained next to your friend while her father roamed the area occasionally sneaking glances at you from afar. He absolutely adored what a caring friend you were to his daughter knowing that’s exactly what she needed with everything going on in her life. 

He always hated that his ex insisted on telling Paige everything going on in their divorce even more so that he knew she was purposely omitting truths to make him look like that asshole. Eddie could do the same if he wanted to but he refused to stoop that low and not just because it was wrong to pull her into that but because he also knew how much Paige loved her mother. He knew how important it was to have her in his daughter’s life after losing his own at such a young age so he chose to allow the narrative to continue even if that made him the bad guy. 

He just prayed you didn’t see him that way either. 

The boxer hated having to hide you knowing a beautiful woman like you deserved to be lavished and seen. 

But what could he do?

Not only were you his daughter’s friend but he was going through a messy divorce, in-between careers, barely had an income, and he’d be lying if he didn’t say the age difference made him feel slightly insecure. 

Eddie accepted the way things were at the moment but he knew it couldn’t stay that way forever. 

“Paige, honey, oh my god, this is amazing.”, her mom squealed as you watched them both hug. “Hey, Y/N, how are you? You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ms. Davis.”, you awkwardly smile as she leans down to hug you as well. 

“Now, who do I speak with to buy this gorgeous work of art?”

“Mom. My professor has to review it first along with all the others.”, Paige whines.

“I mean, obviously, you’ll get a good grade.”

The smell of his cologne hits you before your friend’s nervous eyes do. 

“You know maybe Dominick would like it in his living room so we can show it off you know? Oh, hey Edward.”, her mother coos in a syrupy tone that has even you wanting to roll your eyes. 

“Ava.”, Eddie greets. “How are you?”

“Great! Absolutely wonderful.”

As the night progresses, something changes. Paige, who had been spending most of the night in front of her artwork, had vanished and you promptly went on the hunt for her before finding her in a bathroom stall. 

“Paige? Oh my.”, you sass as you inhale the smell of liquor wafting from her lips when you open the door to check in. 

“Hey, Y/N! My bes fer-en.”, she slurs. 

“Ok, how much have you had, honey? Don’t you still need to talk to your professor?”

“Pfft, no. I done. Uh oh…”, she chuckles before throwing herself over the toilet to vomit.

“Alright, sweetie. You’re ok. Get it all out.”

“My-my mom invited her boyfr-en. I mean…I guess he’s not technically her boyfr-en…I don’t know. Ma dad is gonna be pissed.”, she giggles as you help her to her feet and guide her to the sink to wash her hands and face. 

“Let’s talk about that later. Like you said, tonight is supposed to be about you.”

“I don know why he be so angry. I think he has a girlfr-en or something. Plus, they haven’t been together for a year.”

You try to block out her words but it’s hard especially when you walk her out the door and are suddenly bombarded by the sound of yelling. 

“Tonight was supposed to be about her, Ava!”

“HEY! I’m only going to say this one more fucking time. Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that!”

“You don’t have any fucking say in this as far as I’m concerned! Now excuse me while I talk to the mother of my fucking child.”

“She’s not a child, Edward, and she doesn’t mind that I bring him. You’re the one that seems to be causing the problem and putting attention on yourself.”

“That’s right. Make me the fucking bad guy even though you’ve been parading him around in front of me the last couple of hours.”

The sound of your grunt as Paige collapses in your arms grabs their attention as all eyes turn your way. 

“I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry…she’s drunk. I was just trying to get her to my car…”

“No, um, no worries, Y/N, I can take her.”

As the other man steps forward, you spin your friend out of his grasp. 

“I know them. I don’t know you.”, you growl. “All I know is that you being here upset her so I’m not letting you touch her.”

“Dom, it’s ok, baby.”, she calls his way before glaring at Eddie. “This your fucking fault.”

“She didn’t want him here, Ava.”

“No, you don’t want him here.”, she hisses before taking her boyfriend’s hand and heading to their car. 

Angerly, he stalks your way and collects his daughter in his arms. 

“I’ll follow you to your place and help you get her in bed.”, he grumbles, buckling her in before heading for his motorcycle.

***

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room before.”, he sighs with a smile as he looks around at all your things.

After getting Paige in bed, he took the opportunity and followed you across the hall into your bedroom. Eddie took solace in the fact that you were a bit messy like him, taking note of all the clothes on the floor and your bed half made. You had posters of different movies as well as some of your friend’s artwork that he immediately recognized. 

You watch as he picks up random items on your dresser including your perfume that he inhales and smirks at the familiar scent. 

“My parents.”, you answer when he flashes you a photo in a frame. 

“You look like them.”

“Eddie, why does her boyfriend make you so jealous?” 

At your question, he sighs as he places the image back down and turns to face you leaning against the furniture. 

“I don’t know.”, he shrugs. “Maybe it’s because we aren’t even fucking divorced yet and she’s calling him her boyfriend while talking about him like he’s the love of her fucking life.”

“You two aren’t divorced and you’re fucking me.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

His large chocolate eyes meet yours before coming around and descending to his knees in front of you. 

“Y/N, I did everything and I mean EVERYTHING to make my marriage work. It was never enough. To her…I had failed as a husband and she was…is…going to whatever she can to punish me for that.” As your gaze shifts to the floor, his fingers quickly grab your chin to bring your focus back to him. “Talk to me.”

“I think…the reason it’s different is because she can parade him around and claim him. You can’t do that with me.”

“I want to.”, he whispers. “More than anything.”

“But…”

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N. It would fucking kill Paige if she found out but I know it’s killing you, sweetheart. You deserve to be seen and shown off.”

“Eddie…maybe, we—”

“Don’t. Please don’t say we should stop.”, he murmurs as his head falls into your lap and on impulse your hand comes up to run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to lose you, baby.”

Hearing your sniffles, he lifts his head and his palms cup your cheeks as he catches your tears with his thumbs. 

“No, princess, no. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here, baby girl. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Collecting you in his arms, you allow him to hold you as he continuous to whisper soft words of endearment and adoration. After a while, you allow him to undress you and make love to you; his palm clasped over your mouth to silence the screams that are on the edge of your tongue with every orgasm he pulls from you. 

“Can I stay? I promise I’ll leave as soon as the sun comes up.”, Eddie murmurs as he continues to trail gently pecks along your skin. “I just don’t want to let you go right now.”

You nod knowing “right now” will eventually come. You fall asleep in his arms and wake up alone but unlike other nights where you both had done this…this time kills you. 

#################

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he slams the phone a bit to roughly on the table in front of him. It had been a few days since he had heard from you and he was starting to get incredibly worried. Usually if you couldn’t talk, you would leave a little emoji or tell him you’d reply “ASAP” but since that night after his daughter’s exhibit, you would read his messages but never reply. 

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey…hey, Paige, sweetheart. It’s good to see you.”, he grins as he tries to hide his pain so he can enjoy lunch with his daughter. They rarely did this anymore and he savored every moment he got. “How are you? Tell me everything.”

One of the many traits she got from him was her gift of gab. Once she started talking, she could go on and on and Eddie loved it. He absorbed everything she said and laughed whenever she would make a little joke at her expense. 

“Ugh and then Y/N’s got her own bit of chaos.”

At the sound of your name, he tried not to let the concern show on his face as he casually replied, “Oh yeah? What’s going on with her?”

“I guess her and that boxer guy she liked split or something. She spent the last couple of days just completely broken and sobbing. We’ve had a lot of girl’s nights filled with ice cream and movies.”, she giggled before sighing as Eddie’s heart breaks. 

You hadn’t said you wanted to stop seeing him, not directly, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything to make you think he wanted your relationship to end. He cared about you very much and hated not being around you or hearing from you. 

“And of course, guess who calls like dog who can sense that she’s upset? Her fucking ex. Oh shit, dad! Are you ok?!”

Eddie hadn’t realized that while Paige was speaking, his grip around his glass had gotten tighter and tighter until she mentioned your ex causing it to break under his grasp. 

“Huh? Fuck. Yeah, I’m fine.”, he replies as he reaches for napkins to clean up the mess. “So did they get back together or what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She’s had dinner with him a couple of times but I don’t think they are. She said she wanted to go slow and hear what he had to say. I mean they were together for a while.” 

“Yeah…well, shit. Good for her, I guess.”, he seethes. 

“Yeah. I told her I was going to your match on Saturday with my boyfriend and that she should come so I can vet him. See what he’s up to but she seemed skeptical about going. Maybe she’s afraid the boxer guy will be there to. Do you know who he is? She’s never told me his name.”

“Uh, no I don’t but tell her they both should come. The more the merrier and if that boxer guy shows up, I can kick his ass. Maybe we can all have dinner together and I can help you vet him.” 

Paige laughs when he lightly taps her hand.

“Won’t it be weird? You’ll be like a fifth wheel.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I can find someone to bring along. If you’re ok with that, of course.”

“Ok! Sounds like a plan. This is going to be interesting.”

She had no idea.

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot @alphabetically-deranged @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @yesimabratandwhataboutot @idkwhattoputhere08 @gryffindorqueensworld @mewchiili @veemoon @heavenlyhorrors @twirls827 @jamiecb66 @chelebelletx @longpondlibrary @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @hellv1ra @utterlyinsanity

[captainsophiestark]

Worth The Risk

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Eight Prompt: "Just say what you want"

Summary: Jason's teammate has been trying to ask him out for a long time now, but he's always ducked the question before it's officially been asked. Now, it seems he's finally ready to talk about why.

Word Count: 1,955

Category: Fluff, little bit of Angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I'm telling you, Art, I'm starting to go a little crazy! He'll flirt with me all day long, but the minute I try to turn it into a date or a kiss or even a fucking conversation, he pulls back like he's been shocked!"

I could hear Artemis, one of my best friends, trying to stifle a laugh on the other end of the line. I narrowed my eyes, but didn't call her out on it. I had bigger problems right now, as far as I was concerned.

"Okay, when you say you've tried to turn it into a conversation...?"

"I mean I've gotten as far as 'so, Jason, I've been thinking' before he suddenly has a call coming in from Bruce or an urgent cramp in his leg or a super interesting bird outside the window that he has to go look at right now!"

This time, Artemis didn't bother trying to hold back her laugh. I scowled even though she couldn't see it.

Jason Todd and I had been friends for a while now, working together as vigilantes. We'd hit it off from the first time we met, and our relationship had always been a little flirty. More recently, though, it had felt on the verge of something more. And I wanted that. I liked Jason, a lot, and I wanted to see where we might be able to go, if he was interested too.

Most of the time, it did seem like he was interested. But for whatever reason, he kept pulling a 180 on me and defaulting to more platonic behavior than we'd ever had with each other any time I tried to bring it up. I'd decided to talk to Artemis about it, to see if she could give me any advice or anything, but so far she'd been absolutely no help.

"Alright, Art, I'm glad I've been able to entertain you tonight, but can you please-"

I stopped short at the sound of a knock on my door. I frowned. I hadn't ordered anything, and I wasn't expecting anyone. So who the hell was at my apartment?

"Hey, you still there? You alright?"

I hummed, standing from my seat in the kitchen and heading for the door.

"I'm fine. Somebody just knocked on my door, hold on."

I leaned forward to peer through the peep hole, and to my immense shock, I saw Jason Todd standing on my doormat. After a few moments of stunned silence, I finally managed a few words into the phone.

"Yeah, Art? I think I'm gonna have to call you back."

I hung up without waiting for her reply. I'd owe her an explanation later, but I knew she'd understand. Whatever this was about, it seemed pretty serious. Jason had never once shown up at my civilian residence, despite both knowing each other's identities.

I cleared my throat and stuck my phone in my pocket, trying to get a handle on the nerves that had suddenly exploded in my chest. After a moment, I couldn't stall anymore. I took a deep breath and opened the door to find Jason fidgeting almost as much as I was.

"Hey," I said, giving him a weak smile. "What's... what's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine," Jason said, glancing down and rubbing at the back of his neck. "I just... wanted to talk to you. About something. Didn't want to wait till the next time I saw you on the rooftops, hunting somebody down. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah! Of course, yeah. Come on in."

I took a quick step back from the door, holding it open for Jason and trying not to let him see my nerves. He walked through, but stopped in the entryway between the kitchen and the living room, looking a little lost. All I could do was stare at him for a moment as I shut the door. It was strange to see Jason in the middle of my civilian apartment like this, but it was also the kind of strange I could get used to.

"Here, take a seat," I said, heading to the kitchen and motioning towards one of the stools at the counter. "Can I get you a water or something?"

Jason cleared his throat, moving with me after a moment's delay.

"A water would be great, actually. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

I used the time it took me to get some water from the fridge, with my back turned to Jason, to take a few deep breaths. I was a vigilante, for god's sake, I knew how to keep myself from panicking in stressful situations. I wasn't going to let this impromtu visit unravel me.

I returned to Jason with a water for each of us, then sat down at the stool next to his. I was still a little nervous, but my heart had at least stopped pounding quite so quickly, and my hands weren't shaking when I set down the waters.

"So... you wanna tell me what's up?"

Jason cleared his throat, shifting in his seat before meeting my eyes. I gave him a little smile, and it seemed to help him relax, at least slightly. He smiled back.

"Listen... I really like spending time with you. And working with you and talking to you and... and everything. And Roy has been telling me he's sick of listening to me talk about you, so I'm taking his advice and coming to talk to you."

My heart did a backflip in my chest, but I refused to get too far ahead of myself. Jason still looked grim and stressed out of his mind, like he did when I tried to ask him out, which didn't exactly match the positive topic I was hoping this conversation might have.

"So... what are you saying?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. "Because it sounds like you're building up to one thing, but your tone and your body language is pointing to something very different. Are you trying to ask me on a date, or trying to tell me you're not interested."

"I'm not not interested," Jason responded quickly. I raised an eyebrow, but he looked more stressed than before.

"Okay... so then, what is it? Just say what you want, Jay."

Jason took a long, deep breath in, closing his eyes for a minute and apparently trying to get in the right headspace. When he finally opened his eyes again and met my gaze, he at least looked marginally calmer.

"I want to ask you out."

"...I feel like there's a but coming."

"...But... I don't know, I just feel like you should be fully informed. I'm not necesserily the most... stable potential partner. I'm still working through a lot of shit from before and after the Lazurus Pit, and I'm a regular letdown to my family. That whole experience... I think it broke something in me. And I've been trying to fix what it broke, but I'm not sure I can. I don't want you agreeing to a date or anything else without knowing exactly what you're getting into."

I frowned, which Jason seemed to take as an expected bad sign. His shoulders slumped a little, and he looked resigned. I shook my head.

"Jason... what the hell are you talking about?" Jason opened his mouth like he intended to speak, but I held up a hand to cut him off. "That was mostly a rhetorical question. Believe it or not, I've gotten to know you pretty well in the time we've spent together, working side by side in life and death situations and passing days upon days with each other. And frankly? I like you. A lot. If you hadn't sent up the signals for a hard no everytime I tried, I would've asked you out a long time ago."

Jason sighed. "I still feel like you don't know what you're getting into. I don't want to go down this road and have you end up regretting it and hating me."

"Okay," I said, letting out a sigh of my own. "First of all, let's clear something up. Not once have you disappointed me or let me down, not in all the time we've known each other and worked together, even though you've had plenty of opportunities. And Jay, I didn't know you as Robin. I don't know the old you that you're so intent on comparing yourself to. But the guy sitting in front of me right now? He refuses to see it, but he's a wonderful person and friend, and anyone would be lucky to date him."

Jason flushed and looked down at his lap, but I didn't stop.

"Second, if I ever hear Batman or another one of your family members calling you a disappointment, it's game over for them. I'm punching them in the mouth like they deserve, and that's the end of that."

Jason snorted, briefly picking his head up to give me a look. I grinned back at him.

"And third..." I let the smile fall from my face, adopting a serious expression instead as I gently reached out to take one of Jason's hands. To my delight, he let me. "Third, nobody knows how things're gonna go when they go on a date with somebody. There's no real predicting that, there's no garuntees that we'll be perfectly matched and instantly work out and never have trouble forever and ever. But I know you're a good person, and I love spending time with you, and I trust you with my life, and my heart likes to do a gymnastics routine whenever you're in the same room as me. So if you feel similarly about me, and you want to give it a shot...?"

Jason sighed, chewing on his lip for a moment as he stared at me. Finally, he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

"Good. Then that's that, Jay. There's no garuntees of anything, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. The only way to really lose is to let fear keep us from taking a shot at happiness, right?"

Jason shook his head, but he was smiling all the same as he took my other hand in his, too.

"I guess you do make a pretty convincing argument. But seriously, are you sure you want to do this? It... feels like it could lead to a lot of complications."

"Jason, I'm sure." I laughed. "Honestly, I have been for a long time now. Are you sure?"

I saw Jason take another bracing breath. Then he straightened, shoulders back, and gave me a genuine smile.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Great! Then what do you say we turn tonight into our first official date? I was just about to make dinner, and I've got some good movies we can pick from."

Jason's smile grew, taking on a little bit of an edge.

"That sounds perfect to me. As long as you promise to let me take you out for our second date. Somewhere nice."

"Believe it or not, that's not going to take too much convincing."

The two of us shared a smile again, and I gave Jason's hands a squeeze before standing and heading for the kitchen. He joined me, and when I stood at the counter to lay things out, Jason only hesitated for a second before coming up behind me to wrap his hands around my waist. He leaned in to place a soft kiss on my temple, and I leaned back, a smile on my face.

This time, my heart didn't do a backflip. Instead it radiated warmth through my chest and into the rest of my body. I knew we were at the beginning of our road, and there were no garuntees about what might be at the end of it. Still. I couldn't help having a good feeling.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @samreich @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[joffyworld]

Shamura -

They of Knowledge and War

It's hard to remember much these days.

Often it's impossible to remember anything at all,

To recall the finer details and find my way;

It's as if I've been entangled in a darkened red shawl:

I can see beyond the darkness in glimpses of authenticity,

I can reach past the madness and almost touch what has now been repealed.

But there remains a thin veil between myself and the truth;

It feels insurmountable as I fall into my minds' obscurity.

Godly ichor seeps out of the wound naught can yet heal,

I sit there and watch it drip down till they come with more news

Were my past machinations truly mine or those of fate?

It's increasingly difficult to make it back from the fall.

Do I deserve these conditions for living a life full of hate?

I know those who claim to be my siblings don't deserve a life that's so cruel.

Even if I recover what awaits? A world of stability?

Can such a world, with us in it, even be real?

Every day I awake is a veritable who's who.

Did the past-me ever imagine a life of such vulnerability?

Are these the consequences of taking actions guided with zeal?

I see strange faces come and go, they mutter "we love you"

When I gave the order, was I at all even phased?

It seems so out of character, so unusual.

They tell me it was desperation that changed how I behaved;

But would a God of Knowledge really resort to adding to the fire more fuel?

Was it just of us to punish curiosity?

Was it righteous of us to tell our brother to kneel?

It didn't feel correct to leave a sibling askew.

When we plunged the chains through his limbs in this violent atrocity,

Did any of us leave room to heal?

Or had we already broken through the time to heal and break through to you?

Now when I close my eyes I see a void-white gate,

Standing at the end of a long, dark hall.

Traversing the barrier I spy a long-hewn lake,

I bellow loudly to its occupant, but they never hear my call.

I see my voice extend, almost physically, with such velocity.

But it quickly recoils, and is brought to its heel.

It was you whom I had called to,

You, my brother the Lord of Death and magnanimity.

I remember once you heard my voice, I watched it make you reel,

I suppose the voice you least expect is that which has betrayed you.

As I heal slowly all that's left is to ruminate,

Reflect on the ways in which I failed my thrall.

It drives me ever closer to the madness that consumes and degenerates:

Across my mind does it sprawl, a slaughter-hall of the attentive and philosophical.

That which once saw every angle and possibility has ultimately been replaced by this vacant unpredictability.

The madness has caused my brain to slowly allow the crown to congeal.

The crown's influence spreads with its purple-hazed hue,

The cue to allow the crown to finally take responsibility, to be rid of the me that was me and become without humility,

I can feel myself slipping away, until all I can recall is the ordeal;

The ordeal that took you.

I remember walking up to those ivory arches and the cacophony of silence that followed. The wave of the trees from the wind, the exposed roots struggling against the combatant wind at every turn of their opponent.

I remember the darkness filling the air where once there stood nothing, blackened tar swirling with vitriol at every second it hung so loosely in our world. The almost viscous substance that materialised in an instant, and seemed so eager to disappear as quickly as it had come.

I remember the eyes that peered down and gazed upon the windows of my soul with unknowable intent. How they scanned every detail of my form, how they analyzed without repent every single finite piece of me as though I were a piece of discarded art, thrown away by its creator, then remembered and gazed upon once more for its flaws, not its graces.

For long there was silence, glares exchanged and stances readied. Longer still was the time that passed, every second felt an hour, every minute felt a day, yet little passed at all but a matter of minutes in the days stead.

Then it spoke, measured, calm, poised:

"Son of Sun, God of War, God of Knowledge that you are. We beseech you listen closely, for your foes they closely are. They tread and thread within your web so take caution when you spin. The conspiracy lies deep inside, and you are deep within. Illusions of your safety work vice versa with yourself. Take heart in what companions you trust deeply with your wealth. There lies only one within the five that you should dare to question. You mistrust and pray that that's enough but irony's your predilection. There will come a day where you will say, that you had known for better. You will dull the pain with maddened songs that tell of your grief's measure.

Make your choice, They of War, but pray caution when you move. It is time to right your wrongs,

Just make sure your wrongs don't right you."

[thepascalparadox]

Chapter two: Everything feels...

Word Count | 1.9k Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x OC F!Reader Chapter Warnings | slow burn, mention of the activities of the colisium, Acacius being a confused man. There'll be some author's note in the end. “From where I stood, the general was the most striking man I had ever laid eyes upon.” “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Vera. He looks... well, old and weary,” You said with a light tone.

“ I wouldn’t call him old. Word is, he hasn’t even seen thirty summers yet. And as for weary—he carries it as any soldier should” she replied with a grin.

Vera nudged your shoulder playfully, a gesture that spoke of the ease and familiarity between you. You feel tired and ready to take a good night of sleep—tomorrow would be a long day. Your father had planned a grand celebration in honor of General Marcus Acacius, with feasting and music from dawn till dusk.

Such celebrations always filled you with a peculiar joy. For at least one day, you could shed the weight of expectations, lose yourself in dancing and revelry, and be as free as any common citizen.

“Well,” You smirked, “tomorrow, you’ll have your chance to meet him. You could look into those famed eyes and say—”

Without hesitation, you took Vera by the waist, adopting a dramatic pose as if you were the general himself. Mocking the voice of a lady overcome with admiration, you declared: “General Marcus Acacius, you are the most handsome man I have ever beheld!”

Vera erupted into laughter, her mirth echoing through the room as your exaggerated performance ended.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · · The celebration began, and the day unfurled with a vivid splendor. Everything feels perfect. The music, the food, the flowers, even the way your dress touches your skin feels perfect. Hours passed in laughter and dance until your feet ached, and the cacophony of music and merriment became overwhelming. Seeking a quiet place, you slipped into the cool solitude of the back garden. The night’s breeze kissed your flushed cheeks, and the stillness wrapped around you like a gentle embrace. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. A soft laugh escaped you as you tried to recall the last time you had so much fun. No more wine for the night.

“I see the evening agrees with you, Lady Aurelia,” came a deep voice from behind, startling you from your reverie.

You turned quickly, your heart skipping a beat. There, standing tall under the pale light of the moon, was General Acacius himself.

“Dominus,” you greeted, offering a somewhat unsteady bow, made less graceful by the wine. “I—indeed—I am enjoying the festivities,” you added, a smile lingering on your lips despite yourself. You should definitely not be smiling like this alone with a man like him.

And yet, there was something about his presence that felt oddly reassuring, disarming even. To your surprise, his own lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

“The feast is remarkable,” he said, his tone warm with amusement. “Your father truly knows how to host a celebration worthy of the gods.” He paused, then added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Though I confess, after such a day, I long for nothing more than the embrace of my bed.”

The way he spoke, as if sharing a secret meant for you alone, made you chuckle softly. The conversation flowed easily as you strolled through the moonlit garden paths.

He humbly spoke of his long campaigns—two hundred days away from home, he said, with the weariness of a man who had seen much and yet carried it with quiet dignity. “If I could, I’d sleep for three days without stirring,” he mused.

Feigning seriousness, you teased: “So, you reject the grand festivities my father has arranged in your honor? Even the games in the arena tomorrow?”

He stopped abruptly, his expression turning grave. “Forgive me, Domina,” he said earnestly. “I meant no disrespect. Your father is as dear to me as my own. I would lay down my life for him. The celebrations are an honor beyond words. As for the arena—” He hesitated, his gaze shadowed. “I respect his traditions deeply.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how seriously he had taken your jest. Following Vera’s example from the night before, you nudged his shoulder lightly. “I was jesting, soldier,” you said with a grin.

But the moment the words left your lips, you faltered. Your familiarity had crossed a line, and you realized with a pang of regret that he was not a childhood friend to banter with so casually. Drawing back, you lowered your gaze, chastened.

“Forgive me, General,” you murmured, your voice tinged with shame. “The wine has loosened my tongue more than it should have. I fear I’ve overstepped my place.” With a hurried bow, you added, “I wish you a restful night. If you’ll excuse me, I must retire to my chambers.”

Before he could respond, you turned and left, your steps quickened by the heat of embarrassment. It felt as though you were fleeing a ghost—one whose presence had stirred something within you that you did not yet understand.

But the soldier was no ghost—not at all. If you had looked back, you would have seen how utterly taken by surprise the General was. He parted his lips, as if to say something—anything to make you stay—but no words came. He simply stood there, watching as you walked away.

If only you knew how his heart felt just a little weaker with your departure. · · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Your head throbbed. The deafening roars of the crowd, mingled with the clash of gladiators within the coliseum, did nothing to help. Attending the games was a duty you loathed above all others. You recalled your mother’s soft whispers when you were a child, not much older than six, as she leaned close during your first visit.

"You don’t have to look. Find something else to occupy your mind—count the soldiers in the stands, the women, the children..."

And so, every time you were forced to sit in that pit of violence, you obeyed her advice. Today, you noted there were more children and soldiers than before. The coliseum itself seemed different, too—three additional beams along the upper gallery, and a newly constructed gate to the prisons below.

Why does it grow larger every time I return?

You pressed your fingertips to your temples, moving them in slow circles to soothe the ache in your skull. The rhythmic motion was your only solace against the chaos surrounding you.

“I see the revelry of last night has caught up with you, Lady Aemilia.”

The voice was soft, tinged with humor. It came from the seat beside yours, where General Acacius sat. His words hung in the air, and with a light tone, his gaze lingered on you, searching for something.

Is he mocking me? Have I become his amusement?

Your eyes remained shut, but your tone turned sharp as you replied. “I expect respect from you, General, as I have shown you nothing but the same.”

Have you forgotten how to address a lady, Marcus?

The sting of your words landed precisely as intended. You heard him shift uncomfortably, and though your eyes were closed, you could sense the weight of his regret. Ever since your arrival, he had been looking for a way to earn your attention—desperate to hear your voice again, even if only to rebuke him.

Perhaps if I make her laugh...

He had misjudged, thinking of last night’s fleeting, playful moment when your shoulders had touched. He wished for that again—a simple touch, no matter how brief.

“I didn’t mean—” he stammered, pausing to collect himself. Then, taking a deep breath, he began again, his tone softer. “I wasn’t trying to mock you, Lady Aurelia. I only... Please, forgive me. I truly hope your headache eases soon.”

There was something in his voice that made your resolve falter, a sincerity that bordered on vulnerability.

If I could, I would take the pain from you and bear it myself, carissima.

You opened your eyes, finally meeting his gaze. For a moment, you saw the weariness etched into his face, more pronounced than the night before, as though he hadn’t slept at all. The sight gave you pause, but you said nothing.

Instead, his expression shifted, his features hardening into the same stoic mask he wore before his men. Diverting his eyes, he straightened in his seat, retreating behind his soldier’s composure.

Have I hurt him?

Before you could dwell on the thought, the cries of the crowd swelled around you. The word they chanted took a moment to register, and when it did, a familiar chill ran down your spine.

Death.

Your father rose from his seat, commanding the attention of the entire coliseum. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand. The crowd fell silent, holding its collective breath. But you knew what would come next.

His thumb turned downward. The crowd erupted in cheers, and another life was extinguished.

You flinched, as you always did. The hollow ache in your chest never lessened, no matter how many times you witnessed this. Bowing your head, you prayed silently for the soul of the fallen.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the General. He had risen as well, but the look in his eyes was not one of approval. Fury smoldered there, dark and restrained. Without a word, he turned and left his place, seeking an exit from the coliseum.

You felt an inexplicable longing to follow him. You weren’t sure if it was to escape the horrors of the arena or simply to be with him—anywhere, as long as he was there beside you. · · ─────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

You felt no inclination to read or write today, so you wandered to the principal garden instead. The serenity there always held a quiet magic for you. How you longed to see the untamed fields beyond the city walls, where birds soared freely and the wind danced through the trees, carrying with it the fragrance of wildflowers.

Your steps were slow as you moved among the blooms, the gentle rhythm of your walk an attempt to soothe the lingering ache in your head.

I am never drinking again. Never, ever.

“Lady Aemilia Aurelia,” came the voice of the guard assigned to you. His tone was respectful but firm, pulling you from your thoughts. “A letter has arrived for you.”

You turned to him, accepting the letter with a nod of thanks. Curiosity flickered in your mind as you examined it. It couldn’t have come from one of the maids—they had been dismissed for the day. And letters from beyond the palace, whether from princes or clandestine admirers, always passed through your father’s hands first.

Carefully, you opened it, and to your surprise, a small flower fell from within. Its delicate petals rested lightly in your palm, and you lifted it to your nose, inhaling the sweet, calming aroma.

The letter was brief, the handwriting unmistakably bold yet neat:

"This bloom is known for its healing properties, particularly for those burdened with aches of the head. I hope it brings you relief. Your loyal General, Marcus Acacius."

The ache in your head eased almost at once, but now, inexplicably, something else stirred—a gentle, unfamiliar ache in a different corner of your heart.

That night, as sleep claimed you, the faintest of smiles lingered on your lips. · · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

AN: I know pedro is beyond thirty years but this is how I imagine him for this fic. It is actually very dificult to keep it historically accurate, but I hope you understand! I will insert some references to the balls that happened in Pride and Prejudice and Bridgerton, but I think it'll be all. There's nothing I love more than an unconfortable dance between too characters who love each other in secret!

[mudandmire]

Azris one-shot

listen. listenlistenlisten I don't know what this is, I just thought it would be nice to see Eris drool over some thick, meaty Azriel. Not my intention to make him sound like a well-cooked steak but alas.

I wrote this in a very short amount of time so if there's typos or issues my bad but also I'm trying to get better at *gestures vaguely* not caring so much that it stops me from posting :D

(be warned there is smut, semi-graphic but I'm still virgin-esque at this so not fully)

*drops this and runs*

...

Eris had never truly thought of it—like looking at the sun straight on, it would probably burn him to do so. But that didn't mean he didn't see. Search the differences between two bodies and try and imagine where his hands would go on the soft curves of a waistline. The blush pink of kissed cheeks and satin skin framed by long, silken locks of hair. He could like it, could find the beauty in it, of course. But it was more like looking at flowers, the glimmer of sunlight on the surface of a lake. Such beauty was expected, known, and only to be looked at and admired—nothing to touch, certainly nothing to desire.

This body was different in all forms.

The camps had melded at some point, Eris had ended up somewhere different this time and honestly he was too stuck in his head to find his way back. The inky blue black of the night court wear became more common, Eris realized distantly he was somewhere in or close to the night court camp. Yet still, it wasn't enough to send him back-pedaling to his own camp, his own tent.

A male had come crashing to the earth, and Eris had seen skin. It was only once he had shut his agape mouth with a snap that he recognized the cobalt blaze of stones on the Illyrians chest and hands. Azriel—because surely he was forever cursed to only know that name, and so intimately that he knows the taste of his blood in his mouth yet doesn't know the shape the tattoo on his chest takes.

Azriel was yelling, tendons stark against his skin, sweat and a streak of blood across his forehead and jaw. His leathers were torn, from throat to nearly the waistline of his pants, hanging in ribbons around his body as he shucked off the arm of the male he was helping stagger to a medic. Something about the anger, so present it seemed to rattle his whole frame till those exposed parts of his body was jolting with it. Eris knew in some way that Illyrians are carved differently than autumn fae, even more so than high fae, yet it doesn't stop his mouth from going dry at the full look at just how different.

It's meat—he thinks it half-crazed. A healthy thickness to Azriel's chest that brings a curve to his pectorals, flexing with his movements as he shoves away one of the males, still shouting. Eris follows the path easily down, like his own trail of droplets of water or sweat or whatever remains staining his skin that glossy bronze. The weight of those muscles continues further, bunching at his abdomen which heaves and flexes and the hollow of his navel catches the light—

Shit. Cauldron boil him there are no words strong enough to describe the pang of lust that strikes him blind right between the eyes. It must've traveled all the way down the line of his spine because suddenly Eris can't breathe, can't look away, can't do anything but stay stuck, standing and feeling for the first time what he thinks is the white hot flame of desire flickering at the base of his spine. Some tease, some gentle prodding of 'you see me now?'

It's not like he didn't know. Eris had dragged Azriel's unconscious body enough times to know how impossibly heavy he is. It doesn't matter—seeing it, even partially bared to him like this, may just be the thing to send him to his knees.

He wants it.

Cauldron damn him to Hel, he wants.

And he's never been good at it, getting a hand around himself and reaching some pinnacle, some kind of precipice of relief so grand it's all the males his age could whisper and talk about. But he thinks, a little wild, a little starved, he thinks if he had the full weight of that body between his thighs. If he had it, warm with blood and flush with heat, maybe keeping the stripe of dried blood on his stubbled jaw—he thinks he could do it. Find the kind of release the soldiers in his army seem to find easily between the legs of a female.

And that's—that's the problem. That's him, in the depths of the problem.

It's amazing how many realizations he comes to within the span of what can be no longer than a couple heart beats. But in one moment Eris is watching the way Azriel's powerful body moves, muscles flexing under the bronze glint of his skin, and the next they're meeting eyes. Eris's body had gone from bubbling with a new kind of heat to icy with dread. The kind he only knows in window-less cells, iron chains.

Azriel meets his eyes, even from paces away, and Eris curses to himself as he feels his stomach swoop. Trying to dip closer to where that flame had rested even though it's hardly anything more than a dimming ember now. His eyes narrow, and Eris just hopes he can't see any of the lingering tinges of lust in his own gaze. That everything he felt had been kept in his head away from the environment outside.

For a moment he thinks he has succeeded in maintaining that careless facade, Azriel's own gaze darkening and his mouth tightening with a scowl. But then something happens, faster than Eris can understand, and he watches through what feels like fog as something crosses the Illyrian's face. His head tips, predatory and watchful, and begins to walk over.

Eris breathes out harshly, refusing to admit that it comes out trembling, that there's a part of him shaking deep behind his rib cage in fear that Azriel saw. Saw what Eris tried to hide and is coming to make an example out of him.

Eris draws himself up, chin pointed and looking down his nose as Azriel gets closer.

"Can I help you?"

Azriel doesn't say anything, the silence unnerving, as he just watches Eris from under the shadow of his lashes.

"Behind you." He says, Eris has to work to ignore the swell of his pectorals in front of him.

He swallows hard, off-balance, "I—pardon?"

"Tent, behind you, it's empty."

Eris starts to catch on—and it may not make a lot of sense, he may be welcoming his own murder, but there's something in the way Azriel's looking at him that brings the white hot flame back. The bubbles in his stomach, a clench at the base of his spine.

-

He's the first one in, the first one to cross the threshold of the tent but Azriel's not that far behind.

It's a different world when he steps through, maybe just a single moment in that world. A moment where Eris is allowed to look, to want.

And he wants.

-

Azriel's big, from up close and far away and right between his thighs the breadth of his shoulders is enough to send a tender ache through the muscles of his legs and the joints of his hips. It's messy from the start—trying to stay quiet and Eris coming to the mortifying realization that he's miserably bad at that. So Azriel keeps his mouth on his, or slides his fingers between his lips when he asks for lubricant, or presses his whole palm down across his mouth when he slides in.

All of him—Eris feels the length of him against the base of his spine and shivers hard—inside, pressed close, gods how can a body be so hot and not burn to ashes? And from there it's a chase. Eris keeps his teeth pinched in the meat of Azriel's scarred palm, and Azriel keeps his noises buried in the crook of his sweat-damp neck. He's all muscle, and there's no soft dip of a waist to cradle. There's no satin skin or delicate blush. Azriel is heavy, his stomach rolls over itself when his hips thrust back in, skin and muscle and Eris swears he can feel the flex of it all on his own neglected arousal.

His hands are—gods his hands—they're rough and worn, yet every now and then one will leave their position branding his hips with petal-shaped bruises and come up to cradle the back of his head. They run gentle over the back of his thigh when he pries him apart further—asking for him to open his body more, thighs to hip to where he's split open and raw at the center of his being.

The scars themselves are finger-prints.

These aren't the hands of anyone, of any male. Eris knows now, as the heave of their chests gets dire; the air hot and wet between their mouths, the constant, hard push of his cock right up into that one place that sets his belly on fire—he knows he'll forever remember this touch. Know these palms blind he swears he's been branded by the lightning-shaped ridges of them.

There's a moment where Eris loses sight, fingers locked in silken raven hair, as his hips move in harder, faster, his eyes rolling back to the point white sparks dance behind them. It's the end, some primal part of him knows what's coming even if he's never reached pleasure like this, and yet he digs in further with his nails, his heels as if keeping Azriel close will stave off the inevitable.

It does the opposite, Azriel's grunting low in his throat, animalistic and wanting and Eris sighs a soft moan when he feels the indentation of teeth at the hinge of his jaw. The noises their bodies make is nearly enough to send him off, but he's hanging there, just at the edge, just waiting.

Azriel's biceps flex, reaching under Eris's thighs and pulling them out and up so the backs of his knees rest in the crooks of his arms. He's folded, bared even further than he possibly thought he could be—feeling the roll of his own skin against himself and wondering when it got so wet. Gods does it do it, though. Azriel keeps himself closer than ever, hot breath against his cheek as Eris claws at him, a wail muffled behind his own hand, and feels the break through his body.

The angle, the pressure against that one perfect spot, Azriel's warmth and weight drawing so much heat from him, into him, everything snaps in one moment.

Azriel is there through it all, when Eris futilely arches up in some form of welcoming the lightning branding his spine, and when he comes back down. Still coiled tight under Azriel's working hips, though they falter in pace again, and again, and once more before Azriel curls over Eris's sweat-soaked, shaking body like the protective limbs of a tree.

The weight of his heaving stomach pressing against Eris's own makes him swallow hard, carding a trembling hand through Azriel's tangled locks, wondering if the scent of sex will stick to him like sunlight or if he'll only smell like he would after a battle, a sparring match. For a moment it's easy, gentle, breathing together and trying to find the balance they had completely lost once they crossed the threshold of the tent. Eris doesn't mind, the company is nice, even the ache of the stretch which has grown into a dull throb is pleasant.

It's the after he's dreading. The unsticking of their bodies, because Eris is warm here, and he knows deep down when Azriel pries himself away something vital will be ripped from him.

But it's a quick tryst in an empty tent, they both have things to do, and Azriel still has dried blood flaking on his cheeks. Eris supposes he can keep the memory of it for himself, just a little while.

...

(can you tell I didn't know how to end it)

um so like Hi. It's been a minute I blame college and my abysmal time management. First azris thing I've written in m o n t h s and man am I rusty but wow it feels good to get these two freaks back on my page 😎

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐗)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2201

A/N: "The future influences the present just as much as the past." -Friedrich Nietzsche

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That’s it! That’s where you’re gonna stop?” The little boy groaned, resting his head on y/n’s lap as she bandaged his hand. 

“Why of course, you’ll hear the rest when you’re ready. For now, mull over my words for there is always something to learn from history.” She smiled looking into the eyes of the little boy with a motherly affection. 

“What’s there to learn? Bruce Wayne’s selfish, Harvey Dent is ignorant and you–you’re just plain depressed.” The boy rolled his eyes, annoyed that he’d wasted half his night listening to a story without a climax. 

y/n’s smile widened as she chuckled. “I thought you were smart, little robin. No one ever tells you that bravery feels like fear. And it’s easy to be brave when you’d rather die than give up.” She combed a hand through his hair, humming some lullaby. 

As she tied the end of the bandage, securing it, the little boy sat up and leaned against her shoulder as he clarified, “So you’re saying I should fight till my last breath to get what I want? To be stubborn.”

“As hell. Or else the world will devour you, and you’ll be left dreaming.” She finished. 

The boy turned his head to face her, expecting the same gesture she gave him every night. Placing a kiss atop his forehead, y/n rose from her couch to prod at the flame burning in the fireplace with a poker. The boy watched her, unwilling to move from his seat. 

He loved y/n’s humble abode, for it overlooked Gotham in such a way that the city looked like a dream. From the window, he could see a sea of lights below and skyscrapers decorating the skyline in the distance. It was a picturesque view.

Not to mention her apartment was the perfect size, not too small that it felt claustrophobic but not too large that it felt artificial. There was a coziness to it that he never felt in his “real” home. The kind he craved to bathe in till the end of time. 

“Can I stay tonight?” He asked for the umpteenth time in the past week. He knew what she would say, that she truly wished she could but she couldn’t deprive his father of such a wonderful presence.

“Y’know what, why not? It’s the holidays, and I’m sure Batman wouldn’t mind you having a little time to yourself.”

“Really? Yes!” The boy exclaimed. Immediately he was on his feet, running to the kitchen for a midnight snack. As soon as he had his food in a bowl the boy ran back and turned on the TV above the fireplace, setting it the movie Home Alone. He cozied himself into the couch, cuddling into a blanket he found nearby, and patted at the empty space beside him, indicating for y/n to join him. 

She told him she needed a moment outside before joining him for the night. Setting the poker down in its mantle, y/n walked out to the patio, sliding the door behind her to ensure that the little boy would be none the wiser to what was happening outside. 

She took slow steps to the edge, leaning over the railing with her hands folded atop it. “I let him stay tonight. I hope you don’t mind,” she spoke, her words fading into the crisp air. The moon shone down as if illuminating just her. The rest of her patio was shrouded in a darkness so deep, that even a bat couldn’t see through it. 

That’s where he remained hiding as he answered, “Robin needs the break. Make sure he comes back in the morning.” He hesitated before he took a step into the light. Though he still remained out of her sight, she could feel the warmth exuding from his armored body. Standing on her feet again, she moved a step away from the rail until her back was only inches from his body.

“Batman, what a peculiar name. However, did you come up with it?” She began, hoping she’d elicit a reaction. There was a familiarity to his voice that she couldn’t quite place due to the modifier. 

Met with silence, she attempted conversation again. “It’s a beautiful, silent night. I remember a time when Gotham’s symphony was especially deafening during this hour. Why remain in the dark when you can bask in the light of the city’s new hope?”

“Darkness shields just as much as it threatens.” He confessed, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

“And light guides us home, to happiness.” She responded. She wished she could whip herself around, to face the dark knight in all his glory, but she knew he’d have left by now. He was never one to stay too long, but at least his fleeting presence made his company all the more precious.

Alone on the patio, y/n headed inside, back to the Bat’s protege: Robin. Inside, the eager little boy ignored the movie, and began to question y/n’s story yet again. “Please, please, please tell me more. What happened with the case, what happened after they found out where you lived?”

“Well, Falcone’s still serving time in jail, so to say we succeeded would be an understatement. Talking about the trial would be a bore, especially since most of it is public record. As for the boys, well nothing really changed. Harvey hung out more and more with Gilda until they fell in love when they went to Harvard. Bruce went to Yale and essentially dropped off the face of the Earth until he returned to Gotham last year.”

“Ok, if you don’t want to talk about them then I get it. But what about Dr. Crane, what happened with him?” Robin persisted. 

“That’s for another night, alright? Patience is a virtue you really should practice.” She chuckled, moving one of the couch pillows under his head as he slouched into a sleeping position. She patted his side until the boy forgot all about the movie and fell into a restful sleep beside her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A year prior, Bruce Wayne had come back to Gotham. Really, it was more like he had snuck in. For months he remained a recluse, until one day he threw the biggest gala Gotham had ever seen at his mansion. He called it his homecoming ball, but y/n believed it was merely a distraction. The Bruce she knew always used such extravagance as a facade, but there was always the fact that he’d been gone from Gotham for nine years. He’d most likely have changed in that time as any man would. 

By then, at the ripe age of 27, y/n herself had earned her spot in the Gotham Gazette. Having earned a few awards for her writing debut about her involvement in the unraveling of Falcone’s drug operation all those years ago, y/n was able to go to Gotham University and eventually Columbia to earn her degrees in journalism. From there, she was hand-picked by the Gazette to work for them as a full-time writer.

Batman had come into the picture just a month after Bruce’s return, but his presence was so rare that at first, he seemed a myth. Even now, a year later some people still doubt his existence. The only real proof people have is Robin, who showed up in his colorful spandex three months ago. y/n found the little bird in a back alley near her home on his first day, and ever since she’s been helping stitch him up or give him company on the nights he patrols as a sidekick to Batman.

Sending off Robin in the morning, y/n had the remainder of the day to prepare herself to attend another Wayne gala for Christmas. It was a dreaded assignment, for she had wanted to keep herself at a distance from any Wayne, but things don’t always work out the way we want them to.

Before heading to the mall to buy a nice gown for the black tie event, y/n headed to Gotham Academy. She was to meet an old friend at the now-abandoned stands that faced the racetrack. The place where it all began. 

Seated on the stands, she shielded herself from the winter wind with the large men’s coat she wore. Its color had faded with time, but the warmth it trapped was still able to keep her comfortable. It was large on her, but that made it all the more comforting for it engulfed her in a tender embrace. 

A tall, lean figure approached her, with his hood up and a mask to conceal his face. He was muscular, an attribute evident by the way the jacket comfortably hugged his figure. There was a noticeable bulge at his side in the shape of a sidearm, but it was tucked away snugly enough to reassure y/n that it wouldn’t be needed. 

The man took slow steps toward her as he took in y/n’s still form in all its glory under the morning sun. She looked absolutely angelic, with golden rays illuminating her glorious face. The man was utterly entranced by how beautiful she looked, despite the apparent lack of effort she had put into her appearance. 

“Harvey, dashing as always.” She broke the silence with her honey-laced voice.

He smiled as he took off his mask. Sitting beside her he replied, “y/n, lovely as ever. Merry Christmas.”

“I have the file you want, but I can’t imagine why you couldn’t get it yourself.”

“I may be a man scorned, but Two-Face still has his limits.” That may have been true for many things, but this circumstance was different. He wanted an excuse to see her again.

After the accident, Gilda had left him, his public image was ruined, and his mind was in shambles. Yet, y/n remained at his side, as his sole supporter. Even when he changed, when his pain led him down the dark path of criminality, y/n continued to stay in contact with him. He knew she hoped she could change him for the better, but they both knew it was a misplaced expectancy. 

She deserved the world for the kind of woman she was, and that was the very reason Harvey refused to make his advance. He couldn’t give her the heaven she deserved. He feared no man could. But Gotham had recently been put under new authority with all the Arkham inmates running around like they owned the place. And with vigilantism becoming a new trend, who knew what divinity may enter the equation to whisk her away for good? 

Handing Harvey the file, y/n stood. Quirking an eyebrow at her sudden departure he remarked, “Is that my coat?”

With her back to him, she answered, “Merry Christmas, Apollo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At last, she returned to her humble abode. At the entrance, there lay a large cardboard box marked with her address. At first glance, there was no sender, no note, nothing that eased y/n’s suspicions. y/n was hesitant to pick it up and bring it inside with nothing to reassure her that it was safe to open.

But a nagging instinct allowed her to let go of her precaution and do just that. Once inside, she set it down on the nearest counter, grabbed an exacto knife, and carefully sliced through the edges of the packaging. The box opened to reveal a note engraved in gold letters, reading, “Make a proper debut in high society with a bang. Sincerely, An Old Friend” 

As she read the sign-off signature, a few people came to mind. Harvey was the first suspect, having been graced by his longing niceties in the hours prior. But he wouldn’t have made such a blatant gesture for no reason; at the very least, he would have made it abundantly clear he was the sender. 

Selina could have simply bought a beautiful piece and sent it to her when they went out together. But there was no such occasion they had planned soon, and as far as y/n knew, Selina didn't know she was attending this gala. 

Another name came to mind, and this one was much more plausible. A girl she once knew, with a habit of making grand entrances had a knack for extravagance that could rival Selina’s. Something was definitely going to happen tonight, and she’d be the first reporter on the scene to break the story. How thoughtful.

Wearing the item inside the box, the flowing, midnight-blue silk dress, shimmered subtly under the soft lighting of her apartment. It hugged her curves with a delicate grace, its plunging neckline framed by delicate trim that cascaded down the bodice, ending in a graceful train that pooled around her ankles, leaving a trail of elegance with each step. The dress made her feel as though she’d finally fit in, no longer a weed in a field of roses. Taking her press pass and invitation in her clutch and wearing her simple silver heels, y/n was out her door again hailing for a cab on the street to make her way to the Manor. 

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

[khazzman]

I am a conflicted man because I both loved Season 2 of Arcane and was let down by it, and it really is all down to the fact that they were limited to just one more season, a real blunder in my opinion.

If they had another season they could have concentrated more on Caitlyn's sins AND then next season have her suffer because of them and work toward atonement (also maybe let Vi and her have sex in a comfy bed rather than a prison cell).

They could have had Jinx come around on becoming a revolutionary figure once she realizes it will give Isha a better life, as well as her bonds with Sevika. Imagine Sevika at Jinx's side like she was with Silco, except Jinx's desire for Zaun is almost more genuine and in line with Sevika's own dream of it.

And Mel! Such revelations we got with her in too short an amount of time! We could have had her doing more of her investigations if we had an extra season, have her deduce and discover her mother's intentions using her own cunning rather than having the Black Rose just tell her. It could give not just Mel but the audience unfamiliar with LoL lore more insight into what the Black Rose really is and why her mother is so motivated.

We could have spent more time with Ekko and the Firelights before him, Jayce, and Heimerdinger get zapped off to other times and worlds, see how they respond to Caitlyn's authoritarian rule.

And finally we could see more of rock-bottom Vi. Explore her relationship with Loris more, given that his similar appearance to Vander really has an effect on her. Watch them lean on each other at first but lose it as Vi sticks her head deeper and deeper into her sorrow, unable to get out till Jinx comes to get her to save their father (after maybe having had a revelation of her own that Vi still loves her and is owed another chance with their father).

And even more finally (I'm bad at ordering things) give a better depiction of the Piltover/Zaun conflict. Like I appreciate it that most of Zaun didn't come to fight when Jayce asked and only showed up when Jinx and Ekko, true Zaunites, asked it of them. But there needed to be more. I'm not saying it should have been a perfect ending where Zaun gets full equal standing to Piltover or its independence and we all hold hands and sing. But we needed specifically Caitlyn to make amends, if she is going to be with Vi (even if the other nobles don't) and show that Zaun isn't ready to give up the fight yet. Show that Ekko is leading the Firelights and Jinxers to better defend and build up their community.

That's my main pitch for what could have been. I'm happy we still got something but there will always be room for improvement.

[atrophiedemotion]

escapism vs reality in alien stage

in this post (elaborated greatly by geo's tags as well) i mentioned a big sua/till parallel i noticed (but didn't go into much detail because i didn't want to derail the post lol), and i wanted to go into more detail on that and the overall reality vs fantasy theme alnst has going.

sua & till both use their love for mizi as a form of escapism. sua's love for mizi and the weight of her knowledge of their universe causes her to create a safe (fake) bubble for her and mizi to exist in & makes it as perfect as it can be before they're out of time. till uses his love & admiration for mizi as a beacon of hope, as motivation to go on despite how horribly he's treated in day to day life. mizi is the brightness in both of their dull lives.

this view of mizi as a hopeful, optimistic sort-of deity sheds light onto an entire theme of alien stage, escapism vs reality. it also shows that mizi & ivan, in this specific instance, are antitheses of each other.

mizi, as a character, symbolizes hope and escapism. she is the only character out of the main four that didn't understand the exact conditions of their world due to how she was raised. she does not fully grasp how horrifying the alnst universe is until she watches sua die, which is the inciting incident for the entire series. escapism isn't possible anymore, but hope is still there when she gets rescued by hyuna and joins the rebellion.

ivan, on the other hand, literally symbolizes truth and the reality of their world. since he was born he understood the cruelty the segyein are capable of and knows exactly where he stands in the world. he is seen to be fatalistic and even nihilistic. his death, which he sees as an inevitability, is the second inciting incident (the one where everything goes to shit chaos afterward). it is a brutal reminder of the truth of alien stage to both the characters and the audience.

sua & till actively seek out mizi as solace in their pain, and they both actively avoid ivan (in their own ways) and the connections he has to reality.

sua avoids ivan because, well, he's mean to her, but mostly because he's not even trying to be mean, he's just objectively right and she doesn't want to hear it. he is a reminder not only of the cruel world they live in but her own 'twistedness'. he reminds her that she is not solely the fantasy she's created with mizi, but someone with unavoidable knowledge of the inevitable (as well as someone who is willfully keeping this information from an unknowing mizi).

till avoids confronting his feelings for ivan and confronting ivan in general because ivan confuses him. his feelings for ivan aren't cut and dry in the way his feelings for mizi are, because ivan is and always will be tied to pain and suffering for till (their first meeting in the auction shop, their miscommunication/strange relationship, the fact that ivan is the only one who sees him at his most vulnerable, etc). ivan's death forces him to confront these feelings (for ivan & about their world in general) but even then he's repressing them until he physically can't anymore.

mizi is escapism & hope, literally realized because she escapes. ivan is reality & a representation of the fate of alnst contestants, literally realized through his death.

it doesn't end there, though. sua & till are escapists running from reality (with diverging paths that are both narratively important in their own ways), while mizi represents escapism & ivan represents reality. along similar lines, but going a step further, hyuna & luka showcase these exact themes.

hyuna is the legitimate showcase of hope, of freedom. she is a free human (as free as you can get in the alnst universe) and the leader of a human rebellion focused on uprising as a race against the segyein.

luka is the perfect example of compliance within reality. he is now a two time alien stage champion and the definition of a pet, no matter how he actually feels.

hyuna & luka are similar to, but a step beyond, mizi & ivan. mizi symbolizes escapism, but she is faced with reality and must grapple it, while hyuna is freedom personified (albeit with demons of her own). ivan symbolizes reality, but he still yearns for something he thinks he'll never have, while luka completely shuts off those emotions because he knows they will only jeopardize his chances of survival.

the characters of alien stage perfectly embody one of the core themes of alien stage, the discrepancy between fantasy and truth, and the way those can coincide in a world.

[tojididnothingwrong]

Funny, isn't it?

toji x you — angst - melancholy

bad vibes and suic:ide mention. careful 18+ (i think so)

NO SMUT!!! ONLY ANGST!!!

'It all started when you said: is fine, Toji, you can do what you want. You will just go for a walk with them, don't ya?'

Funny, isn't it? How he ignored your messages the first hour you were apart. It was your anniversary, five years of dating, the fifth day in a row you were apart. Funny how this happened a third time, and of course, it was funny when he answered your call, upset. He didn't usually drink, why did he do that? You knew he had a drinking problem. Why would he do that?

Of course, it was pretty funny when he said that his friends took him to a party in the middle of the "walk", right?

Sure, it was funny when he cursed at you, said all that nonsense you thought he would never say to you. You thought he genuinely loved you, but it's funny to think that he just used you, the same way everyone else had done. You heard his friends, Gojo and Geto laughing at you, the laughter of drunk women saying that you were a nobody.

Oh sure, not to mention when Toji himself said: any of these bitches can have a better pussy than yours, any of them was prettier, smelled better and would definitely suck him much better than you.

So, after the humiliation session, you took all your things, "your" car, which was now yours since you had paid for everything, and left back to your house. And then, everything became funny to you. Toji's calls the next day begging you to come back, him knocking on your door, crying on the phone calls. Ahh yes... that was beautiful, and funny, of course. It was funny when, after a few months, you were in a new job, meeting new people, and Toji was still in that mediocre house, going after any mean and selfish bitch who, when they found out he was broke, would leave, and he would go back to humiliating himself in your house.

He always said, "Babe, listen to me, I know I said shit, but I was high and... shit! I was high and drunk, those bitches were influencing me to say that. I just wanted to look cool in front of those two assholes, please forgive me. Come back with me, I'll be different...". Then you cried. He wasn't going to change, you missed him, but was it worth it?

Funny, right? Before, you would do anything for him, but I don't think you would feel the same way now. It's funny to know that he slept with your best friend, it's funny to know that he was the one who was spending your money on brothels and, when you questioned him, he would give an excuse. Now you understand everything.

Yeah, maybe it really is funny. It was really funny when you moved to another city because you couldn't stand him humiliating himself on your doorstep anymore, he went with a restraining order. That was the end for you. And a few months later you found out about his breakup. Had Toji really done that? What if you had stayed? What if you had come back?

It was funny, till it wasn't anymore. Was funny to know that you could try have him back, but now you can't.

Now, we both can say that: Funny, isn't it? How you deal with the grief and the guilt of losing him again? This time you can't have him back.

[kalmiaphlox]

WIP or Snip, you decide

thank you @xxnashiraxx and @busy-baker for the tags!

OK, Last time I gave yall something very weird so here is something nice(ish).

From a future chapter of "Till Lies Break Our Hearts" that isn't all that far away. 😚

Astarion is playing a dangerous game.

They hold that pose, her back bowing, supported effortlessly in his arms while staring into each other's eyes for what should be a blissfully intimate moment, but Astarion is left disturbingly conflicted. Is now a good time, or would that be exceptionally awkward given the prior conversation, even if it ended on a lighter note? What if Hircine rejects this advance? There's only so much boundary crossing one can take before they push back.  He hesitates for too long and for the umpteenth time tonight, Hircine stuns Astarion—and also herself by the uncertainty flickering across her features when she grabs his collar between her hands, pulling him down. Their lips meet, and her's are certainly not as soft as he expected. He's never thought of such a thing, ever, especially not when resting his head against her chest, listening to the feeble, but steady beat of Hircine’s heart following a feeding. He expected more timidity from his wife, and by the way their lips easily found each other, the rising heat of her flesh branding itself against his, Astarion knows she has, at the very least, kissed someone before.  A few more beats pass before she breaks the kiss, the gray of her skin turning a plum in what he assumes is embarrassment at her own audacity. He won't let a moment like this pass though, and Astarion closes the gap once again for another kiss, a lingering taste. Hircine needs to think he wants more from her. They like the chase, that chance to feel desirable, and then he'll pull back on his flirtations when it's time for her to chase him. Love and lust is a game at the end of the night, and Astarion has played it masterfully more times than he can count. It's stayed very tame by the time they pull away, and really those sweet pecks on the lips are his favorite, they always leave both sides wanting more, even if he's the only one left alive at the end. If he has to suffer for eternity, he's going to find some minimal amount of enjoyment in it. A shudder travels through Hircine's slight frame as he helps her stand back upright, now dazed, and a little confused at the turn of events for the night. Did she think they would just end with some mild chatter and call it quits? No, no. I'm in this for my freedom. Everything is at stake! And fine, maybe he's the tiniest bit hungry for more than just her blood. He's a man deprived of soft, non-sexual affection, and if he's married, he's going to wring out every benefit that shackle might grant him.

Tagging @davenswitcher, @amoremagnificentbastard, @andauril, @roguishcat

@obsessedwhyyes, @pinkberrytea and @bakuliwrites

[roseofhybrids]

was gonna write this in the tags, but it got way too long for that, so

short answer: If we're going purely off of the cannon material we've seen in the series I have to say too ambiguous to answer

long answer:

on one hand she did a lot of bad things, abuse, murder, siding with robo-satan

but on the other, we never got the chance to see what she would choose to do when truly free to make her own choices through the series, she's either under control of the Elliots or the solver. Which severely limits just how in control she can be of her own choices. Would standing up for your "boss and coworkers" against people and entities bent on abusing and killing them be the right thing to do? Definitely, but it's also a fast way to get yourself and them killed this isn't meant as a justification of any of her actions, just an explanation of why she'd choose them

and we don't get the chance to see if she'd continue choosing to act the way she did in the series after the solver gets defeated

take N and V for example they also did a lot of murder of both humans and drones while working for the solver. While V didn't physically hurt N, as far as we know, she still did mistreat him. You can argue that it was to a lesser extent than what J did, but even if it wasn't as bad, it still wasn't good either All three of them were made to do horrific things while working under the absolute solver. But we only get to see how N and V change when free from that

N's change is pretty quick He didn't remember the solver at the time of the pilot, so he didn't have to consider the possible consequences of going against an eldritch space demon that has already eliminated at least 1 planet

V on the other hand did remember and as a result takes longer to change In episodes 2 and 3 we see she's still intent on killing the worker drones and tries to convince N to do the same. She asks him to stop looking into the solver and goes to the prom planning to kill everyone there. V can remember the deal she made with the solver, and she knows it's out there. She can't start slacking off just because J is gone, it could show up at any point and there would be consequences for both her and N In episode 4 we see this fear first hand. V sees Uzi is getting taken over by the solver and attempts to kill her. She justifies this to N by saying that if they do their jobs, that thing (the solver) will leave them alone. She is killing in order to protect herself and N from the solver

This is the exact same justification J gives to V in the finale. She justifies siding with the absolute solver because she believes there's no way to escape or defeat it. There's no escape even in death, so it's pointless to disobey it. Had J come back sooner and had a similar encounter with V in episode 2 or 3, maybe even 4. It's possible that V would have agreed with J back then

But when they do fight in episode 8, V now believes it's possible to overcome the solver and as a result rejects J's offer to join the "winning team". Cementing her evolution to a heroic character

J on the other hand has not had the chance to have that growth. While N and V had the chance to be free from the solver for a while. J spent that entire time by its side. J isn't free from it till CYN's core is destroyed

so, would J choose to better herself now that there's no obligation to please a violent master that will kill her for stepping out of line?

well we can't say for sure we can speculate, of course. There's certainly signs and evidence that she has the capacity for it, but we can't see if that change takes place. If it happens, it happens post canon

I personally believe she could if given enough time and the room to atone by the other drones.

But she could just as easily be rejected by the other drones and be left alone to stew and grow resentful

Maybe they try to let her in, but she ends up being unwilling to change and instead isolates herself. Be it because of ego or a fear of diverting from the life she's lived for so many years

How J turns out after the credits roll is left to interpretation. It's hard to call her bad when we take her situation into account and see the potential for growth. But it's also hard to call her good when we don't know for sure what happens

Rb and all that jazz

[palewolfcheesecake-blog]

tyler had NO right making 'sorry not sorry' the vibe that it is

[taffywabbit]

i have lots of flaws but i do at least take a fair amount of comfort knowing that, if i were a customer NPC in a fast food/retail management game, i would be one of the chill early-level ones that can wait a super long time before they start getting impatient, and you breathe a sigh of a relief when you see them show up in a harder level

[rafumeika]

What Mahito did: Manipulate Junpei into being his friend and then killed him in front of Yuji, laughed about Yuji's desperation to save him, killed Nanami, got Nobara into a coma, destroyed one of Todo's hands

Yuji with Mahito at the end:

What Sukuna did: Threaten to kill Yuji's friend multiple times, ripped Yuji's heart out of his chest and then tricked him into making a Binding Vow that he would have to forget in order to bring him back to life, laughed at Yuji when he desperately begged him to try and save Junpei, told him over and over again that his mere existence would bring destruction simply by being his vessel, destroyed Shibuya and killed countless of innocent people, ditched Yuji to make Megumi his new vessel, then sinked Megumi's soul as deep as he could in darkness in order to keep control of his body, killed Tsumiki, killed Gojo, killed Kashimo, killed Higuruma, killed Choso, almost killed Yuta and pushed him into using Kenjaku's CT to get into Gojo's body, kept praising literally everyone else but Yuji (while still trying to kill them), who he kept talking shit about instead, got pissed when Yuji showed pity and told him that he would kill every single person still left alive that Yuji cared about before finally killing him

Yuji with Sukuna at the end:

[freewilllife]

In other words, you think Su-Won viewed marriage to Yona as a last-minute (and legitimate) alternative to murder that he half-heartedly believed in, ultimately giving up after Il rejected it?

No, I do believe that the irrational part of Soo Won that both desired to keep two of the few people that still cared for him, wanted to try this solution earnestly. Soo Won loves Hak and Yona. Or you can see it like this: Till the moment of King Il´s death...Soo Won´s box for both of these people was not closed...and he has never succeeded to close it completely till the end and not it is open again.

From the first time Hak speaks about that possibility we see that Soo Won is crying, when he thinks of Hak and Yona not being by his side. Soo Won did not even cry, when his father died...so much does he love them.

However, the likelihood of that becoming true was very small, to non-existant. And Soo Won must have been aware of it. He would not completely bet everything on it. Not if failure would mean a huge chunk of people dying.

There is also this...I do believe that Soo Won speaks the truth here...

For the first time, he might have looked at Yona as a woman...and he could imagine marrying here.

Up until now, it might be really that she was a child to him.

Who knows. Even so, he was considering murder as the other alternative. And if the chance was so slim, giving that hairpin was not a sound choice imo.

No, it surely wasn´t. But people do have desires and wishes and Soo Won wished for his two friends to stay by his side.

So it's one possibility, but here's another angle to consider: what if Su-Won genuinely believed that Hak and Yona were engaged the whole time and therefore never considered convincing Il? Because while Yona did confess her feelings to Su-Won and Hak supported the idea of their marriage, unless I am mistaken, Yona never explicitly told him that her "engagement" with Hak was off the table.

Oh, Yona did. That was directly before she confessed her feelings for Soo Won.

Yona denied the engagement here, but Soo Won didn´t buy it at first...and that was the reason, she tells him.

"The truth is, I..." and then Yona confessed her feelings.

After that Soo Won, and Yona telling him again, that she likes him, he seemed to have realized that Yona really had lied to him.

Actually, Soo Won even emphasized that he gave the hairpin to Yona pretty late in the game...So it is pretty sure, that the hairpin should signify something.

Closeness to Yona: Well, we do know now that Soo Won loving her hair, is heavily influenced by him being a descendant.

But this moment is also interesting, since Soo Won is actually trying to get close to Yona, by his own accord.

The whole chapter is funny in retrospective. Even that he gave her flowers...a flowery hairpin...as Kouka means flower...and that is the reason, he later killed her father.

I guess...this is the last time before King Il´s murder that he let´s himself be lead very strongly by his own emotions.

He is even staring at Yona and both only realize far too late that Hak is standing between them....and you could also look at it in retrospective, that the mangaka emphasized that both would never become a couple.

I interpret Soo Won denying "it" quite simple. He knew how unlikely the whole deal is...And additionally it is likely, that Soo Won had been caught by his own emotions...and he might not be very comfortable with this. that is why the sweat drop was maybe there...And Soo is surprised by his reaction ..that is why he answers in the first moment with "Huh?"

If Soo Won really tried to "act the lover"...he would have not denied it, when Hak mentioned it. And it would have been also unlikely that he had tried to get close to Yona, if he had honestly wished to kill her father...his guilt due to the murder, made him shrink back earlier...after all.

Closeness to Hak: Later we can see he is cooler, trying to persuade Hak to call him Soo Won. Also here, we can see that Soo Won wishes "closeness" to Hak...even though he considered murder? Unlikely.

Soo Won had both spent time with Hak and Yona and he considers this possibility seriously, however he still has a back up plan, if you want to think about it like this.

However, it all went absolutely wrong. The conversation between King Il and Soo Won...

Ever since Su-Won made the decision to make Yona the queen and Yona heard of it from Hak instead of him, I've been quite curious about what they'll say to one another when they finally meet face to face again. I don't know, I feel like that encounter just going to be different from all the others, intense. Because both have acknowledged her as his equal, just not directly to one another yet.

First there’s a political side. Whether Yona wants the throne, whether Su-Won really wants to pass it down. There is also the emotional side.

Yona remained calm (though disgusted) when she commented that Su-Won was selfish, but that was still from a distance. Which is why I can't shake the thought that Yona could be absolutely livid if Su-Won actually manages to enter the chalice (especially if it's with some intention to "save" Yona and "sacrifice" himself like some fear).

If it happens, can we get a scene where she slaps his face? Tells him to snap the fuck out of it? Stop making all these selfish decisions for her? To not put her on a pedestal and be so suicidal all of a sudden? That she's not a damsel in distress who needs saving, that she'll find a way to make the dragon gods to understand? Because such a scene will actually be a good subversion of expectations. Kusanagi has done it before, so this would be a great opportunity.

I mean Yona's already said it in her mind. "Don't you dare die as you please. Rely on those around you." She even said it to Hyu-ri. She just has to actually say those words to Su-Won himself.

Yona did disappoint me in the recent chapter because she became quite literally a damsel in distress (how else are we supposed to describe her in that scene), but a hypothetical scene like this would make up for it. It would return her agency. And honestly I've been dying to see a scene where Yona just lets all the resentment out instead of constantly suppressing it for the country or because she wants to be the better person. The dragon gods said she was also selfish, so let's see that side show a bit more.