#i'm sure you understand my sorrow

[nerdallwritey]

I just thought id share that thought with u it's not a request or anything. misery loves company so I'm dragging my favourite bard writer down with me

I know it wasn't!! But it got my creative juices flowing and I had to write a little blurb, if you can even call it that.

Dude I LOVE to wallow, literally don't worry about it!! It's about the yearning, it's about the longing, it's about the NEED!!! I'm right there with you.

Aw shucks, I'm flattered you thought of me!! I love putting bards AND astarion in Situations lol.

I said it in the tags of my previous post, but MY Astarion song that I wallow about is Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction (I highly recommend looking up the lyrics!) - I'm CONSTANTLY creating a storyboard for an animatic of that in my head, but it's a very amorphous thing where I think of different scenes almost every time I listen to the song. I attempted to write down some ideas once, so maybe someday I'll finish and share that! I'm no artist, but that doesn't mean I'm not constantly imagining art I wish I was skilled enough to create 😅

ESSENTIALLY, in my mind, it's about him wanting to run and flee and find freedom, but instead he finds it in loving you ❤️

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt3 of the Danny is a clone/reincarnation in the DC universe au. Danny meets an alien [pt2 here] [pt 4 here]

Danny was jittery all day, but he is trying to not cling to Cass. He'll definitely give in once Damian's friend is here, but he's determined to not give into his childish instincts before then. And he's being mostly successful!

He ignores the amused and concerned looks Cass sends him every time he forces down his instincts. He wants to stop being so codependent. He won't lie, it's been nice to let these people baby him, but he didn't use to be such an anxious wreck that can't do anything without his hand being held. It makes him hate himself at the end of the day when he only has his thoughts, so he's going to take the effort to do a little better. And this is his first baby step.

"I'm home!" Danny perks up at Tim's voice.

"Green Room!" Cass calls out, and Tim sticks his head in a moment later.

"I want to change out of my suit, but I'll be right back." Tim explains. "Damian and Jon won't be here for at least another 20 minutes, and that's only if traffic is good, which it never is, so it'll probably be closer to 30 minutes."

Danny nods, trying to swallow his rising panic. He hasn't been able to get a single word out all day. Luckily Cass can understand his body language when his hands are full and he can't write.

Cass comes and sits next to him when Tim ducks out. "You're being very brave."

[Doesn't feel like it.]

"New things are scary. Trauma makes it hard." Cass smiles sadly before switching to sign language. Danny can sign too, but he prefers his iPad.《My father was a very bad man. Trained me to be weapon only. I understood no language other than body. When I came to live here, I was scared too. I knew only to hurt, but it hurt to read pain. Had to learn how to be a person, like you are now. It's very brave to face what scares you. Like new people.》

[I still don't feel brave.] Danny fiddles with his stylus [There's too much wrong with me for normal people to be nice. I will be vivisected if people know.]

《Family will not let that happen. You're baby brother and we will fight for you til you can fight for yourself.》

Danny sniffles and manages his first word of the day. "Okay..."

Cass hugs him tightly and kisses the side of his head. "We love you. Trauma and all, baby brother."

Tim enters the room in a stolen hoody, some leggings, and house shoes at that moment. He pauses to look at them before sitting on Danny's other side, rubbing his back.

"It's not too late to tell them you changed your mind, kiddo."

[No. I need to do this. It's unhealthy to isolate yourself or hide from new experiences.] Danny gives a deep sigh. [I'm tired of being scared all the time.]

"Have you thought about going to a therapist? I don't want to push you, but I have found it really helpful." Danny knows Tim started going to a therapist about 2 weeks after Danny arrived. He can't help but wonder if Tim did that because Danny started clinging to him and Danny was too much. It makes him feel guilty, but he read enough mental health papers recently to know even if Danny is the straw that broke the camel's back, Tim was wise enough to get help.

[I'm not sure I'm ready to talk to someone about everything.]

"A good therapist will help you at your own pace." Tim tells him, "I vetted a dozen therapists, and am currently vetting another 6, so you can switch if you need to at any point. I just want you to be as happy, healthy, and safe as you can be."

Danny is thinking it over so hard that he startles into invisibility when he hears the front door open and Alfred greeting someone.

"Oh! Damn, time moved fast." Tim blinks at the doorway before turning towards Danny's invisible figure. "We can still turn them away."

Danny wills himself back into the visible spectrum. [I need to do this.]

"If you say so..." Tim's face is an odd mix of emotions; grief, sorrow, pride, and relief are all there. He calls towards the door. "Damian! We're in the green room!"

With them all sitting, Danny can't hide behind Cass or Tim, so he just buries himself into Cass's hug. A few moments later, Damian and a honey tan guy with black hair and deep sky blue eyes enter the room with a slightly nervous energy. Danny blinks at that. Damian's nervous energy is clearly over introducing them, and who-is-obviously-Jon's energy screams "Please like me! I want to be friends!". He briefly wonders if this is how siblings usually introduced friends to family. All parties scared that they won't like each other. He and Jazz didn't really have friends to introduce, so this is new territory for him.

"See?" Cass smiles at him, clearly talking about Jon's gold retriever puppy energy. Danny nods at her before shyly waving at the newcomers. Jon beams and Damian relaxes a hair.

"Hi, I'm Jon! Dami's told me a lot about you!" Danny sends Damian a confused frown. "He likes to brag about his cute new little brother."

[What is there to brag about?] Danny tilts his head. [I haven't done anything to brag about.]

"Are you kidding?" There's sadness in everyone's body language, but Jon is still smiling at him. "You sound awesome! You can read body language like Cass! And are trying to learn alien languages and history for fun! You apparently memorized every space fact you come across! You like learning in general! Trying to cover all the education you missed because your evil creators! And you want to know the coolest thing about you currently?"

Danny rapidly blinks at Jon's list, actually sitting up straighter and unintentionally pulling from Cass's hug. She lets him go easily.

[What?]

"You're letting me meet you despite your crippling anxiety." If Jon had a tail, it would be wagging hard. "No one would blame you for locking yourself away and hiding from the world after everything you've been through, but here you are! Trying to concur your fear and meeting me!"

Danny can feel himself blushing, but realizes Jon is kind of right. While he can still feel his anxiety wanting to smother him, he doesn't feel like he's drowning and needs to run away.

[I still don't see how any of that makes me "cool".]

"It's okay if you don't get it. The people who care about you do and can remind you to be nicer to yourself." Jon nods to his own statement before excitedly floating off the ground. "I love your hair! It looks like it has stars and comets in it!"

Danny's face feels like it's on fire. He can feel Tim and Cass trying to compress laughter.

"Well, that's a way to win him over." Tim can't quite keep the amusement from his voice. Danny hides his face in his hands, while Jon flounders.

"Wait! What?? What did I do??"

"You told a kid who's obsessed with space that his hair looks like space." Damian sounds exasperated and fond.

"Oh. Oh!" Jon sounds embarrassed, so he clearly hadn't thought about that when he said it. Which is nice.

Danny huffs out a tiny laugh and can feel the room freeze at the sound. It only lasts a second before Cass is hugging him in delight, and the tense moment is gone.

"I can now tell Todd only his ugly face made Danny cry." Damian says with all the maliciousness of a petty sibling. He recognizes it from his time with Jazz. Luckily, none of his new siblings have directed that tone towards him yet, he just knows he'll start crying. He's pretty sure they know it too.

He hates how fragile he is now, not being able to take slightly mean sibling teasing is the worst, but he literally can't do anything about it. He has to take baby steps and heal his trauma at a pace his brain and core can handle, or the potential ghost of Jazz will beat him to a third? fourth? death when they meet again.

Danny reluctantly leaves Cass's hug. He can still feel the steady thum of his anxiety, but Jon hasn't been mean or scary at all. Jon also potentially has advice for how Danny can control his ghost powers that are leaking steadily into his human form. It's like getting his powers all over again for the first time.

[How are you floating?]

"Oh! It's one of the powers I got from dad!" Jon beams.

[I know. But HOW? Can't control mine.]

"Damian! You didn't tell me he has powers!" Jon complains.

"I wasn't going to say anything in public." Damian glares lightly at his friend.

Jon turns a beaming grin at Danny."What do you do? I've got flight, superstrength, durability, lazer eyes, superhearing, and ice breath!"

Danny turns a pleading look to Tim, who flashed an amused but reassuring smile. "So far we've seen; flight, invisibility, intangibility, and we think an ice power is trying to develop. His hearing is advanced as well."

[Ghosty]

"You are not a ghost." Damian is pouting. This is one of the few play arguments Danny has been able to have without having a panic attack.

[Ghost powers. Hides from people. I'm a ghost.] Danny is playfully serious.

"I can see your point, but you're not dead!" Damian seems genuinely a little frustrated, and Danny freezes. Unfortunately long enough to make everyone worried, but he snaps out of it.

[I'm not sure I count as alive.] Danny admits, and the concern in the room skyrockets. He directs the next note towards Jon. [You have superhearing?]

"Yes..?"

[Listen.] Danny pats his chest. Jon's eyes lock on where his heart is.

"No.. no way! Why is it so slow?" A pause. "Your breathing is slow, too. Even though I can tell how anxious you are, meaning this is fast for you... What's that buzzing sound?"

[I'm a freak.]

"Danny, honey, don't call yourself a freak." Tim scolds. "It's not your fault you're like this or were even made. The real freaks are the LoA."

《And even if you were, we like you the way you are.》

"How about we focus on something else?" Jon is frowning in concern, but smiles when he makes eye contact with Danny. "How about we go to the gym, put out the thick mats, and see if we can get you flying on command?"

Everyone is silent as Danny thinks it over.

[Okay.]

The rest of the visit is spent in the manor's gymnastics gym. Danny is still too skittish to let Jon within 5 ft of him and doesn't say anything aloud, but he interacts, and learns some neat tricks when it comes to flying and landing. He still has trouble, but he made some real progress before it's time for dinner. Danny trails after Jon when he goes to leave after dinner, and graces the alien with a quiet.

"Bye..." Danny doesn't understand the funny thing everyone's face does, but he has to dodge Dick's tackle hug directly after. He quickly hides behind Tim after that, completely done with social interaction now. Tim fends off Dick and gets Danny to his room.

Danny likes how his room has changed over the months he's been here. The giant bed is gone, replaced by a bunkbed that's been modified to have sturdy planks hiding the bottom bunk on 3 sides and sturdy folding doors on the 4th. Danny can't sleep in the open anymore, so they made him a nice hidden bed so he'd stop sleeping under the bed. It's also shoved to the wall where he can see all the exits when he peeks out of his hidey hole. Every available surface is covered in space stuff. The built-in bookshelf near the windows is full of his favourite books and different workbooks for alien languages. Rocket ship models are on any book free space. Different space themed posters are plastered all over his walls, the side of his desk and dresser, even his bunk's sturdy exterior. Glow in the dark stars are placed in his home dimension's constellations throughout the room, not that anyone but him knows that. Inside his bunk, he has star covered bedding and star shaped fairy light.

Danny's space obsession has never been so filled. He feels well-fed and safe in this room.

He ends the day feeling accomplished for once. He starts looking forward to meeting his siblings' friends, even if he's scared shitless by the idea.

[ivyues]

Scars of the Past: Stray Kids' reactions to finding out their S/O was cheated on in the past

Bang Chan

While watching a drama together, the plot unfolds about a cheating scandal. Casually, you commented, "Ugh, I know how that feels." Chris looked over, concern immediately filling his eyes.

You smiled bitterly, huffing out a small breath. "I haven’t told you I was cheated on, did I?" Chris’ face freezed for a moment before his expression softened with empathy.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice gentle, a hint of worry in his tone. When you explained, his jaw tightened, and he pulled you closer.

"I’m so sorry you went through that. You never have to doubt us, okay? I’ll make sure you never feel that way again." For the rest of the evening, he keept you close, reassuring you with soft kisses and sweet words.

Lee Know

During a round of "Never Have I Ever" with friends, the topic of infidelity comes up. You casually admited you’ve been cheated on by a former partner before. Minho stiffened but says nothing in front of the whole group.

Later, when you’re alone in the car, he locked eyes with you, his expression suddenly serious.

"I can’t change what happened to you, but I can promise I’ll never hurt you like that. You're too precious to me."

He gently took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, holding them tightly. It was a simple yet meaningful gesture, an unspoken promise that this moment is different.

Changbin

In the middle of a conversation about insecurities, you mentioned that your last partner cheated on you, and it was the reason you sometimes struggle with trust. "They did what?" His voice rose slightly, but he caught himself, softening as he saw your discomfort.

He pulled you into a tight hug without hesitation, but there was a flicker of discomfort in the gesture, as if he was unsure whether it was the right move. He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes.

"I'm so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you," he sayed, his voice full of sincerity.

After a moment of silence, he hesitated before asking, "Do you... do you still talk to this person?" His tone was careful, as if he was afraid of the answer but knew he needs to ask.

Hyunjin

Watching a romance movie together, the protagonist discovered her partner cheating. You murmured, "Yeah, that’s all way too familiar." Hyunjin immediately paused the movie, turning to you.

"You were cheated on?" he asked, his eyes big and full of sadness. His tone carried a mixture of shock and indignation, as if the idea is almost impossible for him to grasp.

When you nodded, he pulled you into a tight hug. "I can’t believe someone could betray you like that. I hope you know you’re worth so much more. I’ll remind you every day if I have to."

Han

During a late-night chat, you mentioned offhandedly, "Yeah, my ex cheated on me once."

Han froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You? You got cheated on?" he blurted, his tone incredulous. "How is that possible? You're amazing."

You couldn’t help but huff out an unexpected laugh by the seriousness in his voice. He shook his head, a mix of frustration and sadness on his face. "They were an idiot," he declared, taking your hand. "I’ll never understand how anyone could treat you like that – but I’ll make sure you never feel that way again."

His smile returned, softer this time, as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "Promise."

Felix

During a cozy night in, a TV show triggered a memory, and you casually mentioned, "Yeah, my ex did that to me too." Felix froze mid-bite of his snack, his eyes wide with shock.

"They what?" His voice was a mix of disbelief and sorrow. When you avoided his gaze, focusing on the TV instead, he leaned forward slightly, trying to catch your eyes. “Hey,” he sayed softly, his tone coaxing but serious. When you finally met his gaze, his expression is earnest, his eyes searching yours.

He took your hands in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles. "You deserve so much better. If you ever feel unsure or insecure, just tell me, okay? I want to be the one to heal that part of you."

Seungmin

When Seungmin casually mentioned a friend he’s been talking to, you froze, suddenly feeling uneasy. He noticed the shift in your mood. "Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice soft but concerned.

You hesitated, then admitted, "I know you're not like them, but… I’ve been cheated on before, and it’s hard to trust anyone after that."

Seungmin’s eyes widened in surprise. "I had no idea," he sayed quietly.

You looked down, your voice shaky. "I want to trust you, Seungmin. But the damage is done. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way."

He gently took your hand across the table, his touch warm. "I’m so sorry you went through that. I want you to know I’m not like them. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust."

I.N

As a song about cheating played on the radio, you murmured, "This song really hit hard when I found out about my ex."

Jeongin’s face shifted from surprise to quiet concern. "Wait, you went through what?" he asked softly, his usual bright demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.

You nodded, explaining briefly about your cheating ex, and he listened intently. "That’s awful. You deserve so much better than what they gave you."

When the song ended, he flasheed you a small, reassuring smile. "Let’s make some new memories with better songs, okay? You’re safe with me." 

masterlist

[vyliez]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 was it casual?

pt 2. to : why'd you only call me when you're high

pairings: se-mi x fem!reader

synopsis: fucking that shit attitude of hers out because what the fuck?

warnings: smut, sub!se-mi, fingering, pwp(?), pathetic!se-mi, squirting, edging. lmk more lolz

a/n: lord knows we need a sub se-mi in our life once in a while because whimpering and whining se-mi will make my phone switch from my right hand to my left :P also i'm shit at endings but wtv at least there's sub se-mi and i'm fine

the morning after, you decided to ask her when her head's clear. "se-mi?" you hummed as you watched her fumble into her clothes, your chin resting on your palm.

"yeah?" se-mi replies, looking down at you, all sprawled in bed, looking disheveled. she swallows her dry throat, trying to keep her thoughts pg-13 as she buckles the belt of her pants.

"about last night..." you started. you could see her pause before continuing on her ministrations. so she had noticed. good. or bad? you waited for her reply in silence as she tried to not meet your eye.

"it was nothing," she finally replied after a moment, looking dead into your eye, her face unreadable. "i was high,"

that made you scoff to yourself. "of course it was," you mumbled, your gaze fleeting downwards as you fiddle with the loose threads of your blankets. it always was nothing.

"hey," she says firmly, placing two fingers under your chin, making you look at her and meet her gaze. your eyes subconsciously wandered all over her face, as if it were memorizing every single eyelash and freckle for your suffering later in the dark. you swallowed hard, you watched how her piercings glinted against the open sunlight. fuck— why does she have to be so hot all the fucking time? it made you wonder what it'd be like to share something more than fucking with her.

"it was a mutual agreement between us," her voice snapped you out of your daze. "no feelings involved."

that made you swallow the lump in your throat, your heart sinking lower and lower deep into the trenches of your sorrow as se-mi lets go of you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as a farewell. "i'll see you when i see you, yeah?" she says, taking her jacket and opened the door to your room. "and remember, this thing between us is just casual," she says casually before closing the door behind her.

nothing was casual about it when you had her helpless on her own couch, squirming and crying as she begged and pleaded while your hands expertly circled her clit.

"b-baby... please, i'm sorry," she begged, sobbing as you denied her for the nth time that night. her hand tried to snake up your hips but you swatted it away. "no," you said firmly, which emitted a whimper from her pretty lips.

se-mi didn't know what she was apologizing for. all she knew that this was somehow a sort of punishment she did a while back. she whined softly, bucking her hips up to your hand for more friction after you ghosted your fingers over her clit. however, she shriveled when she saw your glare, her lips forming into a small pout, akin to a child that had been scolded by their parent.

her mind raced, trying to find the reason for this 'punishment'. surely it was nothing serious right? she traced the day's events in her mind. you messaging her you'd be around tonight, work, lunch, work, had some breakfast at this new diner—oh. her realization hit her like a ton of bricks, at the same time, you inserted two fingers easily through her tight walls, which made her moan loudly, her hand latching onto your arm, throwing her head back and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"ah- ah- ah," you tutted as you removed your fingers from inside her and swatted her hand away from your arm. "no touching unless you don't want to cum, do you understand?"

se-mi whined, her lower lip trembling, mumbling incoherent apologies. "princess— sweetheart... p-please... please, i'll be a good girl— i'll treat you better than before," she panted heavily, another set of tears forming in her eyes, ready to fall again. her begging fell deaf into your ears, however as you pinched her clit harshly. "do you understand?" you asked firmly, staring deep into her eyes.

se-mi yelped, tears down her cheeks. she nodded fervently, desperately grinding her hips down your hand. "words, darling," you cooed as you captured her lips with her, your tongue slid out to fiddle with the piercing on her lip, the metallic taste mixing with her usual taste of cigarettes in your mouth. you pulled away, making her whine and push forward to chase your lips. "words, se-mi. i want to hear words from you," you say, pressing a finger on her lips.

"please," her lower lip trembled, her eyes wide as begged. "i understand, just please..." she whispered.

"mmhm?" you hummed, capturing her lips again, sloppily kissing her as the lewd sounds of your fingers pushing in and out of her wet cunt filled the room. "fuck, you're like a waterfall at how wet you are right now," you gasped against her lips as you watched her wetness stain the couch below her.

"babe— princess— please..." she whined, rolling her eyes backward. "shhh, don't worry darling," you cooed running a hand through her damp hair, thrusting your fingers faster as you watched her build up her orgasm.

"i'm gonna— please—" se-mi pants loudly, gripping the blankets beneath her tightly as she lifted her hips, screaming your name.

"fuck, baby, that was so hot," you murmured amusedly as you watched her squirting.

"you think you can do that one more time?" you mumbled in her ear after she came down her high, running a hand through her hair lovingly.

safe to say after that, her attitude towards you had somehow changed. she'd stay with you in the mornings, make you breakfast, pick you up after work, and makes the best aftercare baths for you. she even asked you out on a proper date! all because you fucked that attitude out of her.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Something of note about Lilia's tarot spread is that—it's hers. The cards she pulls aren't precisely who the characters are to themselves, but who they are and what they represent to Lilia. As her coven, in her life.

Like, I don't really know my tarot that well—I'm just pulling themes from within the episode and my general understanding.

But when she was reading for Billy, he was fittingly represented by the Magician. But for Lilia, he was the “windfall.” He was the tower, reversed. Miraculous transformation. Because she, having put the sigil on him, saved him from the destruction and lead to his miraculous transformation. And to her, he was the windfall, because without him, she wouldn't be here, with her coven. She wouldn't have found herself.

Alice's is very straight forward—“full of fire, fights bravely.” It's how Lilia saw her, what Lilia had once again predicted for her. 'Wound suffered, lessons learned.' Specifically, Lilia wasn't able to warn Alice, but she learned her lesson. So, this time, she makes sure to warn Agatha. “When she calls you a coward, hit the deck.”

And why does she warn Agatha? Agatha represents her 'obstacles,' after all. Maybe so—Lilia's literal obstacle at this stage ends up being the Salem Seven, who merely want Agatha. Yet she chooses to stay behind to save a woman who probably wouldn't do the same for her. And the reason is—for her, Agatha is the Three of Swords. She looks at her and sees Heartbreak, (Rio) Sorrow, (Evanora) Grief (Nicholas). And Lilia is willing to forgive her—to sacrifice herself for her—even if the universe itself doesn't think she deserves it. This is different from how Agatha views herself, or even how Billy views her, since he initially pulls out the Chariot. One might say it's a random choice, but the Chariot is described as representing “determination, success, and control.” It's about overcoming challenges and gaining victory through maintaining control of your surroundings—which, I argue, embodies Agatha pretty well. So The Three of Swords is who Agatha is to Lilia. She doesn't hate her, or see her as a force to be reckoned with. She pities her. After all, the Queen of Cups is defined by her empathy.

Then, of course, Jen. Jen is Lilia's path ahead. Not only because she has a brilliant future of her own ahead of her in the mcu, now with her powers unbound. Because Lilia senses all the trapped light and bound power that Jen carries—“The High Priestess: Immense spiritual power, unable or unwilling to use it--” but also because Jen, the survivor, is the one who will carry on Lilia's memory. All those centuries, Lilia had been alone—there was no 'path ahead.' Everything was a jumbled mess, her “path” was non-linear and twisty. And Jen, after centuries of solitude, was her light in the dark, guiding her through the dark tunnels, as her mind wandered through her timeline searching for answers. Jen was the only person in centuries who bothered to see her as something more, to acknowledge her strength, and to help her fill in the gaps as best as she could. And so Lilia sees so much hope in Jennifer—who won't stop becoming better and better. Because for Jen, the Queen of Cups is her path behind. Wound suffered, lessons learned. “I couldn't save Lilia, I didn't even try to save Alice, I'll be damned if I let you two idiots die.”

Finally, Death, Rio. Well—it's obvious. In tarot, death isn't literal. It's mist often symbolic. Transformation, end of a cycle, new beginnings. Which is why we never see Lilia's corpse, and we never see Rio collect her. Because unlike Alice, Lilia went into the afterlife willingly. And for her, it was a beautiful release. After years of running out of time—she got to start anew—knowing that this time, she managed to save her coven. (I'd also like to think that the reason we don't see Rio collect Sharon is because it was a peaceful death—joining Mr. Davis instead of suffering further. Whereas Alice finally had something to live for, but I digress. I've already made my posts about Alice.)

I think that this is all relatively obvious—but I genuinely can't stop thinking about Lilia and her dynamics with the rest of the coven.

[womanofwords]

Frozen Heart (Part 4)

TW: hospitals, descriptions of injuries.

Alfred was consoling you in the hospital. "My dear, what have they done to you?" he murmured, as you sobbed tears of sorrow and pain. "You poor child, you didn't deserve this."

"Visiting time is over, Mr Pennyworth," a nurse said. "We can look after Y/N."

"I understand. I just hate to leave them alone," Alfred said. "Have a good night, nurse."

Alfred walked out of the ward you were on, taking a long route to keep in the hospital longer. That was when he walked by your siblings, and they were a mess. "Where's Y/N?" Tim demanded.

"Are you family?" an apathetic receptionist asked, blowing a bubble of gum right in his face.

"WHAT DO YOU CARE?" Tim screamed.

"I am their brother, and I demand you allow us to see them!" Damian screeched.

"I'll meet you at home," Alfred said, hoping none of them heard him.

They had.

The little idiots swooped down like vultures, screeching questions and accusations at him.

"You went without us?" Dick yelled.

"He ditched us on purpose!" Jason yelled. "Nobody notices the butler!"

"I bet he's telling them slanderous lies about how horrible we are!" Damian accused.

"How long have you known about Y/N's hospitalisation?" Bruce demanded to know.

Alfred dusted his suit off and stared his wards down. "In all honesty, I'm surprised you showed up. You could never make it to any of their school meetings or awards, but you deigned to appear here. Unfortunately, this is very bad timing. Visiting hours are over."

"Don't lie to us!" Stephanie insisted.

"I am not. And after your behaviour with the woman at the help desk, I have a hunch that you will escorted out by security." A small smirk tweaked the corners of Alfred's thin lips. "Anyway, like I said, I'll see you at home."

He didn't spare his wards a second glance, preferring to spend his time preparing the home for your return. He had to make sure something would suit your new needs, even if the people wouldn't.

Anyway, if he wanted to watch them get kicked out of the hospital, he'd search up their names to see if they'd ended up on TMZ. It would save him a phone call, at the very least.

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Taglist: @tinybrie, @bunniotomia, @kittzu, @justwannabecat, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @vanessa-boo.

[getaapologist]

More Geta x servant reader, how does he react when she’s upset? Like imagine reader trying to hide it cus she doesn’t think it should be such a big deal, but trying to suppress it only makes it worse, and she can barely hold it together to not cry in front of the emperor.

A/N: I'm not sure this is EXACTLY what you meant, but it's what came out. Hope you enjoy it!

[ prior servant!reader entry can be found here ]

“We have taken too much time, little lamb,” Geta teased, a large hand finding your hip, sliding slightly lower, around. Squeezing. “We will be late.”

A heat grew, as if it wasn’t quenched just ten minutes before.

“You will be late,” you corrected, pulling at the green fabric.

His amused grin could be seen in the mirror just over your shoulder. “Perhaps. But it is your fault.” 

A slight pull as he moved away, finally beginning to get dressed.

You looked down to the tray full of jewels, mostly his. Picking up a couple of smaller rings, you slid them on your fingers. Some thinner bracelets, too. Geta liked fiddling with them, spinning them where they sat on your wrists.

Lifting the necklace like it was the easiest choice in the world, you slipped it over your head. Because it was.

And it promptly clattered to the floor.

Confusion. Mild horror. 

It was painful to kneel down and scoop up the glittering strand, fingers combing through the embedded jewels to locate the reason. The cause.

A ring. Split. Almost as if wrenched apart, but how could that be?

“...Little lamb?” 

Geta’s voice was questioning, curious, as he stepped over to you.

“It is nothing,” you assured him, turning away, the gifted necklace’s broken clasp held between your fingers. You pressed hard, trying to force back the strange swelling of emotions at the sight of it.

It was just a necklace. You could imagine him saying that. You have others.

The amount of attachment you had to it was a surprise to even you. You wore it frequently without a second thought or awareness of how much it mattered to you. But as you felt the ring of metal that had split open pressing harshly into the pads of your fingers, you knew you would miss it terribly.

His large hands gripped your upper arms, turning you to face him, his face down near yours, eyes searching, fearful and cautious. 

“What is it?” 

As he spoke the words, his eyes fell to your hands, noticing what you held. How you were holding it. His fingers covered yours in an instant, gently prising the metal from them, examining it.

“It’s broken,” he commented.

“I do not know how it happened,” you mumbled, emotions bubbling up and spilling over, a few stray tears making their way down your face as you closed your eyes to the sight of it in his hands.

“Mea mellitula,” he soothed, a smile in his voice, “it is just a—”

Frustration. Sorrow. They were forced out as you interrupted him, eyes closed, brows drawn together. “It is not just a necklace.”

Silence filled the room. You missed the slight sting of the broken metal threatening to pierce the skin of your thumb. It was irrational, surely he wouldn’t understand. How could he?

The soft touch of his fingers to where your brows knit in anguish was unexpected. He pressed gently until the tension there dissipated. 

“This one in particular. It means something to you,” he realized. “Why?”

You opened your eyes, casting them down to look at the jeweled necklace, the pretty earthen tones matching quite a few of his rings. It took you a moment to piece it together, and a moment more to articulate it to him.

“It is the first thing you personally gifted me, Geta. I… It felt nice, knowing you thought of me.”

His face slid into a sly grin, the necklace set aside, forgotten. “Oh, my little lamb, I am always thinking of you.”

Your frown grew, the sentimentality lingering.

“Please, look at me,” he requested, his fingers finding your chin, your cheek, urging you to meet his amber eyes, glowing in the evening firelight. 

Reluctantly, you did. His hand on your cheek took the time to wipe away any lingering tears, swiping beneath your eyes gently, slowly. He didn’t speak until he was done.

“They can fix it. Would you like that?”

A slow nod.

He smiled, smoothing a hand over your hair. “There. No more tears.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to your temple before his hands left you. He stepped away, to where his clothing was stored.

Your eyes fell to where the necklace sat, still broken, on his desk, among papers and tablets. Drawings. Maps. As if it were another duty he was now responsible for. 

Looking over the tray of jewelry, the other options just felt wrong, even in light of everything. Not quite the right color. Too long. Too tight to the neck. 

This is ridiculous.

A thin wooden box was held before your eyes, interrupting your stewing.

“Here. I was saving this for… well, it doesn’t matter. Now’s as good a time as any.” 

You accepted the box. He sat on the edge of the vanity watching you, eyes darting from the box as you attempted to prise it open, up to your face, waiting for your expression.

As the lid lifted, the item inside glittered even more brightly than the other necklace. Stones of deep red, polished to shine, attached to a golden chain. It was beautiful. 

“Geta, this is…”

“Do you like it?” he asked, hopeful. 

As if you could ever dislike such a thing.

“I love it. Is this really for me?”

He smiled, something more than just affection in his eyes. “Of course it is. Here, let me put it on you.”

He pulled the shiny, new necklace from the box and stepped around you, pulling it slowly up over your collarbones, his knuckles brushing the back of your neck as he dealt with the clasp. Once it was secured, he smoothed his fingers along the golden chain, drawing the slack down until it sat right where it was meant to.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, bringing your hands up to touch it, adjusting it slightly. 

His arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. His eyes moved from the reflection of the necklace up to your face.

“Yes. Beautiful.”

[ more geta x servant!reader here ]

[inkspiredwriting]

The Diner of Destiny - Part 2

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Okay, some of you wanted a second part. So I thought why not? I've never written a second part to any of my stories, so I'm not so sure if the second part is any good.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Five wandered through the fractured remains of countless timelines, driven by a singular purpose: to find y/n, the woman he had unwittingly erased from existence. He had become a phantom, slipping between realities like a shadow, his resolve hardening with each failed attempt. Every timeline, every world was a dead end, a cruel reminder of the life he had obliterated with one careless choice. But giving up was never an option. He had to find her.

Weeks blurred into months as he tirelessly pursued the faintest hints of her existence. Fragmented memories, distorted whispers, and fleeting visions of a woman whose face he had never truly known. Each clue led him deeper into the labyrinth of time, and each step weighed heavier on his conscience. He was close—he could feel it.

Finally, one day, in a timeline that felt strangely still, as though it had been waiting for his arrival, Five found her.

She was sitting in a small, secluded garden, surrounded by overgrown ivy and vibrant flowers. The sun cast a warm, golden light over the scene, but there was an air of melancholy that clung to the place, as if it remembered the things that had been lost. Y/n was there, her back to him, her head bowed as she absentmindedly traced patterns in the dirt with a stick. She looked almost like a statue—beautiful, but untouchable, frozen in a moment that he had shattered.

Five approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. His footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, and y/n looked up, startled. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, agonizing moment, it was as though she recognized him. But then the flicker of familiarity vanished, replaced by confusion.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tinged with wariness but not fear. There was a gentleness in her tone that cut Five deeper than any anger could have.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. How could he explain the unimaginable? How could he make her understand what he had done?

“My name is Five,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not sure how to say this, but… you were supposed to be someone important to me. To all of us, actually. But I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I… I lost you.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words. “Lost me? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’ve never met before. How could you have lost me?”

Five’s chest tightened with the weight of his guilt. “You’re right. We’ve never met. But we should have. I was supposed to find you, fall in love with you. You were supposed to be my anchor, the person who kept me—and all the other versions of me—grounded across the timelines. But instead, I got involved with someone else, someone named Lila.”

At the mention of Lila’s name, Y/n’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Lila?” she echoed, the name unfamiliar and distant.

Five nodded, his voice trembling. “Yes. I thought I was making the right choice at the time, but it was the wrong one. Choosing Lila… it erased you from our lives. You were supposed to be there, and because of me, you weren’t. I took away your life, your future, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception or malice. But all she saw was a man haunted by his mistakes, a man who had come to her not for forgiveness, but for something even more elusive.

“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with a sorrow she didn’t fully understand.

Five closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I can make things right, but I had to find you. I had to tell you what happened, even if it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for what I took from you, for what I took from all of us. I just… I wanted you to know that you mattered. That you were supposed to matter.”

Y/n looked down at the ground, her hand still clutching the stick. She was silent for a long time, and Five feared that his words had only hurt her more, that there was nothing left to say. But then, she spoke, her voice soft and distant.

“Do you really believe we could have been happy?” she asked, almost to herself.

Five’s heart ached at the question, at the lost possibility of what could have been. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I would have liked to find out.”

Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. “I can’t remember you,” she said softly. “But something in me feels… something. Maybe it’s just the idea of what could have been. Or maybe… maybe there’s something more.”

Five watched her, his breath catching in his throat. This was it—the moment that could change everything. But even as hope flickered within him, he knew the truth. He had come too late. The damage was done, and there was no going back.

“I wish I could change what happened,” he whispered. “But all I can do is tell you the truth. You deserved so much more than what I left you with.”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that went beyond words. “Maybe we were never meant to be,” she said quietly. “Maybe… maybe this was always how it was supposed to end.”

Five shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But it’s what I’ve made it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n stood slowly, the stick falling from her hand as she faced him fully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I appreciate that you tried to make things right. Even if it’s too late.”

Five nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he met her gaze. “I’ll never stop trying to make it right,” he vowed. “Even if I never see you again, I’ll keep looking for a way to fix this.”

Y/n gave him a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of acceptance and resignation. “Goodbye, Five,” she said softly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the distance. Five stood there, alone in the garden, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He had found her, but he had also lost her—again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a blanket of twilight, Five knew that this was his burden to bear. He had made a choice, and now he would live with the consequences for the rest of his existence. The woman who was supposed to be his anchor, his salvation, was gone, and he was the one who had pushed her away.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of regrets, Five turned and walked back into the shadows, disappearing from the world that could have been his. The timelines would go on, fractured and unstable, and he would continue his endless search for redemption. But deep down, he knew the truth—some things could never be undone. And some losses were meant to be permanent.

The garden, now empty and silent, bore witness to a moment that had passed, a possibility that had slipped through time’s fingers. And as the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Five’s silhouette faded into the night, carrying with him the memory of what could have been, and the sorrow of what never was.

[afsosville]

You know what would've been nice? Shen Jiu ending up on a different peak that's actually good for him. Maybe Qian Cao, or the beast taming peak could've been hella therapeutic. Or the alcohol/brewery peak to drown away all his sorrows. But what if he stayed fucked up, in a way that's actually good and productive for society? Yeah, I wanna toss him over to Yin Hui and let him run wild! I've seen many iterations of Yin Hui, the fanon peak for espionage and poisons in fanfics. By extension, Yin Hui is also covertly the assassination peak, and I wish this peak got more attention around here tbh. Why do I think this peak is the most well suited for Shen Jiu? BECAUSE ASSASSINS. Duh.

So here comes a baby demonic cultivator Shen Jiu and the Yin Hui peak lord immediately wants him. Shen Jiu would be more readily accepted by his peak martial siblings, and no one would bat an eye at Shen Jiu, his standoffish personality or shady past. A lot of Yin Hui disciples are from questionable backgrounds since the Yin Hui peak lord naturally has to be very particular about selecting their disciples. Yin Hui was established to protect the sect and its people by any means necessary. Sure, the rest of the sect may fight against the supernatural, demons, and the undead, but Yin Hui fights an even greater monster: people.

The Yin Hui peak lord manipulated things so that the first impression the rest of the sect has about Shen Jiu is 'that new badass Yin Hui disciple that killed the criminal Wu Yanzi and saved the future sect leader!' (Seeing as Wu Yanzi would be the very sort of ppl they assassinate, he's already getting goated on Yin Hui too.) So Shen Jiu is known as that new prodigious disciple from Yin Hui and is getting some goddamn respect! And just because of his association with his peak, fewer people are inclined to question his background and whatnot since there's an understanding that the identity of the YH disciples needs to be heavily guarded. The Yin Hui peak lord finds out about the Qiu's soon enough, and they erase any and all traces leading back to Shen Jiu. Even framing it in a way that makes it look like WY did the massacre. Any credibility Qiu Haitang could've had for Shen Jiu's murder accusations is thrown out the window. (Ain’t no way in hell the Yin Hui peak lord is going to name SJ that stupid trauma inducing name like a certain Qing Jing peak lord, that's for sure.)

I'm pulling in elements from MDZS over here. In my version of Yin Hui, they have disciples who practice demonic cultivation, but they make sure it's in a safer way that won't hurt them. There's a surprising number of disciples who have damaged cultivation and chose to cultivate the ghost path. The previous generations of Yin Hui peak lords have created Wei Wuxian's inventions in this AU, and is used by the rest of the peak, like the compass of ill winds, paper metamorphosis, the spirit attraction flag, and empathy. I lowkey want a Wei Wuxian that's native to SV to be the Yin Hui peak lord, now that I think about it. He's good with his kiddos and would be an awesome shizun. And ofc, Shen Jiu is a reflection of his environment, so he's certainly making an example out of Wei Wuxian, one of the only positive influences in his life.

Shen Jiu still has his violent tendencies, so nothing has changed about that, but he learns to take that pent-up energy out on missions instead. And he does them well. It even gives him an edge. Everyone else thinks he's just reallyyy good at his job, as expected of the talented head disciple of Yin Hui!!

He really does try his best to not be an ass (bc he gets the love he deserves on Yin Hui) and ends up venting in a different way (coz he knows better than to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.) His shizun really gave him the free reign to kill sl@ve trad3rs, human tr@ffick3rs, r-ists, and other scum whenever he wanted, in the name of stress relief lol. If killing a particular person becomes politically complicated, like the Old Palace Bastard, then you best believe he's going to scheme like the little schemer he is. He's going to Nie Huaisang the OPM.

Since Shen Jiu is not salty about his fucked up cultivation, and his martial siblings respect him, they get along just fine. His cultivation is some parts similar to Wei Wuxian's: Shen Jiu is a ghost cultivator influenced by music. Sure, he may not be that great of a spiritual cultivator, so what? He's pulling up like the Yiling Patriarch with his demonic cultivation and a haunted guqin of his own.

And guess what? Shen Jiu enjoys teaching. He's training miniature assassins, spies, and the art of demonic cultivation, so forgive him if he's more than a little enthusiastic about it. I imagine that he's exactly like Shifu from kung fu panda when it comes to teaching. Still extremely harsh and strict when training, but outside of actually teaching, he's an attentive and caring shizun. And yes, he completely does act like a father figure who is proud of his murder babies, and ends up being called A-Ba so much that all of Cang Qiong thinks he's officially adopted every single one of his disciples. (After being saved by SJ on a mission, NYY persistently begs SJ to take her in even though he desperately thinks Yin Hui isn't a good fit for her. And then, after being under him for a while, she's completed her first mission successfully, has smn else's blood on her face, and is smiling brightly. 

Ning Yingying: "I completed my mission shizun! Are you proud of me?"

Shen Jiu: "..."

Some other peaklord: "Haha like father like daughter! She's definitely your girl alright!"

Shen Jiu: "...!?!" )

Yue Qingyuan is conerneth about his Xiao Jiu, but as long as he's happy, who cares. Shen Jiu has a better relationship with the other peak lords, so when asked about why he visits brothels, he straight up tells them that it's the best place to gather information in the dark. He doesn't have that mentality of "why explain myself when no ones finna believe me anyway" He actually trusts them and is more honest with time. Shen Jiu does come clean about killing the Qiu's at some point, and the peak lords are all like-

"I didn't hear shit"

"See, I'm blind in my left eye, and 75% blind in my right-"

"Completely understandable, Shen shidi!"

They don't even ask why he did it and just assume he had a valid reason, and he absolutely fucking did.

Oh, Shen Jiu gets accused of playing dirty? Liu Qingge, he literally kills ppl and makes poison as a daytime fucking job ofc he's gonna play dirty! Shen Jiu tried killing you that one time on the well mission? Bro you good? The fact that you think he tried to kill you and failed?? You just insulted an entire peak of disciples and their ancestors. You would've been dead before you could even think of sensing their killing intent if it were true. And there was a witness too, doofus. Be fucking for real. Nahh coz there definitely would be more people who are taking Shen Jiu's side whenever the two of them fight.

Shen Jiu uses a shit ton of versatile weapons because most of his fighting and cultivation prowess comes from his wits and adapting to fighting with different styles/methods. He is kinda similar to Xie Lian bc both of them lack spiritual energy/qi (damaged spirit roots in Shen Jiu's case), but that does not mean they are weaker. It just means they learned to train their body and minds instead of relying on cultivation/qi. He has a massive arsenal of weapons along with the demonic cultivation. (Airport security would hate him)

Yin Hui has got to be my favorite fanon peak, and Yin Hui! Shen Jiu plauges so many of my waking thoughts, I can't stop-

I can add elements from my other hyperfixation into this AU, the Avatar Chronicles. Which are the written books from ATLA. The criminal organization Kyoshi joined, the Daofei, for example, could be a good plot point. Or the Platinum Affair from the Yangchen books. If you don’t know what the Avatar Chronicles are, just ignore this last part lol.

[asce-of-hearts]

Yandere Shanks with a kidnapped reader and „There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you.“ „Please stop crying, I did this for your own safety.“ and „I know you need space but I want to be close to you.“

Maybe the crew visited her Island a lot and Shanks fell in love and asked her to join him but she wanted to stay on her Island and pursue her dreams of becoming a psychologist… and there’s also a age gap since she is in her early 20s.❤️

Infatuation

Contents: Yandere!Shanks with prompts: 💨🌳🐌 (fem!reader)

more Shanks content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: YANDERE, KIDNAPPING.

"You can't just... brute force your way around things, Shanks," You say between sobs as you sit over the bed inside his chamber in his ship, the sea is all that surrounds you both, you feel dizzy from all the back and forth rocking of the boat. "God, how could you even do this? I thought you were... I- I don't know, mature enough to understand what I wanted."

Shanks can feel the slightest bit of guilt at seeing you cry so desperately, he knows you had dreams, dreams of comfort and quiet, and if he didn't aspire to that same thing then your dreams didn't include him. But he couldn't bear the thought of being away from you, of you finding another man to love and care for, to give yourself to. He couldn't, it filled him with sorrow and rage. He can only sigh, rubbing your back in a comforting gesture.

"I... I understood," he starts to try and justify himself, only to give up halfway. "I just... I don't know, ___. I love you, I really do love you. And love is... confusing, and maddening in a certain sense. I guess what I mean is... There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you. And this is just one of the many things I'm willing to do to keep you by my side."

"Kidnapping is 'one of the things you're willing to do'. Are you actually insane?" You retaliate, your face all puffy now from how much you've been crying. It's kinda cute, makes him blush, he only pushes your face against his chest, trying to help you calm down, he only earns his freshly washed shirt dampening by you crying.

"I suppose," he answers rather sheepishly, staring at the ceiling as he keeps his arm wrapped around your vulnerable form, hushing you softly. "Well, no, insane is not the word I would use. That's a strong expression. I may be a little... possessive, slightly delusional, maybe I've drank too much salt water in my life time." He tries to lighten the mod, earning himself a death glare from your behalf. You sniffle as you face him again.

"Salt water doesn't have any side effects that include kidnapping your ex-girlfriend when she asks you to break up because you're too busy playing pirate for her to enjoy." You try and remain firm, instead, you burst into crying once more just seconds after, hiding your face in Shanks' chest again.

"Please stop crying, I did this for your own safety..." He whispers, hushing you once more, pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

"How am I safer in a pirate's ship than inside my home?" You ask, sobbing.

"Because you're with me," he growls, his jealousy getting the better of him, his grip around you tightens. "Because I can make sure you're safe, by my side, forever, ___." There's an awkward silence after those words are said, you stand up, decided to go and get some fresh air. He grabs you by the wrist, looking desperate as he stops you from leaving.

"I need to breathe."

"I know," he sounds so urgent, like he's about to cry himself, hypocrite. "I know. I'm sorry. I know you need space but I want to be close to you." You both look at each other, a fight for dominance, one neither of you win. You both just stand there.

"I hate you." You murmur, sitting back down on his bed, facing the wall as you lay down. He chuckles.

"I know," He whispers, laying down beside you, closing his eyes as he rests his head on the nape of your neck.

"But I would hate myself more if I let anybody else have you."

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great day/night

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[rexhya]

boss at work nanami —- modern office au.

the office crew go to celebrate the end of a years hard work and share drinks!!! reader gets super drunk, boss nanami lets down his cold exterior?!

risky celebration — ✦ ✦

warn — none

incl — nanamin ;> ♡ + bonus texts !

It was around 7pm when you were dragged into the end of year celebration your company was holding, if you were being honest, it was a much needed reward after an entire year of excel spreadsheets and annoying customers you had to deal with.

"[Name] you made it!" Gojo said excitedly, causing a few of many heads to turn towards you and cheer drunkenly, the party had already gotten started.

"Yeah, couldn't miss out on free beer and barbecue now could I?" you laughed taking a seat quietly next to him. Before Gojo could respond another eruption of cheers occurred when Nanami, your boss walked into the room. You were surprised, it wasn't typical of him to attend any gatherings no matter the occasion but you were happy to see him nonetheless. He took a seat next to you before greeting the rest of his employee's ( not Gojo, which made you laugh ).

You looked at his appearance, chiseled jaw, his tie was undid slightly and wrinkled lines under his eyes that gave you the impression he was in much need of a break as well. You'd never understand how Gojo could annoy the man so easily, although he was patient, you never pick up on how the white haired freak was able to cross the fine line between a friend and being a nuisance to the man. You guessed it was because they had been working together for so long.

The barbecue was passed around slowly and you were starting to feel awkward as Gojo socialized with everyone but you. You glanced at Nanami's face trying to converse, "You should give a speech," you whispered and Nanami's cold dead eyes switched to you.

"Well I'm not sure I have it in me after this year." he sighed.

"Oh," you coughed. How embarrassing, it was obvious he wasn't in the mood for talking, and after dealing with everything and now you, you should have known better. The night continued on like this, everyone else partying their asses off, Nanami sitting quietly drinking his beer and you trying to be as sociable as he would allow. You felt awkward, sipping your sorrows away eventually it led for a very delirious and confusing night.

You were completely plastered, to say the least.

"Wooo, go 'Toru!" You cheered quietly, he was standing in the middle of the room, champagne bottle in hand singing his heart out. Nanami rolled his appropriately.

Satoru, who'd had a keen eye on you pointed in the air, "Okay, this one goes out to my favorite girl." and began mockingly doing a peace sign between his tounge, your co-workers erupted in shouts, Gojo was as usual teasing you but it made you blush nonetheless. Next to you Nanami squinted his eyes but you hadn't noticed, continuing to clap clueless as he sung.

Eventually things had simmered down, most people had already headed home and so It was just you, your boss, Gojo and a few stragglers left. You were stumbling your way to your car when Nanami stopped you.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked his arms crossed.

Your heart jumped in anxiety, had you done something? If you didn't you hadn't a clue what it was. "H-home?"

"Not like that you aren't, your extremely intoxicated."

A beat of silence passed before you had It in your right might to say something.

"Well then, how will I get home?" You asked softly, your words slightly slurred. Nanami cleared his throat before speaking.

"Well, I could drop you off, if you're okay with it of course." you beamed at him so brightly he almost took your cheeks and squished them between his palms right then and there.

"That would be wonderful, yes, thank you!"

He led you to his car thoughtfully, he'd messes up at the party. His attempt at a joke had come out flat and you didn't speak with him for the rest of the night (understandably) this was his chance to smooth things over, you sat in the car, struggling to buckle you seat.

Nanami watched the clip miss the slot 3 times before deciding to waft his smoky vanilla scent into your presence and help you, smiling politely as he did it. You tried not to smile, instead giving him this dopey look of pleasure instead.

"Thanks haha."

"Not a problem."

The two of you sat quietly in the car, Nanami stressing over a way to make himself seem less..distant should he say.

"So–"

"I–"

You both started, and laughed. "You go first." he said.

"I was going to uhm, apologize for earlier ya' kno' i didn't mean ta' pressure you into speaking i was just trying to socialize and yeah." you nodded to yourself proudly like you'd been rehersing it in your head all night. (you had)

"Oh there's nothing to apologize for, I was only joking when i had said that, it was nothing personal." he stated glancing at your figure in the passenger's seat.

"Really? your voiced sounded watery, and soo enough you were crying, "We'll that's great because I honestly thought you'd hated me for the longest especially after today, gosh i'm just so lonely nowadays it's just really reassuring to know someone around here likes me ya' kno'".

Kento face paled at your tears, it was obvious yiu were an emotional drunk which was on a side note: adorable but what had confused him more the words yous said to him.

"Miss. [Name], you mean to tell me you're lonely?"

You nodded, sniffing and hicing slightly, "Well, yeah I mean, It's not like I really talk to anyone besides 'Toru and a couple others. Even then were not that close.."

Now he was even more confused, "Really, you and Gojo aren't close? Then what was that thing about, eailer when he was singing for you."

You sputtered, suddenly very aware that this was your boss you were talking to. "Oh well, you know. He just likes to tease me as usual, it doesn't meant anything. And anyway's Nanami aren't the two of you closer? I havent a clue how he gets away annoying you like that."

"Call me Kento. And yes, well, we are close. I just had no idea that you were too."

"I see."

You and Nanami rode the rest of the trip in silence, eventually reaching your house seeing as you tripping over the stairs on you way out of the party Nanami decides to help you in. His chest is warm and you try to focus on the steps to help. When you finally reach the steps Nanami is disappointed, he'd got so caught up in his own mind he'd forgotten ther'd be a time you'd actually have to leave.

"Well," he started, "I suppose this is good—" but he didn't get to finish before a sloppy wet kiss was placed on the corner of his mouth.

"Goodnight Kento, I wish you a wonderful evening."

"You to—" he was cut off my he loud slam of a door.

++ bonus !!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(Looks at lucius all lovey and a bit sad,,,)

Professor Trein would it be okay to pet or hold Lucius? I used to live with cats my whole life... But, you know, the whole, uh... Stuck in a different world thing.

He's also so fluffy,,,,, uuuu I'm just itching to squish his lil face,,, 🥺

A Storied Past.

Your peers often said that Trein was one of the strictest instructors in all of Night Raven College. He was a notorious stickler for the rules, demanded complete attention for his lessons, and lectured students incessantly on wearing their uniforms properly. It didn’t help that his face always looked as though it were frowning in disapproval.

But you saw it just then. The lifting of his brows, the way his grey eyes twinkled with sympathy. Something soft and warm and grandfatherly, like a well-worn blanket enveloping you.

“Of course,” Trein replied, gently depositing a black and white heap onto your lap. Lucius seemed to spill like a slow waterfall, folds of fat and fur folding onto you. “You may cuddle with him for as long as you like.”

Your heart leapt.

“R-Really?!”

“Really.”

With an exhale, Trein lowered himself into a seat beside you, his hands folding in his own lap. He emulated the very poise and decorum he expected of his students.

Trein fixed his gaze on you as you sank your fingers into Lucius’s fur. You half anticipated him to scold you for some minor infraction—not stroking in the right area, doing it with too much or too little force—but the scolding never came. Instead, he simply… watched as you languidly ran a hand up and down his familiar’s back.

A contented purr, like that of a low engine, kicked up. Approval from the cat.

Courage collected.

You dared to prod Lucius’s face. When he reacted with only a quiet mew, you bravely squished both cheeks with your thumb and index finger.

“Mrrrow.”

“Awww, you’re such a good kitty, Lucius!” you cooed. “No wonder why Professor Trein dotes on you.”

“… Do you miss them?” he inquired suddenly. The question, throwing you for a loop. You were thinking that he’d stay silent and simply supervise the entire time you played with the feline.

“Do I miss…?”

“Your own cats,” he clarified. “You kept them in your household in your home world?”

“Yeah.” You didn’t like how that one word came out wobbling like jello, didn’t like how vulnerable you sounded. “I miss them every day. I’m sure they’re being taken care of while I’m gone but…”

A lump had formed in your throat, and it was difficult to swallow. The space was left standing, waiting doe sound to fill it.

“I see.” Trein nodded attentively, picking up the conversation where you had left off. “That is understandable. Our animal companions are like family to us. I would be beside myself, were I to be separated from my beloved Lucius for who knows how long.”

For who knows how long…

You forced yourself to take a breath. A deep one, as if you were going to plunge into the ocean a second later.

“Professor, please be honest with me. Do you… Do you think I’ll ever be able to go home?” you asked, your voice the smallest it had ever been.

Your hand upon Lucius tensed. You tried to focus on him—his fluffiness, and the comfort and safety that it provided. If you could, you’d leap into a cloud of cat fur and bury yourself in it.

“… That, I cannot promise you,” Trein murmured. “However, I’m certain that the headmaster is doing everything in his power to search for a way for you to return.”

You fell silent. Hand on autopilot, absentmindedly stroking Lucius. Distracting yourself from the truth that you had been presented with.

“… It is alright to feel uneasy. Anyone would be in your situation,” came Trein’s calm reassurance. “You find yourself in an unknown land, surrounded by strangers. These are unusual circumstances, to be sure.

“You must allow yourself to feel sorrow and frustration. They are normal aspects of life, of being human. Let it out. Be sad, be angry. Do what you must to relieve yourself.”

He reached out, gingerly grasping your shoulder. Firm, with a slight tremble.

“When my daughters moved out of our home, I was overcome with great grief and loneliness. The house felt too large for one man. The corridors became roads that stretched for too long. I can only imagine you are going through something akin to that.

“Remember that you are never alone. That there is a light at the end of the tunnel, should you hold out for it. And… if you are ever in need of someone to listen, my door is always open for you.”

He attempted at a smile and only succeeded in half of one. Still, it warmed you to your core, almost wetting your eyes.

Maybe… Professor Trein isn’t so bad after all.

[tsukkilody]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— bloody muse ── .✦ leone abbaccio

cw/notes: blood a lot of it, blood play, blood eating, fembodied gn!reader, fingering, pussy eating, reader is part of bucci gang, their relationship isn't specified but personally i like them as fwb, barely edited. i had too may thoughts about period sex with this man and this happened.

wc: 2,1k

He notices you trying to hide the discomfort, but as subtle as you think you're being, it's obvious that you're in pain, cursing under your breath and flinching, clutching your lower stomach.

He understands there's little you can do about it, but he'd be lying if he said your discomfort wasn't starting to annoy him.

Clicking his tongue, he leaves the wine glass he was nursing and gets up from the kitchen table, approaching you with crossed arms. "Go rest or something other that doesn't have you squirming around."

He sounds harsh, but you know him, being able to read in between lines. He doesn't really mean it in that way; he's worried, doesn't like seeing you in pain. How sweet... too sweet coming from him.

"I'm fine, there's stuff I gotta get done an-" Your face twitches as your body contracts unwittingly, another cramp, great.

He scoffs a cynical laugh. "Yeah, I see how you're alright." He rolls his eyes before placing them upon yours again. "Bucciarati wouldn't have you doing stuff if he knew, so go rest and stop with your bullshit. He'll understand."

You sigh in defeat; he's right after all.

He hasn't moved from in front of you yet, so your eyes can't help but linger, taking in how his forearms flex against his broad chest while crossed, pale skin shining through the straps adorning the front of his coat. You swallow hard.

Your period doesn't only have you in pain but in extra neediness, and Abbacchio doesn't let this go unnoticed.

He shifts the weight from one leg to the other and takes a small step, close enough so that now he's towering over you. His frown shifts to a more relaxed expression, raising an eyebrow and the shadow of a smirk taunting to come out at the corner of his lips.

"You're staring..." He tilts his head. "More like fucking me with your eyes, I would say, not so subtle."

You can't deny the obvious. Why would you anyway? You're enjoying it, and he seems to be too.

Your body knows best as it gravitates towards him almost unconsciously. He uncrosses his arms and embraces your waist with one of them; the other travels towards your face, firmly grabbing your jaw, but it suddenly crushes you, another period cramp.

You curse under your breath as he holds you in place, and you only lean more into him, craving that so much needed warmth.

"Easy there..." He caresses your cheek with his thumb.

Enjoying too much that weird display of affection from him since it doesn't happen very often, you let yourself rest your head on the crook of his neck.

You inhale deeply, and oh god, he smells too good. It makes you want to rub your face against that spot, so you do, just before starting to leave a trail of little kisses on the base of his neck. You need to feel him even closer, your eagerness is only growing, but you click your tongue and pull apart in sorrowfulness.

His hold on you doesn't dare to falter, his brow still raised but now it's showing more confusion than anything else.

"As much as I want to... I'm still on my period..." you say, gazing away from him.

The arch on his brow curves more dramatically, the usual slightly annoyed look returning to his pretty face. "What are you implying?" Your eyes make their way to stop upon his again, he seems almost offended. "That I wouldn't want to do anything just because you're on your period? Seriously?"

That takes you by surprise. Usually, people will find it gross, that's for sure. Turns out the guy in front of you doesn't really seem to think the same.

You can’t do much but stare, your cheeks are flushed, mouth ajar trying to search for any words to say, but nothing comes up.

"Do you recall any instance of me being scared by some blood? C'mon, I've seen way worse, and you know that." His expression softens again, but it also darkens, and it makes your breath get caught for a second.

You lick your lips and faintly shake your head.

“Then let me take care of you.” His intense purple gaze pierces through you. “Heard orgasms help with cramps.” You feel his hold on you tighten, and just like that, you let him lead the way as you relax in his arms.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In theory, it doesn't even sound that bad to him. Like he said, blood wouldn't even make him flinch, too used to it, either him or his teammates covered by it, their own or some that spilled from others.

But with it being your blood, he seems to care even less, doesn't matter period or not.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It usually doesn’t go like this. There’s always eagerness and impatience when it comes to the intimacy you share together, the stress of your frenetic lifestyles urging your bodies to act almost instinctively when you entangle yourselves with the other, too impulsive to slow down.

But now he’s taking his sweet time with you. Must be the fact that he doesn’t want to make the pain worse, he’s there to help with it. Today is not all about carnal desire but your pleasure.

After leading you to his room and laying you down on the bed, he’s spent a good amount of time making out with you, letting you melt within his sloppy kisses and wandering hands that lifted your shirt just above your chest, freeing it. So now his mouth can focus on there, leaving a trail of black lipstick marks where his lips press and suck, while playing with your breasts, fondling them softly and circling the extra sensitive skin of your nipples, making you gasp.

The trail of black marks continues down your stomach, losing pigment as they go. It’s ticklish, in a good way. You bite your lips at the sight, watching how he hovers over the elastic of your shorts before pulling them down with your underwear.

He hooks each of your knees on top of his thighs, and when he finally gets to open your legs and take a good look at your core, it's like something awakens inside him.

It's so messy. There's something so dark and thrilling about it that brings out the most obscure and twisted thoughts to his mind. He finds himself licking his lips at the sight of your center and inner thighs shining, smeared in crimson.

There’s an image forming in his head, and he wants to see that come to life, be able to witness it with his own eyes. It's only about to get messier.

He drags one of his palms through your slit. Such direct, sudden touch tears a broken moan out of you. Thankfully, it’s just you two in the safe house.

The blood mixed with your arousal creating a beautiful contrast against the pale skin of his hand, he smears it on your thigh with a long stroke, staining your own skin with the imprint of his hand in your own fluids, almost covering your whole up and inner thigh.

He repeats the same action with your other thigh, getting you covered in blood, a delightful view, exactly what he envisioned… no, more.

You flinch again, feeling confused for a second, but it only takes a look at him to understand.

You can hear how his breath is getting heavy, the look in his eyes darkening even more if possible. He seems like a beast that just took down its prey and it’s about to devour it, which only turns you on even more, making your core ache.

With one hand, he starts circling your clit, careful not to let himself just go ravish. With the other, he toys around your entrance, barely entering it with his fingertips, gathering the blood that’s spilling from your insides so he can, once again, paint your skin with it, now grasping his fingers random lines across your stomach.

“You look so fucking hot like this…. my god” He keeps the pace around your swollen bud, but increases the pressure just a tad, enough to make your eyes roll back and for your whines to get louder.

The same two fingers that covered you in more blood make their way to your hole again, but now they don’t hesitate. He inserts them right away, making you yelp in satisfaction. He works them in a hooking motion that's hitting right on your g-spot, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your whole nervous system.

Each time he pumps his fingers, there's blood that spills out of you, pooling in his hand.

If he keeps going like this, both hands abusing your most sensitive areas, it won’t take you too long to reach your climax, but he pulls out his fingers from inside you. The ones on your clit don’t stop, though.

With said free hand, covered in your blood, he doesn’t think twice before grabbing one of your breasts, then drags it through your sternum until it reaches your stomach, staining your upper body. You exhale, mouth agape, and he looks at you as if you were the most beautiful work of art, though right now, to his eyes, you are.

When he detaches his palm from your body, he looks at it for a second. There’s just a bit of the remains of you around his fingers. An idea crosses his mind, kind of a twisted one, but it wouldn’t be the first time his mouth tastes blood, it being his own. But your blood… makes it only sound better.

He looks at you in the eyes, the fingers on your clit never abandoning you, as he puts the ones of his other hand inside his mouth, sucking on them. Your eyes shoot open. “Do—don’t do that! AH—!” The fingers that have been glued to your clit suddenly strike your insides, pounding harder than before. He stops sucking for a second, just to shush you, and you can’t help it. It is too damned hot. If you really wanted to stop him, you would.

He gets your legs off the top of his upper thighs and accommodates himself between them, facing your core, body against the bed as he lowers his head. Whites locks of his hair fall in front of his face, getting in the way. He grunts, and suddenly the greenish glowing aura that indicates he’s using his stand envelops around his body. An upper torso version of Moody Blues materializes behind him. The stand’s hands grab the annoying strands and bring them back together with the rest of the hair, holding it in a low ponytail. You observe the whole scene unfold and can’t help but scoff a little laugh in between moans since his fingers are still pounding in you.

Now that nothing’s in his way, he finally can lower his face and get his mouth in between your folds, sucking heavily on your clit. The metallic taste that mixes with your sweet arousal instantly invading his taste buds, it makes him roll his eyes and rut his hips against the sheets.

The speed of his fingers inside you grows faster. With his other hand, he grabs your shaking hips so he can keep them in place, squeezing hard.

Your skin feels like it's about to combust. You’d been on edge for too long.

One of your hands is grabbing onto the sheets so hard that your knuckles whiten, the other gets entangled in Abbacchio’s hair, brushing against Moody Blues’ its grip.

“Leone!—f-f-fUCK!” Your hips roll against his face, seeking that last bit of something to send you over the edge. He laps at your clit and pumps his fingers until they hurt, watching you get undone, screaming in bliss, body covered in his palm imprints with your own blood, one of the most intense orgasms that you’ve ever experienced running through your body.

He accommodates himself, resting on his elbows, looking at the mess he’s made of you, and a devilish smile forms on his lips. Moody Blues vanishes, letting his hair fall down again.

When you come down from your high and take in the very messy state of the man right in front of you, your stomach jumps.

“You are!—fucking crazy!” Disbelief written all over your face, but it surely happened. His glistening lips and chin covered in the remains of your blood are enough proof.

It’s definitely a sight to be seen, so sensual in a way, you gotta admit, his pale skin, long silver hair and piercing eyes, face and hands smeared in blood, just like a vampire, suits him too damn much.

“You better not keep squirming around in pain now.” He gets up and wipes his mouth with his forearm. “If you don’t want this to happen again, of course.”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

[regulusrules]

A very long meta explaining why the confession scene in Good Omens is the best that has ever been written and performed on screen

First of, the scene begins with two different realisations that makes each of them believe that their dynamic will significantly change (Crowley wanting to confess his love and Aziraphale wanting to break out the news about heaven). This, you can see, creates an unprecedented shift in their energy, makes them super excited (Azi) and super nervous (Crowley) to break the news to one another. And despite the two matters being drastically different, when Aziraphale begins his revelation we don't get the Miscommunication trope where Crowley listens to the offer and passively retreats back his emotions. No. He is steadfast in his resolution, in his love for Aziraphale.

And that right here is king attitude no.1, because even if Aziraphale just threw something so godforsaken on him, he won't allow himself to be cowardly or let go of the one person he loves more than eternity. Crowley still bares his heart, still lets it all out, because he will not lose Aziraphale in his naivete of still believing that Heaven is good and Hell is evil. (I write this with supreme detachment of my own beliefs lol) He tries to make Aziraphale understand that sides didn't do them any good the past 6000 years, that the only solid foundation they ever had was them, and that Crowley would rather have them than have everything.

The way you hear Tennant's voice breaking when he said “And we spent our whole existence pretending that we aren’t”, is the perfect reflection of how Crowley genuinely despairs the time they lost and wouldn't have any more of it. And even with how bare and raw he's feeling with revealing all this, he still goes on. He still tries to tell him and I would like to spend our whole existence together, but struggles and struggles because he's strung wide open. But he keeps trying.

Now you see here a moment of disbelief on Aziraphale's behalf, because he doesn't understand why Crowley would refuse going back to heaven with him when all Aziraphale remembers of Angel!Crowley was how utterly bright his eyes shone when he lit up the stars and surely Crowley must miss that too? He wants the same thing Crowley is saying, just in a different dimension. The “I can make a difference” immediately changes to “We can make a difference” because that's all what’s ever been for Aziraphale; them changing the small engines of the world according to their partnered will. He is genuinely benign and not ill-intentioned when he says “Nothing lasts forever”, because he truly wants a better life for them, a better existence. And that's when it gets better: Crowley has his walls back up, he's walking away, because he can't bear that he was never enough as he is for Aziraphale. That he was never worth reciprocation.

But Aziraphale doesn't let him leave.

And that is king attitude no.2, because he doesn't want Crowley to leave when things are strewn all over the place that they don't know where they stand. All Aziraphale ever wanted was for them to stand on the same ground. He asks him to come back to him but hides it by finishing it with “to heaven!” because the whole conversation is going too fast for him, and he's undergoing a religious crisis of sorts that does not end in 6000 years, yet even so he still doesn't want to lose Crowley because he's everything he has and he can't do it without him and “I — I need you!”

And that's when it gets reaaally interesting. Aziraphale's expression then turns from sorrowful desperation to rageful desperation, because he's baring his heart and Crowley is walking away from him. Their solid ground is completely shaken when he says “I don't think you understand what I'm offering you” because he's trying to be subtle about his love for Crowley and still direct as much as he can, but Crowley responds with a condescending “I think I understand a whole lot better than you do” and if this isn't peak human beings in their arguments, I don't know what is. Because we all think we are so misunderstood every time we get into an argument with someone we love, and we absolutely despise it when we feel patronized, so it's no wonder Aziraphale bitterly says “Then there's nothing more to say”, because if Crowley understands, truly does, then he'd see right past his fear to how much he loves the ground Crowley walks over.

And on the other hand I don't believe Crowley truly meant to be patronizing, but in a desperate last attempt he wanted to make Aziraphale understand what he is trying to say, what he spent his entire eternity feeling for Aziraphale, what Aziraphale would be giving up if he goes to heaven. What their life sounds like with no nightingales.

“You idiot, we could've been.. us” is the very culmination of love confessions. It took every single emotion and equated it. Tennant's delivery of it was unsurpassed in the way that it truly covers everything. And the way he grabbed Aziraphale, not entirely lovingly but desperately and angrily and, honest to God, awfully, is the reason why their kiss is so perfect. No queerbaiting, no beating around bushes. It is raw and sad and giving and agonising. Crowley wants to say see what you're giving up? See what we can have? And all Aziraphale thinks is how could you lay this on me now after everything, after every chance we could've been something, after me loving you from the first time I've met you. He's angry towards himself too, because nothing he can offer Crowley will be good enough that he chooses him instead of his choices. Sheen's choice in making his character grab Crowley's shoulder and let it go and then grab it once more in desperation is so unexplainably perfect of how much Aziraphale wants to hold onto Crowley.

But in the back of his mind, Crowley isn't choosing the same. Instead, Crowley's choosing to run from something that no doubt will rebound in their faces. They are angels and demons of heaven and hell, how could Crowley expect they could run and hide without being a repercussion later on? At least what Aziraphale is suggesting ensures that they will have a high position of power, enough to make them together, enough to make them happy, but instead, Crowley is walking away.

And when Crowley lets go of him, not the other way around because of course it is Crowley who must let go and detach from the utter pain that pierced his heart, you can see his expression being one of defeated longing. He sees all expressions passing across Aziraphale, sees how torn apart the other man is, too, and awaits just a semblance of anything they could work with. But instead, Aziraphale's face closes, and he tells Crowley “I forgive you”, and Crowley thinks this must be his second falling, because he's never felt more pain. “Don’t bother”, he says, yet still waits for Aziraphale outside and doesn't leave until Aziraphale has left him. Because in the end, Crowley would always be there for Aziraphale, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of it.

And that, my beloveds, is why eternity will remember this scene.

[sincerelyyycece]

hey, are u still there?...good.

Y/N inevitably finds themselves settling into James's backburner.

note: modern au, inspired by niki's song, "backburner.", lily evans is briefly mentioned, here's what i promised you guys mwa mwa!

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

Y/N had always been the "backburner," the second choice, especially James’s second choice. She was the one he turned to when his first plans fell through—the one who was always there but never the priority. She was used to it and had grown comfortable in the role.

Right now, she's sent at least 15 messages to him.

Hey?

Can we meet up? I have some great news to tell you.

Hellooo.

You're probably busy. Text me when you can.

James?  Did something happen?

Nevermind, I'm probably overthinking it.

I'll just tell you here.

I got the internship :)

Delivered. Gazing at her screen, she sighed with a sense of familiarity. This repetitive pattern felt more like a routine or a game to her. The 'How long till he talks to me again?' Game, as she calls it. Setting her phone aside, she sought distraction from the mundane task of doing laundry.

A moment later, her phone chimed, drawing her attention. With a swift motion, she turned towards it. Hastily, she wiped her damp hands and cleared her throat before uttering, "Hello?" On the other end, she could hear faint shuffling before a familiar voice greeted her, "Hey, Angel." The affectionate nickname warmed her heart. "Just got your text. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. A soft "thank you" escaped her lips in response. His greeting sent a wave of warmth through her. "Apologies for not replying sooner. I was with..." He paused, clearing his throat. Her mood dimmed at the mention of another name. "With someone. I was with someone.”

Lily, always the first choice, James's top priority, the standard against which she measures herself. "Yeah, sure," she responded, lacking enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," he trailed off. "So, do you want to celebrate? We could go out to eat or stay in and watch a movie," he suggested. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm pretty tired." There was a rustling sound on the phone once more. "Look, if this is about earlier, I apologize, alright?" he said. "Lily had some things going on and wanted to meet up, so we did." There it was again. Everything revolves around Lily.

"Um, yeah, I understand," she stuttered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's not that, James. I'm just exhausted from chores," she explained, glancing subtly at her unfinished laundry pile. "Y/N, come on. Let me make it up to you," he pleaded earnestly. "Pretty please," he persisted. She shook her head, amused, and relented, saying, "Okay, okay." Through the phone, she could hear his small yet enthusiastic 'yes.' "Order some takeout. We'll have a cosy night in with a movie," she suggested. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way," he joked lightly. "Take care." With that, she hung up and returned immediately to her laundry task.

Following that day, they continued hanging out. She pondered over the abrupt shift in their dynamic. It was uncharacteristic for her, yet she relished every moment spent with him. He delighted her by taking her to places she longed to visit and presenting her with gifts tailored to her preferences. He seemed to be doing everything right. However, as she prepared for a movie night tonight, a disheartening text message appeared on her phone. Hey, something came up. I have to reschedule. Sorry. She sighed, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps she should have anticipated this turn of events.

Sure, we can reschedule. she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. As they cascaded down her cheeks that night, she found herself immersed in a sea of sorrow. The following morning, she anticipated a message from him, but none arrived. Disheartened once more, she resolved not to reach out again. Days turned into weeks, with silence echoing his absence. It seemed as though he had vanished from her world. Or so she believed. Suddenly, her phone interrupted her reading, and without lifting her gaze from the book, she answered, "Hello?”

"Hey, are you still there?” echoed the familiar voice in her ears. Pausing, she glanced at the caller's ID. 'James :)' flashed on the screen. With a soft hum, she replied. His sigh reached her ears before he responded, "Good." Once more, she felt relegated to the sidelines in his priorities or had she truly ever moved from that place? Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Y/N responded, "Yeah, I'm still here, James." His sigh of relief was almost audible across the line, and for a fleeting moment, she felt herself soften.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and something else she couldn't quite place. "I've been...busy." Busy, always busy. But she knew what that meant. Lily. Yet, she found herself replying, "It's okay, James. I understand." She knew she was settling for less, allowing herself to be on the backburner once again. But the truth was, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, willingly choosing to dance on the edges of his life, even if it meant getting burned time and time again.

So, she swallowed back the hurt and disappointment, offering him a smile he couldn't see. "We can catch up soon, okay?" She suggested, her voice steady. There was a brief silence before he answered, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you soon, Angel." With that, the call ended, leaving her with the familiar echoes of his promises. She sat alone in the silence of her room, her heart heavy yet hopeful. As she closed her eyes, she knew, deep down, that she was still James's second choice, his backburner. But for now, for better or worse, that was a role she was willing to play.