#i've explained this in other words before but i'm talking about it again bc of nan's lil kiss scenario uvu

[bestworstcase]

Genuine question, but where did you pick up "the Brother cult is a common religion in modern day Remnant" from? At least, I'm pretty sure you've said this before on here; my memory is pretty bad lol.

I'm just curious since I've been rewatching RWBY lately, and i remembered that, and I thought it was interesting bc I never once saw or picked up on anything that would suggest that in canon (unless it's like, a headcanon on your part, in which case feel free to ignore me, I'm not here to needlessly criticize a fun headcanon if that's the case loll, i have my own fantasy religion headcanons bc I'm unhinged abt worldbuilding).

If you don't mind, I want to explain my reasoning/thoughts on why I don't think the Brothers are worshipped on modern Remnant (feel free to pick them apart):

-> Qrow says that "not many people are super religious these days". Mind you, I don't take much stock at all in what characters say, especially not in RWBY (i frequently side-eye characters who speak on the Oz merge who aren't Ozpin himself, Light, or Jinn), but i feel like this would be an odd thing to say if it wasn't true. This is supported by The Shallow Sea fading into just a 'fanciful creation myth', as well as none of the main or even side characters being religious (though it could be bc it's just not important) nor discussing religion. Churches don't seem to be common (aside from the one in v4), and imagery of what seem to be altars are scattered and infrequent. Religion is also never brought up when discussing the kingdoms' governments either. So, so far, Qrows line holds true.

-> When Qrow talks about the Brothers, RNJR never really shows that they recognize the story, or at least that they don't put weight on it, unlike finding out the Maidens are real. They're just like "...okay so why is that important", unlike how I imagine religious people would react to finding out their God(s) are real. Plus, Qrow has to explain it to them; if it was a well known religious story, I'm sure the writers would have written it more like "So, you know [insert religion name]? Yeah, according to Ozpin, that story is real. In case you aren't familiar, let me explain it for you... [insert convenient lore dump for the audience]". Plus, the way Qrow phrases it gives me the impression that it's an obscure story. Weaker point, though, I'll admit.

-> In any of the times that we see what *might* be evidence of religion (i.e. the candles/altar in the White Fang in v4, the church in Ruby's v4 short), there's no religious iconography depicting the Brothers (at least, nothing that I've caught). In general, there doesn't seem to be any dragon imagery in modern Remnant (again, nothing that I've caught yet).

-> It's depicted as a fairytale. When Ozpin asks for Pyrrha's favorite fairytales, the first thing she says is The Tale of the Two Brothers. It's also in his fairytale book, something i feel would've been a controversial (if extremely funny) decision if it was a popular religious story (like if you put Jesus' crucifixion in a book including rapunzel and Cinderella).

-> Also, there's no common sayings including the Brothers (like how fics like to have the characters say "Oh Brothers" and other variations).

-> And, in general, Oz's inner circle really wasn't at all concerned with the Gods or really even the Divine Mandate. All they knew was that the Gods created Remnant, humanity, the Grimm, and the Relics and promptly abandoned Remnant, and that "If someone were to collect all four [Relics], they'd be able to change the world." And that that's "exactly what the enemy wants." So they only know the absolute basics of the Mandate, and the way it's worded implies (to me, anyways) that Oz worded it in such a way that cautioned against collecting the Relics (which is very interesting to me. This also tracks with how he depicts the Mandate in TTOTTB). So in general not even the inner circle feels like Brother/Light followers to me, just Oz followers (in general i imagine the events of the infinite man made him learn that bringing up judgement day is a Bad Thing, considering before bringing it up the Circle flourished, but after spreading the message, it was immediately destroyed. Instant karma. Poor dude). Though this starts leaning into the territory of my theory that Oz actually gave up on his mission (which like, could be wrong, but I'm holding onto it until I'm proven wrong), and I'm sure you don't wanna hear that one lol.

In general it seems to me like there isn't a Brothers-centric religion so far, even though Remnant still has organized religion (albeit uncommon). But I'm honestly not sure if I missed anything? I'm sure as hell not the type to comb through every background to see if I did lol.

Sorry for the long ass ask. Take your time answering, and have fun picking apart my reasoning. Please be nice abt it tho 👉👈 I just want to know your thoughts and if i missed anything that proves it's a modern day religion :)

-🌙

okay. first, at the risk of being condescending: religious people believe that their gods are real. you know that, right? religion is not a big game of play pretend. people who practice religion do so because they believe in it.

yes, religious people can and do experience doubt. but a religious person whose doubting and questioning leads them to conclude their god(s) aren't real don't continue to practice the religion they don't believe in. i mean, they might make an outward performance of doing so if it's unsafe for them to leave and they're likely to keep cultural practices and even moral frameworks--see: ex-christians who are exactly as dogmatic and puritanical about whatever new belief system they've adopted--but people who don't believe in gods don't practice religion. 

this:

They're just like "...okay so why is that important", unlike how I imagine religious people would react to finding out their God(s) are real.

is a fallacy you're making because (i presume) you aren't religious and have never been so; i suspect you just don't have any frame of reference and consequently you're projecting your own skepticism onto the hypothetical religious people in your imagination. to be clear, i don't mean this as a personal attack on you--this is a very normal thing for people to do when we're trying to conceptualize experiences that are profoundly different from our own.

my background though is evangelical christian. i was raised in a staunchly religious household attending church 2-3 times a week; i attended a christian school until transferring to public school in fifth grade; i've been to bible camps and conferences where they teach you how to evangelize to nonbelievers and that kind of thing. i'm not talking fundie cult here, to be clear--this was a relatively-by-evangelical-standards socially liberal and theologically mainstream nondenominational protestant church--but christianity was the central organizing structure of my life until i left home. i'm agnostic and fundamentally disagree with the moral framework of christianity but i know a lot of very devout christians and i'm very familiar with the religious praxis. 

(including what genuine, good faith evangelical proselytization looks like--not door-to-door like what e.g. mormons do, or street corner chick tract fundie cult behavior, which is what non-christians typically think of as evangelism. but that stuff is a tactic high-control religious groups use to strengthen identification with the in-group through rejection and alienation by the out-group--evangelical churches that aren't culty don't do that, and in fact the idea that door-to-door and street corner preaching is an isolation tactic used by predatory religious groups is something that was first explained to me in sunday school by the people who taught me how to evangelize. put a pin in this for now.)

so: i'm not imagining hypothetical religious people when i say this, i'm imagining a few hundred specific religious people whom i personally know and how they would react in an equivalent situation. 

what qrow does in 'a much needed talk' is he sit the kids down, goes "not many people are super religious these days… there's a lot of (false) gods people have made up throughout history, but y'know, these two are real. here's the truth…" and then tells them a simplified version of the two brothers creation myth. 

he doesn't do anything to prove that these two gods, in particular, are real. he gives zero evidence. he doesn't even demonstrate that magic is real. this isn't "finding out" that the gods are real, this is uncle qrow doing a little impromptu sunday school lesson like that's an explanation for why some lunatic attacked us earlier. this is like if some rando tried to grab you on the street and pull you into an unmarked van and i saved you and me and the van guy clearly had some sort of history because he knew my full name so you asked me "WHO WAS THAT GUY. WHAT THE FUCK" and i said okay sit down, the first thing you need to know is that in the beginning, god created the heavens and the earth…

regardless of your personal religious beliefs or lack thereof, you would probably go "…what. does this have to do. with the van guy who ATTACKED ME" because that's like, truly a bizarre non-sequitur. but it's not like God Himself is descending from the heavens in a flaming whirlwind to demonstrate his existence. it's just me telling you he's real. 

if you're a christian, in this scenario, that is not in any way a revelation to you. that's akin to, like, "the king of england is real." BIG IF TRUE?--you know this. you already know this. if you are a christian then you believe that the christian god exists and is the one true god. in this hypothetical scenario i'm telling you things you already know and believe foundationally to be true. a devout christian would probably respond more in the vein of "amen! god is good!" but one whose practice is casual--the christmas-and-easter christians--and secular christians would absolutely be "okay and…?" in an equivalent situation to 'a much needed talk.' 

hell, come to that, i'd be asking what this has to do with the crazy guy who tried to kidnap me if i were in that situation. who cares that my dead headmaster was a true believer or whatever i want to know about the guy with the knife! you feel me?

the type of person whom i can imagine making a big deal out of qrow's little creation myth are:

reddit atheist types who cry and scream and shit bricks if they have to talk to somebody who believes in a god; you know. the kind of person categorically incapable of talking about religion in any capacity without at least one sneering "sky daddy"?

someone with no previous exposure to this religious tradition or anything remotely like it. imagine if i were to sit you down and earnestly tell you that the only Real Gods were, like, the hero twins who descended into the underworld to challenge the lords of death to a ballgame. you'd probably be like "HUH??" because hunahpú and xbalanqué are not a cultural reference point you're familiar with in the way that you're familiar with the crucifixion of jesus christ.

like, all religions are fucking weird. the christian gospels are not remotely less weird than the popol vuh, or whatever. you're just familiar with the essentials of the gospel story--even if you're not and have never been christian--because christianity is culturally dominant in the west. and the familiarity makes it normal. unremarkable.

invisible, in a way. 

this is something the writers of rwby really get. if something is normal and ordinary in the world of remnant, the characters don't pay attention to it, even if it's bizarre to the audience. to use a non-religious example, civilians don't know what aura is! it's not common knowledge! we know that because jaune's never heard of it, civilians in vale are shocked and confused when penny stops a truck with her bare hands, and oscar (who has dealt with "occasional grimm" before) has no aura training and doesn't know what a semblance is. but to the rest of the characters, aura is a completely mundane aspect of their day to day lives and they're a little taken aback by characters like jaune and oscar who don't know about it. 

with that in mind, i want to really underscore something about the things qrow tells RNJR in 'a much needed talk' and the way the kids react. 

because. first, qrow gives them the same intro level rundown on the maidens that pyrrha got in v3--offscreen because that's shit the audience has already heard and don't need to be rehashed. the kids are like, "that's a lot to take in," and jaune in particular is like "this is all very sketchy, what the fuck is actually going on." 

THEN, apropos nothing, qrow drops "not many people are super religious but These Two gods are actually real btw" and an abbreviated creation story, with NO proof and NO apparent connection to the maniacal cultist who ranted and raved about his body and soul belonging to his goddess-queen who sent him to "retrieve" ruby for her. and none of the kids express the slightest bit of skepticism about this super out of left field sunday school story, no one is like "what the fuck" or "are you drunk"--ren just goes "okay but how. is that relevant." 

whereupon qrow finally tells them about the relics hidden under the schools and salem wanting them and that BAD THINGS will happen if she gets them. and then, jaune the skeptic goes: "alright, so let's say we believe all this--there really is this crazy evil being behind these attacks, not just some thugs trying to become powerful. why doesn't the world know?"

THAT'S the part he finds outrageous and difficult to believe. not that the two brothers are real, but that SALEM exists. salem. these kids literally JUST got attacked by a lunatic cultist who kept babbling about MY GODDESS HER GRACE THE QUEEN and directly stated that he is cinder's associate and referred to the white fang and torchwick as pawns, but the thing that makes them go "wait but this is crazy and makes no sense" is qrow explaining that there's a malevolent entity called salem who orchestrated the attack on beacon and sent that guy to capture ruby. like, objectively, from a purely logical standpoint, that's the least unbelievable thing that qrow tells them. 

but people aren't rational agents. and one thing this scene does very effectively is establish the relative normality of each major chunk of information through the way the kids react:

maidens? "there are four special people who can do magic without dust? and when they die that power passes on to someone new? that's. well that's a lot to process but. sure."

brothers? "and this is relevant how?"

salem? "that's crazy how could someone like that possibly exist without everybody knowing about it? why should we believe any of this!?"

salem is so fucking far out of their previous understanding of how the world works that they all kind of have a kneejerk "that! can't be real!" response even though tyrian shouted from the literal rooftops that he's working for a 'goddess' who was behind the attack on beacon.

but the maidens? they have a frame of reference for magic--magic is what anyone can do with dust, and ruby…petrified a massive grimm with her eyes somehow a few months ago, so like, it's not THAT unbelievable to accept that an old story about four maidens who can do magic without dust is true, apparently. 

whereas the stuff about brothers… nothing. not one of these kids so much as blinks even though. again, from a purely logical standpoint, the creation of remnant by the brothers is the most fantastical part of qrow's explanation. but the kids don't react that way, because it's normal to them. ergo they're either casual practitioners of brother-worship or brother-worship has cultural hegemony in vale and mistral, where RNJR grew up.

now! it's actually a simple matter of text whether the second possibility is true or not and this is the part of the answer where i have to just say: you're factually incorrect actually. 

-> In any of the times that we see what *might* be evidence of religion (i.e. the candles/altar in the White Fang in v4, the church in Ruby's v4 short), there's no religious iconography depicting the Brothers (at least, nothing that I've caught). In general, there doesn't seem to be any dragon imagery in modern Remnant (again, nothing that I've caught yet).

there is a big statue of the dragon brothers smack in the middle of the train station in mistral. one gold, one dark. very unmistakably a depiction of Those Two. this is in v6 so if you're only up to v4 on your rewatch you can't uh, be expected to remember. (<- i am just unhinged enough about fictional religion i can tell you off the top of my head that yang and ruby swear by God in v1 but the ship captain in v4 swears "by the gods" and i think that church in ruby's character short implies maiden-worship on the basis of the statue of the cloaked young woman in front, details of this kind just stick in my memory for nerd reasons.)

[as an aside why would… the white fang… have an altar to mankind's gods… like. there are no faunus in 'the two brothers' and the culturally dominant religion among faunus is worship of the god of animals, as ozpin notes in his commentaries on 'shallow sea' & 'judgment.' the trappings of religion that we see in the white fang's private spaces are… obviously… god of animals-worship. this feels half a step shy of saying "well the altar in salem's war room doesn't have any draconic iconography, so therefore brother-worship isn't a thing." brother-worship is explicitly not the only religion in existence!]

-> Also, there's no common sayings including the Brothers (like how fics like to have the characters say "Oh Brothers" and other variations).

in v7, 'pomp and circumstance' specifically, ironwood says "brothers know you deserve it" in reference to RWBYJNR receiving their huntsman licenses. and a quick round up from the novels:

after the fall: "thank the brothers you found us," said by a bit character.

before the dawn: "thank the brothers," said by octavia; "by the brothers," said by finn asturias when he learns what his kids are planning

roman holiday: "thank the brothers," said once by neo's mother and once by a bit character. 

there are also general exclamations of "my gods" or "by the gods" and general references to "the gods" both in rwby proper and ancillary materials, with "gods" being in far more frequent use than the singular "God"--gods, plural, doesn't necessarily mean the brothers every time, because qrow does make a point of noting that remnant's people, collectively, worship "dozens" of gods. but it is pretty evident that the dominant religion across the four human kingdoms has more than one god, and the coincidence of that with, taking the novels into consideration, characters from literally every kingdom except mistral which has a honking big statue of the brothers in its train station swear by the brothers… yeah the dominant religion globally is brother-worship. probably not in menagerie. but in the four human kingdoms, yeah. 

-> It's depicted as a fairytale. When Ozpin asks for Pyrrha's favorite fairytales, the first thing she says is The Tale of the Two Brothers. It's also in his fairytale book, something i feel would've been a controversial (if extremely funny) decision if it was a popular religious story (like if you put Jesus' crucifixion in a book including rapunzel and Cinderella).

…and the second is 'the shallow sea,' which is also a religious myth. 'the story of the seasons' is alsowhat we'd call a myth, not a fairytale. 'the girl in the tower' is the only story pyrrha names in that scene that is actually a fairytale per se. in general the delineation we make between "fairytale" and "myth" in the real world, as discrete genres of folklore, doesn't seem to exist in remnant--legends and fairytales scattered in time, and all that. the conceit of rwby is about engaging with fairytale-as-myth, so this is a very intentional blurring; like, this is a narrative where maiden-in-tower IS the creation story, fundamentally. rapunzel is orpheus is prometheus and that's how the world was made.

and that's the kind of thing that we as the audience have to just accept as a fact of the fictional reality, because… like… gestures at 'the shallow sea.' 

ozpin included THAT one in his book of fairytales, too, and in his commentary he explicitly describes it as part of a closed(!) oral tradition whose inclusion he deliberated for fear of being disrespectful. he devotes more than half of his commentary to justifying the choice to include it, and the rest to describing the myth's cultural context to his (presumed human) readers. he asks forgiveness for "overstepping himself." 

and it is very obvious, in the way ozpin talks about 'the shallow sea' in particular and the book generally in his forward and afterward, that his concern is not "it is grotesquely horribly disrespectful to place this profoundly meaningful and important creation myth (of a culture that is not my own) in a collection of frivolous fairytales" but rather "this book is meant to be a collection of profoundly meaningful tales drawn from all of remnant's cultures and i believe this one is too important not to include, but i am also acutely aware that it is a closed tradition to which i do not belong." the latter is still out of pocket, but the simple fact is that a character who so obviously knows that publishing a story from a closed tradition without permission is Not Okay and so obviously feels immensely conflicted and guilty about doing so isn't a character who would blithely denigrate a myth like this by publishing it in a book of trivial fairytales. and a character who would denigrate the myth that way wouldn't agonize over whether it was important enough to be worth violating the closed tradition. 

and then you consider that, out of the twelve stories ozpin put in this book, three are explicitly religious creation myths ('the shallow sea,' 'the judgment of faunus,' and 'the two brothers'), two others are myths describing the origin of natural phenomena ('the story of the seasons' and 'the gift of the moon'), and one is a mythical culture hero ('the infinite man')… so fully half the stories in this book aren't actually fairytales. they're myths. 

so the inclusion of 'the two brothers' is less cinderella-and-christ than it is "here is an eclectic collection of folklore from around the world" in terms of what would be equivalent in the real world; and… like, 'the shallow sea,' 'judgment of faunus,' and 'the two brothers,' the plain text of these stories is clearly and unambiguously religious in nature, and ozpin explicitly discusses them as such. 

his commentary on 'the two brothers,' in particular: "there are many versions of our creation story […] but certain elements are always consistent: they arrived from a realm outside of our own and together created the universe from nothing. and then they left us on our own." and "whether or not you believe in the brothers, or in this story in particular […] like the twin gods, we are intricately connected to each other" and, um:

Even if the gods aren’t real, even if they don’t return to judge us for our deeds, we should act each day as though they are arriving tomorrow. In the end, we will be the arbiters of our fates. We will either create a beautiful, peaceful world and live in harmony together or destroy ourselves and our planet, and the gods will judge what we have chosen.

remember how i said i'm intimately familiar with, specifically, evangelical christianity and what actual evangelism entails? not the deliberately off-putting door-to-door shit but proselytization for the purpose of bringing new people into a church that isn't a predatory high-control group?

the way ozpin talks about the brothers here, and the way qrow talks about them in 'a much needed talk,' is christian evangelism 101.

"not many people are super religious, these days." you know who says this type of thing? like, fucking constantly? evangelical christians. never mind that christianity is the majority religion in the US by a significant margin (66%!)--evangelical christians inhabit a constructed alternate reality wherein they're an embattled minority shining candlelight into a sea of darkness. (many of them accomplish this by deciding that most other christians aren't real christians; the classic protestant move of course being "catholics aren't christian" but your average evangelical takes a dim view of like. any denomination that isn't their denomination and when i tell you the nondenominationals are the worst offenders in this regard... lmao. anyways)

"not many people are super religious [christian] nowadays. people believe in all kinds of different gods and creeds, but there is only one true God"--this is literally just how evangelicals talk. both to each other and to non-believers they're hoping to interest in the church, although the tone depends on who's listening. internal discussions of this nature are strategic in nature--how do we reach people and speak to them effectively in these godless times? what is the right balance between presenting ourselves and our faith honestly while still creating a welcoming and accessible space for people who don't know jesus? how do we share what we believe with people who just don't care? and so forth--whereas the framing with nonbelievers is that it's innate in human nature to crave purpose and meaning and that everyone seeks fulfillment but few ever manage to find it because none of us are born knowing where to look, etc. 

meanwhile in his commentary ozpin is doing a fantasy repackaging of the pascal's wager tactic, which like. i have sat through literal educational films on the rhetorical use of pascal's wager in effective evangelism. "well, if i believe in god and i'm wrong, i'll have lived a good, moral life and lost nothing; if you don't believe in god and you're wrong, hell" is one of THEEEE evangelist talking points. ideally, one used to open a conversation with friends and/or people who have indicated interest in talking about your faith in some way, especially if they ask "what if you're wrong?" because then the idea is to demonstrate that you're not rigidly dogmatic in your faith but instead you've given serious thought to the possibility that you might be wrong, and thus show that you understand and empathize with the nonbeliever's skepticism so as to build a genuine rapport. (whether it *works* that way in practice is highly dependent on like. charisma and actual meaningful ability to click with non-christians, which a lot of devout evangelicals… just can't even when they really earnestly do try, but ozpin as a character does have the charisma and the knack for connecting with people that can make this approach effective at getting irreligious people to give "hey, come to this church thing with me?" a shot.)

i cannot emphasize enough that after the obvious one of "directly openly stated religious beliefs," the reason ozpin and qrow specifically read to me as highly religious characters is because they talk exactly like evangelicals in secular company. they talk about and share their beliefs about the brothers the way i was taught in church to talk about christianity. 

you don't go banging on people's doors or harassing them in the streets. nobody fucking likes that and it makes people not want to go to church. you don't go around with a stick up your butt about the non-christian people in your life not being christian. what you do is treat people with kindness and respect and draw firm boundaries for yourself to keep yourself safe (<- unironically growing up in an evangelical christian household is a huge part of the reason i am SO comfortable just fucking saying no to things i don't want to do and i think this is the one thing that evangelicals really have on a LOCK) while being open and honest and unapologetic about your own faith. you save the bitchy judgmental gossip and fire and brimstone garbage and like, talking about the eschaton for when it's just true believers. 

evangelical christianity is an eschatological religion, by the way. in case you didn't know that. evangelicals believe that we are living in or on the cusp of the end times and the political action of evangelical christians in the united states is motivated in large part by a desire to enact the prophesied conditions that will herald the second coming of christ. for example a lot of evangelicals like trump because they think he's a divine implement of the great tribulation. evangelicals are obsessed with and actively trying to enact the apocalypse. and rwby is straight up the only fictional story i've ever encountered that understands how an eschatological cult operates because you can NOT advertise that shit. it FREAKS PEOPLE OUT. you keep the "i want the world to be riven by unprecedented catastrophe and suffering so i can be taken up to heaven in the rapture while the wrath of almighty god crushes what remains as grapes in a winepress" between yourself and the other doomsday cultists. 

it's not like. SECRET. it's in the bible. but very few non-christians bother to actually read the bible and the ones who do are just not going to have the cultural context to know how very deadly serious evangelicals in particular are about the book of revelation or how much of a core pillar the eschatology is to evangelicalism; meanwhile american evangelicals are knowingly deliberately voting for the apocalypse. similarly,

“We must take back our gifts,” the God of Darkness said. “Reclaim our power and wipe this experiment from existence.”

“I disagree,” the God of Light said. “And we promised to share in the fate of our joint creation.” He gave a mighty yawn. “Let us rest, and when the time comes, we will see what Humanity has become in our absence. At that point, we will judge them. If they are worthy, we will take their forms and walk among them as equals. If not, we will take back our gifts and start over elsewhere. What do you say?”

“Who will decide whether they are worthy?” the God of Darkness said.

“Humanity will make it plain. If they come together in unity and find a way to destroy the evil in the world and within themselves, then they are worthy. If not … we will let them burn,” the God of Light said.

“So shall it be.” The two brothers agreed. But even in rest, they needed some distance from each other. Each dragon transformed himself into a new continent at one end of their world.

And there the dragons still sleep, until the day that the gods will waken, rise, and judge.

ozma's mandate is not a secret. the apocalyptic final judgment is clearly and emphatically spelled out in the myth of the two brothers, which he included in an anthology of tales intended for the general public and annotated to the effect of "i believe this one is true and even if you don't you should act like you do. btw. because it's true" YEAH MAN WE GET IT. 

(he also asserts apropos nothing in his commentary on 'the gift of the moon'--a myth that does not mention the brothers at all--that the sun is a "celestial gift from the all-powerful god of light," so either 'the gift of the moon' is brother-cult doctrine or ozpin is pointing at a myth from another tradition and making it about his god.)

the main difference between ozpin and your average evangelical is that ozpin fears the end times because he doesn't believe anyone will be spared. but his behavior is the same. his way of presenting his religiosity in a way that minimizes and obfuscates the eschatological intention at the core is the same, if not more intense because the material reality of his situation, as the accursed chosen one literally commanded by God Himself to immanentize the eschaton, is a lot more terrifying and desperate. 'the infinite man' is quite literally a veiled autobiographical story about how he figured out that he CAN'T… go around just… TELLING EVERYBODY… that he's MAKING READY FOR THE FINAL JUDGMENT.... because people don't fucking like that and will kill him and put his cult to the sword about it.

that emphatically does not mean that he doesn't still believe in it; it means that he has, in the same way that evangelical christians in real life have, figured out how to code-switch. there's the public face for mixed company where you're friendly and humble and make a concerted effort to live by the virtues of your faith while being open and unapologetic about your religious identity while maintaining a posture of respectful invitation toward everyone else and engaging in meaningful ways with people you personally know to gently encourage them to explore your faith…

…and there's the private face for when it's just you and your fellow true believers and you're talking in intricate detail about how current world events line up with this or that prophesy about the end times. ozpin in public is the mixed-company evangelical to a T. and ozpin in private with people who have been informed of the whole situation re: maidens, relics, salem is like "i am the divinely-ordained champion of the gods and we must stop her from getting her hands on the relics that My Schools were built as fortresses to defend."

in 'the lost fable' these kids literally hear the god of light say with his whole chest that mankind will be found irredeemable and destroyed if they are "unchanged," and they do not even blink. 3.75 volumes spanning months later, they STILL haven't really registered that the god of light holds the view that not a single person alive on the planet RIGHT NOW TODAY deserves to live. why?

because they knew that part already. not the precise detail of ozma being the one who's meant to decide when the world is fit for divine judgment and actively invite the brothers back, but the final judgment and the need for humans to be United when the day of judgment comes lest they be burned to ashes? They Knew That. it is invisible to them except inasmuch as salem embodies, to them, the danger that mankind will be condemned, because it's normal. regardless of their personal religious beliefs or degree of religiosity, they're all familiar with this story to the point that hearing God Himself promise to exterminate everybody didn't even mildly startle them. they knew. 

like. fundamentally. the story as-written and the way the characters present in the lost fable do not react whatsoever to the divine ultimatum does not make sense unless every single one of them already knew the story about the dragon-brothers who created the world and then departed and will return to judge humanity's worth, to either reward them with completion or wipe them from existence. and because the kids seem to fall in the zone of irreligious to casually religious the simplest and most likely explanation is that there is a global hegemony of brother-worship, akin to christianity in the west. 

taps the sign. and this sign too.

like. in one sense it's a question of your frame of reference and specifically whether you know what deeply religious people are like and how an eschatological religion actually functions in the real world or if your mental model for what this looks like is drawn from, like, pop culture fundamentalist caricatures. i can tell you that the way qrow segues into and tells the brothers creation myth is something i can imagine almost verbatim coming out of the mouths of elders in my parents' church and that ozpin's commentary on the same myth is a point-for-point translation of christian evangelism into his fictional religion. i can tell you that your presupposition that a religious person "finding out" the god(s) they believe in really do exist would feel any kind of surprise or revelation about it is baldly incorrect in a way that leads me to believe you have zero real personal experience with religion or religious people. i can tell you that your presupposition that the secular democratic institutions of government in the kingdoms means there can't be a religious cultural hegemony of brother-worship (or any other religion) is, again, just factually not correct.

but in another and, in many ways, more important sense: rwby is a story about a religious conflict. there are two gods who destroyed the last world and a promised day of judgment that will be ushered in by four divine relics, each guarded by fortresses that act as the central hub for each plot arc, and the overarching narrative conflict is about a power struggle between two people--the immortal agent of rebellion against the gods and the divinely-appointed chosen one tasked with preparing for the final judgment--fighting for control of these relics. that's the plot. 

why are you reading scenes where the characters intricately involved in this power struggle talk about religious matters like the existence of gods and divine relics and divinely-ordained tasks as evidence that these characters… aren't religious? why are you reading actual myths that are textually presented as religious stories as… not a religion? why are you looking at a character commanded by God Himself to unite mankind, who in the present day speaks incessantly of the importance of unity and existential threat of division, who annotates the aforementioned explicitly religious myth with an exhortation to act each day as if the gods will return to judge you tomorrow, and concluding that he… is not religious and does not fundamentally believe in any of it?

what do you think a religion is?

and in this story, of all stories--when the central narrative conflict is overtly a war over divine relics left behind by the gods for the sole purpose of bringing about the final day of divine judgment--why in the world is it your baseline assumption that religion is not something that matters very much within the world of the story? why do you take qrow saying "not many people are super religious these days" completely at face value to mean "most people are agnostic/atheist and religion has no cultural relevance whatsoever" even though the next thing out of his mouth is "but these two gods are REAL" and even though, a single volume prior, his colleague said "what we're telling you goes against hundreds of years of human history, religion" and insinuate that consequently the truth would cause uproar and panic to justify keeping the maidens a secret?

i think that ozpin and his inner circle are religious because they speak and act like it and the core purpose of their "brotherhood" (as they call it) is to safeguard the divine relics while they publish religious myths about their gods and talk about how those gods are real and nothing is more important than keeping the divine relics safe. if it acts and looks and quacks like a duck and repeatedly turns to the audience to say that it believes in ducks, i believe it's a duck. i am not going to say "well it complained one time that there aren't a lot of ducks left in the world, so i think it's actually a chicken." that's nonsense. 

[quietlyblooms]

hi i'm going insane thinking about the way chiyo starts to lose it if she's unsure of someone's intentions after being kissed. chiyo prefers being in control, knowing how someone acts and what they're thinking; she's really good at that, but feelings of affection are harder to interpret. some people are really obvious, easy to read, while others are so subtle or ambiguous in their affection, and chiyo lacks the confidence to assume anyone wants something romantic from her unless she has concrete evidence.

but isn't a kiss concrete evidence? not to chiyo. kissing happens in the heat of the moment, can be fueled by physical desire as much as emotional desire. chiyo needs to see patterns in behavior, hear the words expressing interest. if she doesn't have any of that, she's absolutely freaking out internally after an impromptu kiss bc most of the time, it's her friends she's kissing. she doesn't want to lose someone and will berate herself for not having control over the situation. and um. who hurt her?? me, i did. and kojirou, but i'm not getting into that rn asdfg

[honeyhonest]

minors do not interact, 18+ only

✧˖°. doctor's orders

hey guys. did you know that medieval doctors would prescribe orgasms as medical treatment, as it was believed that a buildup of sexual desire would cause illness?

you know who would know this?

warnings: afab!reader (they/you pronouns, I say cunt a lot), fingering, humping, praise, usage of "little one" bc guhhh, biting, medical kink if you squint, long

It was of the opinion of your dear friends that you had fallen very, very ill.

There could be no other explanation; the pleasant, thoughtful prefect, their beloved friend, had become disinterested and grumpy, isolating themselves in their room and dismissing any attempts to talk.

You complained of being dizzy. You always looked as if you didn't quite sleep enough the night before, or the night before that. And you were distracted, your mind clearly on something else.

And despite the best efforts of your friends, you refused to see the nurse.

"I've never seen them so stubborn," Vil complains. "It's as if they want to suffer."

Leona scoffs and kicks his feet up on the table. "I say let 'em be. They're going through a phase. Can't do anything about that,"

"Was this really important enough to meet over?" Trey asks. "I have to take batter out of the fridge in fifteen-"

"Yes, we heard you the first time. And yes, it's important. They've become an absolute hermit," Vil says.

Cater leans into his elbow on the table, smiling. "And aren't they like, a little old to be going through phases?"

"My thoughts exactly,"

Each of your friends exchange glances. All have their theories, but none are willing to share them in the dim lighting of the classroom. Leona sighs.

"As much as I hate to ask, can't you just have your little lapdog figure it out?"

"Rook?" Vil asks. "I've tried. He smiles at me, as if he knows, and then says he hasn't a clue and walks off."

"Psh. Typical,"

"What're we talking about?"

Lost in thought and tense conversation, no one had noticed the door to the classroom opening.

Perhaps they wouldn't have noticed even if it was quiet, since the fae standing at the mouth of the room with his hands folded behind his back and a curious smile on his face was known for surprises.

"...Good evening, Lilia," Vil says. "We were only having a conversation."

His eyes light up at the trepidation in Vil's words. "Ooh, gossip?"

"Nothing of the sort,"

Cater grins, and leans further against the table. "Uh, kinda, tho. A certain someone's been weird lately, and it's freaking everyone out,"

"Oh," Lilia says, raising his brow. "That's unfortunate. Are they unwell?"

Cater shrugs, and Vil rolls his eyes.

"Yes. But they refuse to be tended to,"

The fae hums, the same curious smile on his lips. He's obviously not too worried. "Perhaps I can help. I've treated some illnesses in my time. What are the symptoms?"

Vil seems reluctant to share, as if he doubts Lilia's word, but then he sighs.

"Fatigue, shortness of breath, and they complain of feeling lightheaded. They've also taken to isolating themselves in their room, and their attitude has..."

"They're a huge dick now," Leona grins. Vil glares daggers at him.

Lilia hums again, cradling his chin in thought. "I see... if that's all, then I think I know what's ailing them. I'm afraid it's rather serious,"

And the room goes silent, everyone's attentions drawn to the small fae. Some suddenly look quite nervous, and others- Leona- roll their eyes.

"Woah, Lils, how serious are we talking?" Cater asks, sitting up straight again.

"I read of it in a Briar Valley medicinal tome some time ago. It's quite common in mature humans," he explains. "Some cases have been deathly. Luckily, there is treatment... ahem, but it must be given by another person."

"Like an injection or something?" Cater asks.

"Khee hee. Yes, something like that,"

Vil puts his hands on his hips, still looking skeptical. "And I suppose you'd like to give it?"

For a fleeting moment in that dark room, in the flicker of candle, Lilia's smirk sharpens, a knowing, sly gleam in his eyes.

Then, as if it had never happened, his cute, jovial expression returns. "Of course. I am the expert, after all,"

.

"Knock knock~"

Lilia is, perhaps, the last person you want to see right now.

Between your friends pestering you and the dull, unrelieved ache between your legs that you can never seem to rid yourself of, this week has felt like twelve of Lilia's lifespans combined.

The door opens without a response from you.

"There you are!" Lilia beams, as if he'd been looking for you all day. As if you'd been anywhere but in your room...

"Hello, dear. A little birdie told me you weren't feeling well."

You suppress a groan of pure, tortured anguish. "Listen, I know you're just trying to help, but I'm really not in the mood for visitors,"

"Aren't you?" he says with a tsk, tsk, slowly closing the door behind him. "I think a visitor is just what you need. I know just how to make this go away, after all."

You almost roll your eyes. He's just like the others- no amount of soup and bed rest was going to help you.

"Aww, don't give me that look," Lilia smiles, delicately sitting at the end of your bed. "I can tell this isn't a stomach bug or a cold. I'm not witless like the others, you know. Now, we're both adults here. Would you like to tell me about it, or shall I guess?"

You blink. No other option. You want to believe that he doesn't know what he's talking about, but he's Lilia.

Your refusal to answer only sharpens his grin.

"Guessing it is. Let's see," he says, his eyes lingering on your body for a moment too long.

"Khee hee. Seems like someone is a little overdue for some fun. Frustrated, are we?"

"Lilia!"

You throw your pillow at him, and he catches it with a giggle, setting it beside him and leaning over you.

"I'm right, then? Oh, don't tell me. I love the suspense. But you do know it's unhealthy to abstain. Lethal, sometimes. Back in my day, it was called womb sickness. Now it's... what, going cold turkey?"

"Lilia,"

He giggles again. "Oh, I apologize. Too lewd?"

He's not sorry in the slightest. If anything, he seems to be drinking in your frustration and embarrassment, and he has that glint in his eyes- that fiery sort of look he has before a competition.

"It's not that," you huff. "And I'm not... abstaining. I just... I've... I've had trouble... getting there."

Lilia doesn't seem surprised. If anything, his smirk only sharpens, and his eyes lower to your body again, lingering far too long on the exposed tummy visible between your shirt and your pants. His fingers, cool and almost calloused, brush against your cheek as he tucks hair behind your ear.

"Hmm... that is unfortunate, isn't it?"

"Very," you say, plainly.

There's a moment of silence, his eyes dragging down your body, shamelessly admiring you with only a look.

His hand snakes from the sheets beside you to your thigh, fingers pressing into the plush and thumb languidly stroking along the warmth of your inner thigh. There's nothing shy or gentle about the touch.

"Let me help you,"

"Excuse me?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles, his fingers digging into your thigh.

"Khee hee. My apologies, what I meant was, it is quite unhealthy to go so long without proper release. But there are... treatments,"

His thumb presses into your inner thigh for emphasis.

"So... let me help you. In a strictly professional, medical context. Of course,"

"Of course?" you repeat.

"Of course,"

His hand slides up your side, and he gives you a firm, reassuring squeeze before sliding back to your thigh, coaxing your legs apart.

Lilia stills, taking a breath and enjoying the look of you on your back underneath him. Then, he cozies himself up next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

"This'll be better if you relax. Doctor's orders," he says. You can hear the smirk in his voice.

His fingers dance along the hem of your pajamas before sliding between the fabric of your pants and underwear. He traces a line up your clothed cunt, feeling for arousal, and then, without warning, he pushes his thumb against your achey clit, hard, making you jolt.

"Khee hee. Couldn't help myself,"

You don't have the mind to curse him out now, not even in your thoughts. His mouth finds your neck, and he presses kisses to it as his thumb moves in deep, languid circles over the pearl of your cunt.

"O-oh,"

"You like?" he giggles, fangs grazing against the tender flesh of your throat. "Don't get too cozy. We're only starting."

Every few seconds, he changes the direction or pace of his thumb, stroking your clit in circles or moving up and down, both agonizingly slow and agonizingly fast, never giving you a moment to breathe, and certainly not to cum.

"That's it," he murmurs against your neck, lowered, crimson eyes watching your chest rise and fall with each breath. "Aren't you a brave little one? Getting so wet for me..."

As if to emphasize his point, two fingers make their way beneath the thin fabric of your underwear, dipping between your folds and dancing in your slick. The cold of his skin makes your hips jolt again, and he giggles.

"Mmh. You weren't kidding. You're desperate, aren't you?"

He takes your flustered silence as a yes, and withdraws his fingers from between your legs, holding them to the light, playing with the glistening strings of slick between his fingers.

"...How cute,"

He's been torturing you for so long, you'd nearly forgotten... everything. The time, the place, your own name...

Only the absence of his hand from your cunt reminds you, and you meet his eyes with a pout.

"Lil-"

"Suck," he commands, holding his fingers to your lips. The warmth of your own cunt meets the warmth of your tongue as you let him in, and he hums happily. Once, he presses down on your tongue, making you gag, much to his delight.

He withdraws the hand and uses it to hold your face, smearing your cheek with your spit as he guides your lips to his. Lilia kisses you hard, tasting yourself on your tongue, almost moaning into your mouth when you do.

Then, he pulls away, his eyes lowered, fangs pressing into his lower lip in a grin.

"Ready?"

"Ready?" You repeat, watching him rest his head on your chest as he lays himself beside you again.

His fingers slip beneath your underwear again. "For your treatment, silly thing. Ready?"

You can suddenly feel your heart in your throat, and as soon as the word leaves your mouth, there are two nimble fingers breaching your cunt.

"My, my," his giggles almost drown out the sound of your moans. "Don't worry, little one, I'll take good care of you."

He scissors his fingers, stretching you out as if to test how much you can take, which is pleasurable in its own way, and then he begins moving. He pumps his middle and ring finger in and out, shallow at first, but going further with each noise of yours. He curls his fingers the deeper he goes, forcing more moans and whimpers and incoherent babbles out of your throat.

Though you can't see his face as he focuses solely on the place between your legs, you can tell he's enjoying this... if only because he's been grinding against your thigh since before you kissed.

"That's- that's it, just like that, you're doing so well, little one-"

The speed of his hips quickens with the speed of his fingers, filling the room with the sound of your desperate moans, his whines, and the squish of his fingers thrusting into your slick hole. His ankle hooks around yours, locking your bodies together as he humps your thigh. The heel of his palm grinds into your clit as his fingers push deeper.

You're convinced he can feel your orgasm coming before you do, because as soon as he hits the perfect spot, he sinks his fangs into your neck, overwhelming you with pain and pleasure and making you cum, finally, all over his hand.

Your vision goes white, and his soft praises sound distant until you can feel your fingers again.

And his, as he pulls them out, admiring the way they're wrinkled from your wetness and covered in slick.

"Mmh. I'm impressed. You must have been truly desperate to cum like that- or perhaps you just like me? Khee hee,"

You can't seem to speak, your body still numb and tingling with pleasure. Lilia grins at the state of yourself and leans up to kiss your sweaty forehead.

"All better, I take it? I knew I always had a knack for medicine," he says, sitting up.

You watch as he licks his hand clean, savoring the fruits of his efforts.

"I'm sure your friends will be pleased to see you in good health again."

Your eyes widen, and your lips finally part- "Don't-"

He chuckles. "I won't say a word, don't worry your pretty little head about it. It'll be our little secret, Prefect~"

Lilia looks away for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, and then he smiles again.

"...That was a close call, though. It would be just terrible if something like this happened again. I'll have to return in a few days to make sure you're taking good care of yourself- doctor's orders."

[hardly-an-escape]

I'm not sure if this will go anywhere but have 650 words of slightly angsty Tommy POV immediately post-breakup

The first voicemail arrives before Tommy even pulls into his driveway.

"Hey, it's… uh, it's me," Evan says. "I'm just – I'm really confused, Tommy, I'm trying to understand what just happened and I – I can't, I don't get it. Will you call me back? Please? Can we talk about it, at least… just, like, at least a little bit, can we talk about what's going on? Because I – I r-really don't think I can just leave it like that. Please?"

He listens to the message standing up in his kitchen, because he think if he sits down he might just dissolve into the couch and never get up again. Evan's voice sounds foggy, like he's been crying.

Tommy doesn't call back.

The first text arrives about an hour later, while he's halfheartedly throwing together some pasta.

Evan ♥️: i understand if u don't want to talk right now but will you at least let me know u got home safe Evan ♥️: or wherever u went Evan ♥️: please?

He can't look at that heart, he just can't, so he goes into his contacts and changes Evan ♥️ to Buck. Buck Buckley. It looks so stupid that it almost makes his stomach turn, so he changes it to E. Buckley. That's nice and detached and professional. A super normal way to label your ex in your phone. He swipes back to his text thread.

E. Buckley: please?

He takes a deep breath and starts to type.

Tommy: I'm home. Tommy: I don't think it's a good idea for me to call you right now. I'm sorry.

The answer comes almost immediately, as though Evan – as though Buck has his phone in his hand at that moment.

E. Buckley: right now or ever? E. Buckley: i'm just trying to understand E. Buckley: things were good. i really thougt everything was really good and now this is just coming out of nowhere for me. idk I'm sure that's my fault but i don't understand what I missed Tommy

Tommy sighs. "It's not your fault," he says out loud to his phone, which is… not exactly true, but not not true. Evan – Buck had missed some things, some important ones, like the fact that Tommy is fundamentally a broken man who doesn't deserve love and destroys every good thing he touches.

Tommy: It's not your fault. And no, I'm not saying let's never talk again. Tommy: Let's just take some time.

E. Buckley: ok. ok, we can do that E. Buckley: time is good E. Buckley: but just so u know. I am not prepared to give up on us, ok? E. Buckley: i want to fight for us. and i dont know how to do that yet bc i've never really done that before E. Buckley: but you make me want to fight, Tommy. in a good way!!! you make me want to not let go of you E. Buckley: i will leave u alone now but please let me know when your ready to talk

Tommy feels a tickle on his face, and when he lifts his hand to his cheek he's surprised to find that it's wet.

You make me want to not let go of you.

On some level he already instinctively knows that walking away from Evan is one of the biggest mistakes he's ever made. But how can he begin to explain to the other man that chasing after Tommy – after broken, tired, jaded Tommy – would be an even bigger mistake?

He doesn't know what to text back to Evan. To Buck. So he doesn't send anything. He wipes his face with his hand and wipes his hand on his jeans and collapses, finally, onto his couch. He seriously considers dissolving away into nothing and never speaking to anyone again, but in the end he just turns off his phone and turns on the television.

He falls asleep like that. His dreams are blessedly blank.

part two >>

[suckerforcate]

making my first emily request, not read much of it yet bc i'm worried about spoilers and i'm only on season 4 (tbf have fucking blasted through it so far, watching multiple eps a day).

emily/reader, reader is hotch's little sister who isn't part of the bau but works with them occasionally. hotch Does Not Know about her and em. unclear if he even knows she's gay. any other details of it are up to you bestie, i trust you 💚

Segreto Piccolo

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1336

Warning: I think none?

Summary: Emily and you had been dating for a few months and now you're brother had found out (set around season 3 or 4)

A/n: OK, so this is the first time I've ever written for Em. I hope it's okay? Hope it's not too ooc. Would be delighted by a comment or repost!!! <3

■----------------------------------------■

“Come on, babe. He won’t rip your head off.” You nearly whined and gave Emily the best puppy eyes you could manage. You’d been dating her for a few months now, it was all still very fresh, but you really liked her. A lot.

Your brother, Aaron Hotchner, was the Unit Chief of the BAU and sometimes brought you in for cases. You worked as a children’s psychiatrist and had turned out to be very helpful on cases involving children. In any form, as victims, as witnesses and as UnSubs. On one of those cases, you had met Emily Prentiss. Truth be told, she had caught your eye immediately, but it had taken you three more cases to actually ask her out. She was amazing, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. She was smart and quick-witted, an amazing Profiler, adorable with kids and really funny. And after you had started dating you had learned that she loved with all she had. And it was wonderful.

Except for one thing. She was afraid of telling your brother. Emily hadn’t been on the team for long, and now she hooked up with his baby sister? He’d kill her. Or at least that’s what she assumed. She didn’t know Aaron like you did. He could be stoic and serious at work, but he was a sweetheart and a wonderful brother. He loved you and all he wanted was you to be happy. He might need some time adjusting, but he could never be mad for long.

“He’ll kill me, Tesoro. He’s only just warmed up to me.” She grumbled and you knew that was true. Her start on the team had been a bit bumpy. The whole situation was ridiculous. The two of you were cramped in about the smallest room in the whole building. A little storage room. You could feel some sort of utensils press into your spine, and you saw a box of pencils just over Emily’s shoulder. All in all, ridiculous to talk about something like this, at work, while hiding.

“No, he will not, Emily.” You pressed on, your hand still on her hip. Truthfully it didn’t really have anywhere else to go in this cramped space. “It might shock him a bit, but he’ll come around. Please, Em. You know how important Aaron is to me. I want him to know.” You explained what you had explained at least five times before and again gave her puppy dog eyes she rarely could refuse.

You could see her melt under your gaze and just as she wanted to answer the door to the small room opened, and you were faced with your brother’s usual serious expression. His expression didn’t change much, but you could see a subtle twitch of his eyes. His eyes wandered from you to Emily and back to you again. “Office. Both, now.” And he was gone. Emily groaned and closed her eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Em.” You tried to reassure her. You knew he’d probably be more disappointed than anything, cause you hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know you liked women. Emily let her head fall against your shoulder. “We had a nice few months, dolcezza. But I think I’m walking into my own death now.” She really had a hang for drama. Playfully you slapped her shoulder and chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, babe.” You said and took her hand to lead her into your brother's office. No point in hiding it now. Besides, you had the suspicion that Penelope had known right from the start and that meant that at least Derek knew as well. And JJ was perceptive, Spencer on the other hand not so much for a Profiler. But what does it matter?

You led Emily through the bullpen and up the few steps right to Aaron’s office door. It was open, and your brother was already looking at you. No need to knock, you thought. You simply stepped inside, Emily practically needing to be dragged in there behind you. You motioned her to close the door and very reluctantly she let go of your hand to do so.

Aaron got up and rounded his desk, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets. His features softened visibly. The way they did at work only if you were around. Or if Jack came to visit. “Why didn’t you tell me you like women?” He asked, and you saw a hint of surprise on Emily’s face in the corner of your eye. She didn’t know that he didn’t know. But contrary to what she probably believed now it hadn’t been because you were scared to come out or anything. You simply shrugged.

“I thought I’d tell you if I’ll ever get a girlfriend and then I kind of never did.” You said and looked at him a bit sheepishly. “But now I do.” You said and smiled proudly, which warmed Emily’s heart immediately and calmed her immensely. Aaron even cracked a very small smile. Then he looked at Emily at the small vanished. You grabbed Em’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“You’ve been here little more than a year and start dating my sister, Prentiss?” He said and studied Emily. You could say he was profiling her. Emily opened her mouth, no doubt to defend herself. But Aaron gave her not a second. “Remember, I’m your superior. Hurt her, and you’ll fly off this team faster than you can blink.” You had to hide a small giggle. Aaron rarely played protective brother. It was a bit funny to see almost all colour fade from Emily’s face. She interrogated Serial Killers, but your brother was too much.

“Alright, Aaron. Enough of that.” You said and drew his attention back to you. He softened a bit again and pulled you into a rare hug. No words. Just a hug. And that was enough. Then he rounded his desk and sat down again.

“You're invited for dinner on Saturday.” He said right before you were out of his office. It nearly looked comedic, the way everything in Emily’s face fell as soon as she heard him. You quickly closed the office door behind you and grabbed her hands.

Emily wasn’t the relationship type. She hadn’t had a lot of them, and they had never been very long. Or at least that’s what she had told you. She was always afraid of somehow fucking it up. You squeezed her hands until she was looking at you.

“It’ll be fine. He didn’t rip your head off now, he won’t on Saturday. And Jack will love you, which is basically the way to Aaron’s heart.” It did little to calm the brunette. She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.

“What do I wear? How do I act? Do I buy him something? Wine? I’ve never done this before, dolcezza.” She rambled, and it would have been cute if she hadn’t looked so worked up.

“You’ll wear something nice. Which you always do. I promise Aaron will just be wearing a T-shirt. You act like yourself which is the way I love you. And wine is a good idea but absolutely not necessary.” You assured her, answering one question after another. You had been so concerned about calming her that you hadn’t really thought about the exact words you had used.

“Love?” She asked a bit perplexed. Maybe it was a bit early but with Emily? How could you not love her. You grinned a bit stupidly. “Of course, you idiot.” She cracked a smile at that, and you were very thankful for that. You’d walk through hell to see that smile.

“Ti amo anch'io, tesoro.” She whispered against your lips, having leaned in. The kiss was a bit sloppy, cause you were both smiling like lovesick idiots. Which you kind of were.

“Oh my god, this is adorable!” A very excited voice called through the bullpen, unmistakably Penelope’s. Emily and you broke apart, laughing softly. You stood incredibly close to each other, hands still intertwined. Both your head turned, and you weren’t surprised to see the whole team stare at you. Most of them just smiled knowingly. Spencer looked like he had missed about twenty chapters, which her kind of had. His head turned from us to JJ next him.

“Wha-?” Everyone just laughed fondly. Everything was fine.

[joejhang]

my aftg hot takes

most of these are pretty lukewarm but i'm gonna get flamed for them anyway but whatever. spoilers ??? ahead ??? idk read at ur own risk

i don't think andreil ever say i love you to each other; i feel like the discourse about this is virtually endless ever since nora said it but honestly her explanation was so valid??? they're such a show not tell couple it just makes so much sense for them to show the "i love you" in their actions than ever saying the words out loud. esp bc neither of them have ever really heard those words and have them mean anything real or true or actually loving. personally i think their little percentages and the "i hate you"'s and kisses and keys mean more to them than an "i love you" ever could. i'm not a purist on this tho i do think i could visualise it happening maybe somewhere along the road i just think nora's explanation for this is very very in line with canon andreil.

i don't hate thea muldani; i've made a post abt this but basically my thoughts around her are literally just: she's a human being, and she's never gonna be perfect. i also find it very...interesting how the fandom likes to flame thea (an explicitly stated woman of colour) for being "problematic" and a "terrible person/character" when she doesn't act all that different from andrew, neil and kevin (white men) ??? idk it seems a little strange to me bc she seems pretty on par with them on whatever moral compass this batshit crazy fandom has decided to impose on these fictional and very much morally ambiguous characters. anyway go check out my post i go a lot deeper into thea's character and why she does a lot of things wrong but i don't rlly think she's deserving of the insane amounts of hate she gets in the fandom.

i don't think andreil ever get married; this MIGHT be me projecting bc the idea of marriage is just a very complicated and rough concept in my mind but also just i feel like there's something so beautiful about andreil never really putting a label on their relationship??? like they never define it by calling the other their "boyfriend" or "husband" they just are. they have nothing "concrete" binding them like a marriage certificate but they choose to stay with each other through everything. idk it's real to me but again i'm not a purist people can do whatever they want.

i've said it before but i'll keep saying it till enough people hear me: the aftg fandom mischaracterises literally the main fucking characters; i'm mostly talking about andrew and ESPECIALLY neil here bc neil is not a sweet, sunshiney, oblivious, blushy softboy and andrew is not a cold, unemotional, stoic, "conceal don't feel" stone. since i've already bitched on and on about neil's mischaracterisation let's just talk about andrew for a sec. i think andrew is actually a deeply emotional person and is fully aware of the feelings he experiences. does he vocalise or express them often? no but more often than not they show themselves anyway. him crashing out after neil was kidnapped, letting himself get walked like a dog by neil for three books straight, choking allison for slapping aaron, idk i could go on. but yeah you get it.

i don't actually think neil is that oblivious; before people come at me like "but nora said!" or whatever yeah, i know she said he's as dense as a brick when it comes to people flirting with him. considering how much of the ec the aftg fandom likes to disregard allow me to disregard this little bit of it, yeah? this isn't me tryna impose my own projections onto nora's characters, this is lit just me tryna explain how i understand neil josten (he's my bsf btw). he literally clocks his feelings for andrew in trk (after his deep convo™ with nicky) but he just files it away for later bc he doesn't consider attraction or romantic interest anything to be thinking about considering he's got the mafia and his serial killer dad on his tail. i also don't really blame him for not catching onto andrew's feelings earlier (tho doesn't he get pretty fucking close during that one convo they have in exites in trk???? someone correct me if i'm wrong but) bc dude andrew was out here sending fucking mixed ass signals like bro was saying "you are a pipe dream" and "i hate you" in the same fucking conversations like??? neil has always taken andrew at face value and he's not about to question him now. he's also never confused or uncertain about nicky or marissa and what their comments about him meant, he just genuinely does not gaf about them so he doesn't acknowledge them or pay them any attention in his narration. i truly truly think his dismissal of all the advances made upon him in aftg were borne out of indifference, not obliviousness.

have already said this in detail but i don't think andrew's actually a misogynist; the wording doesn't feel right. i'd probably describe andrew's distrust of women (esp. those in motherly/mother roles) as a similar ingrained wariness that neil has for older men. this is something borne out of trauma and shitty experiences that takes time and trust to unlearn. nora says a lot of things the fandom disregards and for me, this is one of those things i'm a little iffy about. misogyny actually isn't reflected in andrew's actions at all, i'd say. does he respect women? no. but he doesn't respect anyone unless they've actually earned it. and among the people he does respect and care for there are women (renee, bee). he doesn't treat women any differently and obv doesn't think they're any weaker than men are (considering renee wipes the floor w him their first sparring sesh). andrew's an equal opportunity hater and i don't think he actually has any sexist or even misogynistic tendencies. i think what is there is just a slightly biased worldview of disliking/mistrusting mother figures, given his bad experiences w tilda and cass (they've left him w more long-term emotional damage that's probably rlly difficult and complicated for him to work through esp considering cass did love??? him and he did want her enough to be willing to suffer dr*ke to be close to her; there's more to it but for the sake of word count i won't go into it) but honestly it doesn't actually show that much??? if people wanna say he hates women, sure, but for one, he doesn't hate a lot of things he's just very indifferent to them and two, he holds a pretty similar apathetic distaste for most people and things, so it's not like a very big distinction. i also think the whole "no girls" thing w aaron was very much a personal thing, and his mistrust of katelyn probably came from aaron's past (apparently negative) experiences w other girlfriends and friendships in general. and if i remember correctly the deal wasn't even "no girls" it was just "family only" which is why aaron didn't make friends w the rest of the foxes either. i digress but i don't think saying "andrew isn't a misogynist" is robbing him of any nuance as a character.

i like nicky and honestly feel similarly towards him as i do about thea; he isn't perfect and never will be and i think while the way he acts towards neil and others (see: matt, kevin) is pretty untoward and inappropriate, i also do see where he's coming from, esp after aaron's explanation of it. that it's a defence mechanism coming from someone who's experienced a lot of prejudice and harm because of his sexuality. obv i think everyone can agree his assault on neil was fucked up but i think nora was right in saying that nicky was high and drunk and not rlly in his right mind at the time, and he does apologise and i'm pretty sure she also said he and neil work it out privately anyway. he's a messy character and definitely not perfect queer rep but again, he's pretty realistic, and i think he's honestly a rlly well-written and complex character.

[menlove]

i saw on some of your posts that you say you aren’t an india truther, out of curiosity what do you think caused john and paul to have a fallout? do you think the resentment was more gradual and happened over 68-69? im sorry if you’ve answered this before but i love hearing about people’s theories of what happened in india and the aftermath.

sorry I totally forgot to answer this but for me.... hm. tossing under a readmore bc it got long oops

I think it was more gradual. like the way they act w each other in the get back sessions & just in general speaks more to something more unspoken happening than some big dramatic break up or rejection, at least to me. esp given how john & yoko lived with paul for a while in the summer of 68 (and talk about the world's worst throuple)

I wouldn't say I don't think Anything happened in india, but imo it seems more like.... I saw someone talking about how up until that point they were all on a lot of drugs & india was them getting off them for a minute & they sort of looked around and went "what the fuck are we doing? do I even know these people?" and that rings the most true to me I think.

some of the bigger reasons I have my doubts abt india being some huge thing where they fucked for the first time and paul rejected john are a) they still got along after that. things were weird but not much weirder than they'd been after brian's death b) paul wrote "i will" in india and I've talked before about how I'm 100% convinced that's about john and to me "will I wait a lonely lifetime, if you want me to I will" doesn't sound like the words of someone about to do any rejecting c) the infamous blowing the mic scene in get back is way too lighthearted and makes paul blush and giggle like they're just referencing fucking as a part of their relationship that happened enough to not be disarming. doesn't seem like john is being bitter or trying to egg him on and paul isn't reacting like someone that got called out for fucking john and then rejecting him. it reads more, to me, like just two lovers slyly joking around about a time they fucked that no one else can know about

which brings me to d) I'm also a "they had a sexual relationship" truther (which would be a whole other essay tbh) and so For Me Personally that just doesn't jive w smth big and dramatic happening in india. I just don't think they ever talked about what the fuck was going on between them, whatever it was, and then the typical band breakdown reasons coincided w a breakdown of their personal relationship as well. like just sort of dying out without much fanfare which can honestly be worse than some big rejection or breakup. and then ofc john goes full in with yoko and paul flounders around trying to settle down with a woman and marry her in such a weirdly frantic way. like that quote where he asks if he was supposed to be a 26 year old queer that never got married....... I would wager, imo, that things breaking down w john & then jane would've lead him to a bit of a Crisis about all that. but he found linda and went all in w her and she wound up pregnant so there you go.

which would lead them to a really weird place by the get back sessions, which I at least feel like is reflected pretty well- this awkward tension, paul's nervous desperation, nostalgia for the old times, lingering sexual tension. but not the attitude like they hated each other yet or had some big breakup or rejection. they're still joking and flirting, it's just awkward. the Big Moment would've been something else after that imo, probably john announcing he wanted a divorce but could've also been something more private that would go a long way to explaining why they were basically not on speaking terms at all by the abbey road sessions

again this is all Purely Speculation. mostly based on my more conflicting view from the fandom at large that they did have a sexual relationship and paul isn't as repressed/clueless as he puts on. so w those Two Beliefs in mind, this is sort of the trajectory that would make the most sense to me!

of course, without those two Core McLennon beliefs of mine I can see why people would point to india as the game changer if they think paul is a repressed bisexual who thinks he's straight while john pined over him. like it would make sense in that scenario if that's where the tension snapped & it was just a mess after that. but I very firmly and adamantly don't believe that so it's just hard for me to see the india theory as anything solid when there's a lot of other explanations for why india was such a shitshow

but all that is just me personally! don't have shit to back it up beyond what I can bring up about the evidence of a sexual relationship and paul being closeted that then lead me to these speculations based on that but yeah lmao

(and fun fact lmao whenever we publish it this is gonna be like half of the story of "i need you" so yall will get to see my fully baked opinion there mixed w just what I think would be fun or angsty dbshsjss)

[prentitsluvr]

this was gonna be a post about my emily headcanons but i got way too carried away with literally the first one so this is now a post about why i think emily is autistic. i'm gonna put a page cut in because this post got way longer than i intended LMAO

this is a huge one for me, i literally like, in therapy sessions i've been bringing in compilations of emily from each individual season and explaining to my therapist how the clips make her autistic.

i think she's autistic bc she skin picks, which is a form of stimming and also a compulsive/obsessive behaviour which a lot of autistic people (such as myself) struggle with.

a lot of the time when she jokes/is sarcastic it isn't picked up on by others -- such as in 05x20 when she talks about her 'sin to win weekend in atlantic city', it's most likely that she's just fucking with morgan (because of her confusion at the end of the episode until he clarifies and she suddenly snaps back into that sort-of joke), and also like in 06x10 when one of the police officers (?) is asking her if he could join the FBI if he had a prior and she was like "oh well if it was a mistake" and he was like "really?" and she just looked at him and said no

she's got a pretty monotone voice compared to the rest of the team, and the same with her facial expressions. i love looking at her next to rossi because he's very expressive with his voice and his face, and it puts it into perspective how little she actually moves her face (which is also quite interesting when you compare it to how expressive paget is)

she tends to make kind of strange eye contact. when she does make direct eye contact it's pretty intense and with quite Wide eyes. But a lot of the time she's a little avoidant with her eyes, she might look at the other person momentarily before glancing away again. an episode that comes to mind is 02x11 when she's talking to Hotch and she's talking about her mother and she has to look away before she's able to talk. when i was more masked, i always did this kind of thing, because making eye contact was so intense and took up so much of my brain that i couldn't formulate sentences, so i would look away to be able to think of words and then look back at the person when i spoke

she's really good at sort of acting/pretending to be someone else. we've seen this when she puts on a persona to talk to unsubs, and also when we found out she was undercover as Lauren for 2 years. this is often a form of masking/a sign of a good ability to mask. i know a lot of autistic people who've gone into theatre because they find it so easy to become a character, since they're already essentially acting in their everyday life

she's very secretive and doesn't trust easily. she relies on herself for everything. this could partly be because of her trauma -- her neglect from her mother (and seemingly absent father), which would've led her to have an avoidant attachment style. but it is also a trait of many autists who have learned that others can't be relied on to help us

she thinks very objectively and logically, but is also intensely passionate and has a very strong sense of justice. when she does let her emotions lead her thinking and actions, it's often to more of an extreme. what comes to mind for this is 03x05 when she finds out the little girl is being abused and she gets extremely intense about it (rightfully so) in a way we don't normally see from her.

she actually stims a fair amount. there's a lot of moments of her playing with something like a pen, bracelet, or spoon, and also the aforementioned skin picking. she also often has 't-rex arms', where she holds her arms up at her sides (similar to how reid does, although i feel his are more obvious and emily often only does one hand, which is the same as me)

the way she holds her hands while she's standing is common in autistic people, it's called posturing. she does a lot of small things like this

this post got away from me a little lmao, i could go way more into detail on some of these things (and more that i inevitably forgot about when making this list) but this was not supposed to be this long a post, or focused on just this one headcanon LMAO

[svltzmans]

begin again - h.m.

a/n: hi! this is the first angsty fic i've written so i'm very open to suggestions and thoughts lmao, even though everything i write is fluffy at the end bc i can't help myself

warnings: this is kinda sad but it gets better at the end i promise! exes to lovers, maybe a throwaway line about sex or two, as always i wrote this but didn't edit it 😁

y/n sits in her favorite coffee shop, nursing her mug delicately between her fingers.

the air outside was frigid, with each person walking on the sidewalk bundled up in warm jackets.

y/n had taken a liking to spending time alone in the café, enjoying a cappuccino or two and reading a novel.

something about the gentle hustle and bustle of the shop around her made her feel less alone, yet she felt like she could enjoy her solitude.

her reading glasses are resting on the bridge of her nose, her eyes following the lines of the pages at a quick pace.

y/n finds herself getting engrossed in stories quite often, including finishing an entire book in an hour or two.

realizing that she had finished her coffee in her trance, she brings the mug to the counter for a refill.

just as she starts her conversation with the barista, the door chimes as it opens.

an auburn haired woman walks in, her wavy locks resting effortlessly on her back and shoulders. her cheeks are a shade of pink, clearly from the chill outside. she seems confused, looking around the café like a lost child.

it's when she locks eyes with y/n that she finds what she's looking for.

y/n recognizes the woman as none other than hope mikaelson, her ex-girlfriend.

a shiver runs down her spine when she sees hope approaching.

she thinks it's a sign to walk away, but she doesn't.

she can't.

"hi," hope nearly whispers, her voice shy.

"what are you doing here?" y/n responds, a slight venom coming from every word.

hope doesn't know what to say. her mind scrambles looking for an answer.

"i, uh, coffee," she stutters, hoping that y/n would believe her.

hope knew that this was y/n's favorite café. y/n was fully aware of that.

and hope hated coffee.

nonetheless, y/n decides to just let it go.

"okay," she simply responds, taking her now full mug and sitting back at her table.

hope follows, preparing to sit. she waits for an objection from the girl across from her.

when she doesn't get one, she finally sits.

it's immediately awkward, a tension looming between hope and y/n.

"what's new?" hope asks, trying to break the ice.

y/n looks at hope with disapproval, then diverts her eyes to the ground.

"y/n, can you hear me out? please? i came to... to talk to you."

y/n keeps her head down, tapping her foot on the ground.

"i know i hurt you-" hope starts, before being interrupted by y/n.

"you broke my heart. you didn't 'hurt' me. it was much more than that to me."

hope sighs, briefly resting her head in her hands. guilt washes over her all over again, a feeling that had become familiar since her breakup with y/n.

"i gave you my all. my devotion, my support, my body, everything," y/n continues, growing slightly emotional. she speaks softly as to not disturb the peace of the shop, but the way she speaks makes her sound like she's yelling.

"and you just, ended it. and never explained it to me."

hope looks at y/n, tears welling in her eyes.

"that's why i'm here. i just, i can't stop thinking about it."

y/n takes a deep breath, looking back at her now seemingly exasperated ex.

"i just, i had never felt so strongly before. i was scared."

"scared?" y/n repeats, confusion evident in her tone.

"of the way i felt. it was all new to me. i don't think i had ever been in love before i met you, y/n."

y/n stops herself from softening at hope's words, keeping a blank expression as she explains herself.

"so you broke up with me because you... loved me?"

hope sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"it's more than that, y/n," she responds, defeat in her voice.

"i've been... hurt before. by people i thought i loved. people i thought loved me. i knew that couldn't happen with you. i guess i just... felt like i had to protect myself."

y/n feels her heart break at hope's words, remembering the pain her ex had endured.

"i understand," y/n responds, a single tear running down the side of her face. "it just... it was really hurtful."

"the way i handled it is my biggest regret," hope admits, twiddling her fingers in her lap. "you deserve better, y/n."

y/n focuses on her ex's face. she is truly beautiful, effortlessly looking angelic sitting across from her.

"i want to be the one to give you better," hope continues. "please give me another chance, y/n. i have never wanted something so badly in my life."

y/n can't help but smirk at hope, feeling flattered by her dedication.

"one date. and we'll see what happens from there," y/n responds, seeing the relief on hope's face. "i'm trusting you, mikaelson. i always have."

y/n stands up from the table, returning her mug to the counter and heading for the exit.

hope remains at the table, smiling to herself. she pulls out a small notebook from her pocket, titling the newest page "date ideas."

hope mikaelson knows she loves y/n y/l/n. now, she just has to prove it.

[ripdragonbeans]

Mine (Modern!Aemond x Reader)

yes this is based off of Taylor Swift's Mine bc I've been listening to Speak Now (Taylor's Version) on repeat since it was released

Thank you @theold-ultraviolence for being my beta reader again!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Summary: The story of your relationship with Aemond

WARNINGS: mentions of physical/verbal abuse, mention of s*x, panic/anxiety attack, violent argument, accusing of cheating

Starting at university is stressful. Transferring to a new one in your junior year is nerve-wracking. Yet here you are, completing – and passing – all of your finals for the end of the semester.

After completing all your finals for the end of the semester, and passing all of them, you decided to head out to celebrate the end of the year. Nothing too fancy, just chilling at one of your favorite spots in the city, Olde Town Diner. Many all-nighters were pulled here, thanks to the owners feeling sympathy for the college students.

You sat at your favorite table, next to a window to look out at the city streets. The drizzling rain outside helped create the coziness here that felt like home. After wistfully staring out the window, you came back to reality and began gathering your stuff. 

And that's when you saw him. 

Well, the back of him.

His silver blond hair tied up in a messy bun with a few loose strands in the back. Despite working at a very cozy diner, he held himself high as if he were royalty attending to his subjects with grace. When he greeted customers he simply held his hands behind his back. You couldn't stop looking at them. They were just hands, yet you were fairly attracted to them. 

As he finished taking the customer's orders he could feel eyes on him. He left them, turning to leave, only to immediately find your eyes on him. A smile tugged on his mouth as color crept up his neck. It was a brief meeting and as soon as it happened it stopped and he went back to working. 

You wanted to stay to try to talk to him but as thunder sounded you took that as your cue to start the walk home.

Tomorrow. You'll come back tomorrow. 

The chime of the bell greeted you as you entered Olde Town Diner. Mrs. Tully, who owned the diner with her husband, greeted you with a big smile. 

"Your table awaits you, deary!" She called.

"Thank you, Mrs. Tully," you said cheerfully. You were about to head to your table when your curiosity got the best of you. "There was a waiter here yesterday," you started, "I've never seen him before. He had silver blond hair?" You hoped it didn't sound too obvious that you wanted to meet him. 

"Oh, you must be talking about Aemond. He's been for a few days but his shift didn't match the times you would come in," Mrs. Tully explained. Mischief danced in her eyes. "Does our dear find the mysterious Aemond attractive?"

"No! I mean," you paused, "I'm curious about him, I guess. It wouldn't hurt to make another friend."

"Sure, deary," she winked.

You knew you were blushing and kept your head down to hide your smile as you went to your table. Denying your attraction to this Aemond only made your nervousness worse but you laughed it off. Since winter break has officially ended you were actually able to relax at the diner instead of cramming in homework. You took a moment to breathe it all in before pulling out a book to read, Assassins of the Night. Not only was it a fun read, but it completely immersed you into their world. You were a few pages in when Aemond appeared.

"Hey, my name's Aemond and I'll be taking care of you today. What can I get you started with?" The words flowed out of his mouth.

Looking up from your book you were able to see him. Once again, his hair was in a messy bun but this time you could see how perfectly it framed his face. One eye was a piercing violet while the other one had a beautiful sapphire in its place. His uniform consisted of a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; a silver chain, and black sacks. 

You couldn't help but stare in awe again, words completely unable to make their way to the surface. He was so gorgeous.

"Um… I'm sorry if you feel uncomfortable," he apologized, "I can get Mrs. Tully to come take your order if you want." Shame blazed across his face but it was gone as soon as it came. 

You blinked and came back to your senses, "No! I mean, I'm sorry. I was caught off guard. I've been coming here since the beginning of the school year and I've never seen you." 

Awkwardness hung in the air.

"Um, I'll take some blueberry pancakes with a cup of coffee."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll get that started right away," Aemond gave you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and turned on his heel.

A few minutes passed when Aemond came back with your food, "Blueberry pancakes and coffee." 

As he put the food in front of you, you gathered the confidence to ask him, "Would you like to eat with me?"

Aemond gave you a confused look. "I'm working right now?"

Embarrassment flooded you. "Of course," you awkwardly laughed. "It's just that I'm really the only one here and um…I wouldn't mind the company."

"I don't know you."

"No, but we could get to know each other."

Your eyes met his as you simply stared at each other, neither of you quite knowing what to say.

"I guess I can ask Mrs. Tully. She's been saying how I need to get a social life," Aemond let out an amused breath and went to ask.

He took all but two steps when Mrs. Tully yelled out, "SIT WITH HER, AEMOND. GOODNESS KNOWS BOTH OF YOU NEED OTHER PEOPLE IN YOUR LIVES!"

You both blushed as Aemond took the seat across from you. Tension hung in the air for a few moments. You were about to say something when Aemond beat you to it.

"What's your major?" He blurted. He looked slightly terrified.

"I'm a lit major, I enjoy reading and analyzing and writing," you explained. "I've been devouring four books a month, might as well learn how to make a career out of it, right?"

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I don't attend the university. I'm just…here," he took a breath. "I graduated from University of Old Valyria two years ago. I came here to start over."

"Wow, wasn't expecting that one."

"It usually takes people by surprise, those who ask."

"I get that, staying in the back. There's solitude in it. But it can get lonely."

"It really can."

For once, there was a comfortable silence. Genuine smiles graced both of your face, and soon enough, you and Aemond were talking about everything and anything - sharing stories, good and bad. You discovered both of you come from broken families. Aemond's dad didn't give a shit about anyone except his daughter from his first marriage. You told him that your mom and dad fought constantly. Sometimes it got so bad that small pieces of furniture would get thrown. By the time you and Aemond finished talking three hours had passed and Mrs. Tully began ushering both of you out, not without a knowing smile, of course.

"I just realized that you never gave me your name," Aemond said.

"Shit, yeah. Sorry about that," you gave him a small smile before giving him your name along with your number. "We should do this again, Aemond. I really enjoyed it."

"Absolutely. Not to be too weird or anything, but can I walk you home?"

As it turned out, you both lived at the same apartment complex and the same floor. You stood outside your door, unable to keep yourself from smiling, as you said your goodbyes for the night.

"I guess, but I don't want you to walk one way only to find out you have to go to the other side of town."

Over the next year you and Aemond continued to build your friendship. You knew everything about him and you, him. Every little facial expression, every bit of body language, you knew it all. 

As you were ending your final year at university you moved in with Aemond. You two were as thick as thieves, basically being a package whenever it mean going out. It was more than a friendship, though. It always has been. It was that neither of you wanted to admit it. Accidental brushes of hands, long hugs, the forehead kisses you insisted were platonic peppered your days. 

Until one day, Aemond decided to take you to the lake for the day.

"Aems, this is beautiful," you stared in awe at the sparkling water and the lush grass.

"I thought we could have a nice picnic away from the city. It can be a lot, you know? And we haven't left it since you moved it," he said.

"Aw, look at you, being observant," you laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he chuckled.

Playfully elbowing him you couldn't help but feel loved. No one ever thought about things like this concerning you.

You spent the entire day at the lake, splashing each other with water, eating sandwiches, reading, and simply enjoying each other's company. Too soon, the sun set and the moon came out.

"We should get going, Aems, it's already -," you yawned and stretched.

"Just a few more minutes. Look up," he pointed at the sky.

You raised your head up towards the night sky and gasped. The moon glowed soft and the stars were scattered all around it. You never saw the sky like this when you were growing up. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, nothing could top this. 

Until a shooting star blazed across sky. All you could do was stare at wonder and bask in its beauty. 

What you didn't see was Aemond staring not looking up at the sky, but at you. A smile graced his face when he saw how happy you were. He took this moment to scoot closer to you and put an arm around you. He's done this many times before but this time was different. Warmth spread through your body. You could feel your stomach start to coil and you suddenly felt nervous.

"Aems, meteor showers don't happen often," you stated. You closed your eyes as you asked the question, "did you plan this?"

Aemond ran his free hand through his hair. A blush crept up his neck. "Yeah, I did. I thought it would be a nice -"

You cut him off, "it's beautiful, Aems."

"There's something else I wanted to do, if you're okay with it."

"Of course."

Aemond leaned in slowly, giving you the time to choose to pull back if you wanted. But you didn't. Instead, you glanced at his lips then met his eye and smiled. You met him in the middle as your nervousness disappeared and joy took its place. His lips were as soft as you thought. The kiss was gentle and perfect. In that moment you knew that you two were made for each other. When you separated you couldn't help but grin wildly at each other.

"Yes, Aems, a hundred times yes," you said as you captured his lips in another sweet kiss. 

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked.

Living together didn't change much except for the kisses and touches. You were more intimate and I'm playful with each other. You shared even more secrets with each other, including your fear of being in a relationship similar to your parents'. 

Eventually, you got rid of your bed and moved into Aemond's room. That night was when you finally had sex for the first time. Like your first kiss, it was gentle and sweet. It wasn't fucking, it was making love.

Two years passed before cracks started showing.

At first it was over small things, dishes not being washed, the toilet seat left up, not taking out the trash. Nothing was ever said, both you and Aemond didn't want to deal with confrontation so you were passive aggressive to each other. You started to go out more, not realizing you were trying to stay away from the apartment. Aemond noticed this but never said anything, he didn't want you to think he was controlling.

But he couldn't take it anymore.

You came in late that night, around two thirty in the morning. He was waiting for you on the couch facing the turned off TV.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now, Aems," you said softly.

"I'm not," there was a bite in his words.

A pregnant pause.

"You don't think I've noticed how often you've come home late, how you disappear for most of the day?" 

"Aemond, you know I'm just hanging out with some friends."

He bowed his head, "who is he? Who are you seeing?"

Your eyes widened at the accusation. "You think I'm cheating on you, Aems? Do you really think I don't want you?"

Aemond stood up from the couch and stalked over to you, "It certainly seems that way. You won't even let me kiss you for too long."

"Aemond, this is ridiculous, you know I love you," you reached out to him but he pulled away.

He huffed, "Yeah, sure."

"I love you and only you," your phone buzzed. 

Aemond tensed, "Who's that?"

You rolled your eyes, "It's just a friend named Cregan."

Red flashed across his face. "Cregan. You mean Cregan Stark? That fuck boy?"

"He's not a fuck boy, Aemond. And he's just a friend!" You insisted but you were losing your patience.

"I'm going to bed," he said. As he turned around you heard him whisper, "Just go fuck him."

"Excuse me?" 

"You heard me," he refused to turn around to face you. "Go fuck Cregan."

"You know what, fine. It's not like you haven't been trying to get into Floris's pants too."

Aemond turned around so fast he knocked over a plastic succulent as he turned back to you. He grabbed the nearest thing to him, a set of keys, and threw it across the room. 

"Don't. You. Fucking. Dare. I've never touched her," he looked at you with such rage you wanted to back down but you didn't.

"Whatever you say, Aemond," you rolled your eyes and went to leave the apartment when something smashed into the wall next to your head. A framed photo of you two at the lake. You whipped your head around, fear in your eyes. You started to hyperventilate. You couldn't breathe.

The anger on Aemond's face was immediately replaced with regret. "No, no, please, I'm sorry, I didn't -"

You didn't let him finish as you ran out.

Running out of the complex you knew you had to get as far away as possible. You didn't know where to go, nowhere made sense, everything was wrong. Nothing was real. So you went to the only place that could bring you peace at this time of night.

The lake.

You hopped into your car and drove as fast as you could to the lake. It wasn't until you sat on the shore that you let the tears escape. Hugging your knees tight you did you best to stifle your cries. You were shaking. Nothing was right, nothing was real. This was a dream, it had to be. Your nails started to dig into your skin as you finally let out your cries.

A hand touched your shoulder and you resigned yourself to your fate. You didn't know who was there but it didn't matter. Everything was wrong, anyway. Nothing made sense. 

Then you heard him.

"Please, please," the voice begged.

You could tell it was Aemond. He knelt down next to you and placed his other hand on your knees. You balled yourself up tighter.

"I'm… I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

You could tell he was on the verge of tears but you didn't look up.

"I know I was wrong. I was angry and I let it fester and I took it out on you, please," he choked on your name. 

Nothing. You said nothing.

"If you want me to leave, if you want us to stop," he took a shakey breath, "just say the word and it can end. We won't ever have to see each other again."

Silence.

"Okay," he swallowed, "I'll go." 

Aemond removed a hand from your shoulder and went to stand up but your hand grabbed the other one on your knee.

"No, please don't leave me, Aemond." You whispered. 

You took a deep breath before unraveling yourself but you didn't look at him. Not yet.

He brought his hand to rest on top of yours. "I won't leave, I promise you I won't. I will never leave you alone," he gasped. You could hear him struggling through the tears.

"I was wrong. I was very wrong. What I said and what I did wasn't okay, it was far from okay. And I promise I have never looked at or thought about anyone else the way I do with you. I know you love me unconditionally but my paranoia got the better of me."

You looked at the lake ahead of you, "It's going to take time, Aemond, a lot of time until I can trust you again."

"I know, and I'm willing to wait." After a few moments of silence Aemond said, "I think of you every day, about this lake. I knew I loved you before then but watching you look up at the sky made it real."

You let out a chuckle as you finally looked at him, "I knew then, too, Aems." You took another breath, "I'm sorry for what I said, too, it wasn't fair. And for avoiding you. Work started becoming too much and I was overwhelmed and didn't want you to see me in such a mess, so I went out."

"We'll get through this, I promise," he took you in his arms and held you tight. "Let's head home. We'll take my car and pick up yours later."

You sniffled, "Okay."

Aemond helped you get up and walk to the car. Your legs were jelly, your body was drained. The drive home was silent but you two held each other's hands.

That night Aemond wrapped his arms around you tight. 

It took months, but through couple's counseling your relationship began to strengthen once more. Aemond saw another therapist focusing on sudden anger in case something sets him off again. He doesn't want to hurt you ever again and he never does.

[marsbarsfrommars]

alone with you (the only heaven I'll be sent to)

star wars: the high republic | rated t | complete | 2,344 words | avar kriss/elzar mann | fluff, a little hurt/comfort

summary

She nods and simply says the only thing she has to, “I understand.” 

“I knew you would,” he responds with a certainty that makes Avar's heart seize. 

or, in a quiet moment post-chapter 53, avar finds out about elzar almost dying on grizal

read

under the cut or on ao3 for better formatting

notes

first of all, this is dedicated to the person who headcannoned that elzar has burn scars on his hands from crashing his vector on grizal. I've tried, but I can't find their post, so if anyone knows whose post I'm talking about, please comment so I can tag them here.

edit: it's the lovely @ledalausnows and you should definitely check out her posts bc she's super cool!!

also, a huge shout out to the thr fans on tumblr: if it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't have finished this. thank you for all your support and I hope you enjoy this <3

this is the first time in at least six years that I've actually finished one of my wips, so while I'm a little proud of this, the quality might be questionable. my perfectionism made me proof read this so many times I could probably recite it from memory so I hope this is readable and I fixed all major mistakes. anyways, I hope you enjoy this

also, english isn't my first language, so please just ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes

content warning for mentions of scars, injuries, near-death experiences and past major character death. none of this is in any way graphic but I wanted to mention it anyways

The overhead lights in Avar’s quarters are turned down to a dim glow, and it's quiet apart from the gentle hum of the ship's engines. The night cycle must have started a while ago, but neither of them had noticed; both of them were too wrapped up in each other. Now, though, they're resting. Elzar on his back in her bunk, one arm gently wrapped around her with his hand lazily caressing her waist, and Avar on her stomach, half resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under her wandering hands. 

It's nice like this—peaceful. For a moment, Avar allows herself to forget about their upcoming task, about the possible danger the future holds, and just exist in this moment with Elzar. She feels more at peace than she has in months, possibly years. She slowly runs her hand down Elzar’s arm and intertwines her fingers with his, her thumb softly brushing over the back of his hand. The motion is familiar; they've held hands more times than she can count in those weeks since she escaped the Occlusion Zone, but there's something that makes her pause. It only takes her a moment to realise that tonight is the first time since that fateful night in the garden on Starlight Beacon that they've held hands without the barrier of Elzar’s gloves between them. Elzar wearing gloves is in itself nothing out of the ordinary for a Jedi; most of them routinely wear them as part of their robes, which explains why she hasn't noticed it before. Now that she really thinks about it though, it does strike her as odd that she can't remember seeing him without gloves even once since their reunion. 

She slowly brushes her thumb over the back of Elzar’s hand again. The skin feels rougher in some spots. Avar knows the feeling of scars, enough of them are covering her own body, but she can't recall Elzar ever suffering an injury to his hands that would cause scarring this significant. She raises their intertwined hands to his chest, and sure enough, a thin web of healed fine-line and burn scars covers the back of his hand and wrist. An uneasy feeling settles in her stomach. What happened to Elzar to leave his hands scarred like this, and why wouldn't he tell me? 

Elzar, sensing the subtle change in her demeanour, chooses precisely this moment to open his eyes and look up at her. And for a moment, as silly as it may sound, she feels overwhelmed by the sheer force of her feelings for him. She had missed him for years, and sometimes, even though it's been months since their reunion, she still can't believe she doesn't have to anymore. Avar is certain he already knows what she wants to ask about, but he doesn't say anything, waiting for her to take the first step, so she does. 

“These aren't recent.” It's a remark, not a question. She knows Elzar will tell her everything without her having to ask. There are no secrets between them; nothing is left unspoken. Not anymore. The thought makes a familiar warmth bloom in her chest. 

“No.” Elzar’s voice is soft, reserved for the quiet of quarters and whispered secrets after dark. “I got them on Grizal when my Vector crashed. The healers at the Temple did their best and apparently Bacta also helped a lot, but they couldn't prevent the scars.”

Avar furrows her brow. “I didn't know you were injured on Grizal.” She feels Elzar's body tense ever so slightly underneath her, anyone else wouldn't have noticed, but him and her—and Stellan, of course—have always shared an unusually deep connection, and now they're as attuned to each other as they haven't been in years, perhaps ever. 

“It was at the end of the battle. We thought we were winning, but we didn't know there were Nameless on Grizal. I don't remember this part at all, and most of what came after is pretty blurry in my head, but Stellan later told me that he saw my Vector go straight down. I don't understand why, but I must have passed out when the Nameless appeared. My Vector caught fire when it crashed, and the cockpit bubble shattered. I wasn't wearing gloves that day, that's why the damage to my skin there was so severe. Ty pulled me out, saved my life. I don't remember anything after, but I know Stellan was with me.” 

Avar takes a moment to process all of this. When she finally speaks, her tone isn't accusatory, there may be a tinge of hurt to it though. “Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Stellan?” she asks. Before Elzar can answer, a terrible thought takes shape in her mind. “It's not that you thought I wouldn't care, is it?” 

No matter what happened, she had never and would never stop caring about Elzar and Stellan. She knows without a doubt that it's the same for them, but she and Elzar hadn't spoken for a year at that point, and her relationship with Stellan had already been strained, so what if they had started to doubt her? Avar lowers her head. She's not sure she can look him in the eyes when he answers, the possibility of what she'll see there—of what he'll see in her—too overwhelming. 

Elzar draws his hand away from her waist to gently cup her face and tilt her head up until her eyes meet his again. His gaze is earnest and there's an urgency in it—he needs her to believe what he says next. She already knows she will before he can utter a single word because she trusts him implicitly, and she knows that trust is mutual. 

“No, I never thought that, I promise.” He pauses for a second and takes a deep breath, “And I know that Stellan didn't either.” 

Avar lets out a shuddering breath and tries to quell her bubbling emotions, which threaten to spill over at his words. Even so, her voice sounds a little shaky when she asks, “Are you sure?” 

Elzar nods sincerely. “I am. Stellan wanted to comm you, but I told him not to. We argued about it, and he relented in the end.” 

The sheer relief she feels at his reassurance is dampened by one burning question, but she doesn't have to ask for him to tell her. 

“I wanted you to know, I really did, but you were halfway across the galaxy fighting the Drengir and I didn't want you to be distracted.” He briefly averts his eyes, as if he's unsure about his next sentence, before he says, “I thought if you found out, you'd want to come see me, but we both know you couldn't have, and I didn't want to make it harder on you.” 

Part of her wants to argue, wants to protest that she would have come if only she had known. But Elzar is right; she couldn't have. Still, she wishes someone had told her. But of course he wouldn't want that, she should have known. Elzar tends to view himself as selfish, but she has always known him to put the wellbeing of others, particularly hers and Stellans, above his own. 

“And later?” she prompts gently. It's certainly not a conversation either of them had expected to have tonight, and she never wants to push him, but they've spent so much time keeping things to themselves in fear of crossing a line that hardly existed in the first place, and what good did it do them? 

“As bizarre as it sounds, almost dying wasn't the worst experience I had that week.” Now it's his voice that sounds shaky. The experience has clearly affected him more than he's currently letting on, understandably so, and Avar sends a burst of warmth through the Force. 

“When I was fully healed, everything was still so chaotic after Valo and Grizal, and there was so much going on that it just didn't seem that important.” Avar hates that he thinks that way but doesn't interrupt him; there will be time for reassurance later. “I got used to the scars fairly quickly, and even though they should be a constant reminder, I hardly think about it now. And I don't wish to. I've made my peace with everything that happened and everything I did then, I truly did, but I still don't like to remember it.” 

Avar understands, of course she does. Enough bad things have happened to her in these last few years that she's made peace with, as is the Jedi way, but still doesn't like to think of. They're the same in that way. She nods and simply says the only thing she has to, “I understand.” 

“I knew you would,” he responds with a certainty that makes Avar's heart seize. 

There's a pause in their conversation then, both of them processing and coming to terms with what was and what hasn't yet been said. Avar is the one to break it when she says, “Please never do that again.” 

Elzar quirks an eyebrow, the tension caused by their conversation slowly melting away. It seems he has decided that the heavy part of their conversation is over, which Avar truly doesn't mind. “Which part? Almost dying or not telling you about it?” 

“Oh, do shut up,” Avar says, but there's no heat to it, just affectionate warmth. 

Elzar laughs softly and pulls her down for a gentle kiss. Far too soon, Avar pulls away again and cups his face with her free hand, her thumb gently stroking his cheek. This time it's her who needs him to believe her next words. Her voice is soft yet insistent when she says, “I care about you, El. I don't want you to get hurt. And if you do, I want to be by your side if it's in any way possible. And even if I can't be, I want to at least know, please.” 

Elzar nods, every trace of playfulness gone from his face and replaced by sincerity. “I know, and I promise you, the next time anything of the sort happens to me, I will tell you.” 

Avar nods as well. “Good.” 

A slow smile spreads across his face at that and the tenderness in his eyes is almost overwhelming. Avar thinks if she had a mirror, she'd surely see it reflected in her own eyes. 

Elzar turns his head and presses a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist, and she feels the familiar warmth spread in her chest once again, chasing away the last remnants of distress. 

She leans down to press her lips to his once again, their connection in the Force glowing with love and understanding, making her feel almost giddy. 

The kiss turns heated when Avar slides the hand still cupping Elzar’s check back into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands, pressing her lips to his with more urgency. Elzar responds in kind by wrapping his arm around her waist once again and pulling her as close as their current position allows. She feels butterflies in her stomach at that, like when she was seventeen and kissed him for the first time. It amazes her that time and distance haven't dulled the effect he's always had on her in the slightest, but then again, how could they? He's Elzar, after all, her Elzar. 

They don't belong to each other, of course not; there's no possessiveness to their love. But they belong with each other; side by side always. They both know it and the Force rings true with it. 

They break apart, eyes closed and foreheads still pressed together. The kiss has left both of them breathless, as kisses like this often do. Once they've recovered enough to open their eyes and ever so slightly pull away from each other, and Avar really gets to look at him again, she is hit with the realisation of just how beautiful Elzar is like this. She doesn't think there has ever been a moment where she hasn't thought of him as beautiful, but seeing him like this is something else entirely. The dim glow of the overhead lights is reflected in his dark eyes, his hair disheveled from where she ran her hands through it earlier, a soft smile gracing his lips. A sight that's reserved just for her. 

Avar's musings are interrupted when Elzar starts to speak again, his voice still sounding a little breathless. “Avar, I…,” he begins but then trails off, unable to finish his sentence. It doesn't bother Avar. She knows. 

She pulls their still-intertwined hands up to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles, then the back of his hand, then his wrist. She feels his sharp intake of breath more than hears it, and when she meets his eyes, he's gazing at her with a look in his dark eyes Avar can't quite place. Later, she will come to recognise it as pure, unfiltered devotion. 

“Stars, Avar,” he murmurs. 

Elzar seems to know exactly what she's thinking—or maybe he just shares the sentiment—because he kisses her again, his hand slipping under her shirt to gently caress the bare skin of her waist. It's an exquisite kiss, and for the moment Avar allows herself to get lost in it, in this, until the only thoughts in her head are how lovely it is to feel so at peace, and Elzar. Always, always Elzar. 

“What is it?” she asks. For a split-second, she's scared she's overstepped, but Elzar just shakes his head and leans up to brush his lips against hers in a tender kiss that ends far too quickly for her liking. If it were up to her, he'd never stop kissing her, she thinks, only slightly bothered by the fact that she sounds like a character in one of those stereotypical Jedi romance novels Kantam and her used to read to each other for fun in their Padawan days. 

[smoshsfavoritepizzaplace]

*RANT INCOMING*

I'm sure you've seen Court's latest ig story....

DAMN!

This is literally the definition of parasocial. From what I've seen though, most comments are pretty light, I assume they blocked the more egregious ones already.

I understand why people are assuming this, besides those that are invasive/don't care. The word craving is typically associated with pregnancies, but does not inherently mean as such.

I remember them being on the GameGrumps : 10 Minute Power Hour and their apple watch went off for their birth control alarm and people went crazy then as well before they hard launched🤦‍♂️

I mean come on... birth control does way more than what the name implies people!

I don't believe that everyone is trying to pigeonhole Court into the "wife" box, because I did see some comments genuinely offering advice if they were expecting given the wording. Regardless, I believe it was more the people stating that they've thought this for a while...

🤬WTF!🤬

This isn't the 1950s why do they need to even have a child in the first place? Amanda talked about this in a Reddit Stories a way back, explaining how triggering it is to put that immense pressure on women to have babies. Especially after they get married, like they can't do anything else?

Nevertheless, Court shouldn't have to even put this out there and question never posting about their personal lives again. No wonder why Shayne literally posts NOTHING!

I only say this to show the double standard, but Shayne doesn't get any of this flack. Don't get me wrong I love the guy, this is just because of the world we live in. They talked on Smoshmouth how they didn't want to be labeled as just Shayne's wife, but here we are I guess🙅‍♂️

Don't people remember Court's last wedding tweet mentioning this as a weight off the shoulders for both of them? Saying they will discuss things in their own time when they are good and ready, I mean HELLO?

I hate that people either forget or more clearly don't care that these are real people who see this stuff, even if they think that they don't.

I seriously can't stand people sometimes😩

RESPECT PEOPLE'S BOUNDARIES!

Sorry bout the rant, I just needed to blow of some steam.

✌

I agree with everything you said. To add on tho, I never understood why people comment on someone being pregnant. Like if I were a celeb and I was possibly pregnant, I would want that to be something special I announce on my own time. It’s kind of the same thing where people guess others on their sexuality before the person can even muster the courage to come out themselves. But anyway, did Courtney say she was having cravings? I thought people just assumed she was “pregnant” out of the blue and not drawing a conclusion from something, I must’ve missed that. Either way, I really wish Courtney can be left alone bc they go through way too much. She has been mistreated by fans since she joined smosh and I really hope they don’t drive her away and make it not enjoyable for her again.

[our-arospec-experience]

(srry if this is a long rant or somewhat vent-ish but i rlly need to get this off my chest or maybe get some advice about it)

(also tw bc there is a mention of suicide in this)

I've been in a qpr for a little bit with this friend of mine and im starting to wonder if i want to get out of it, if qprs were actually for me and starting to ponder how we got together too...

my friend (alloromantic <- this is context for later) was actually the one who asked me if I wanted to be in a qpr because a while before I'd mentioned the term and she'd asked me to explain it - which i did to my best ability. She'd been broken up with not long before that and this, along with other factors such as the fact that I kinda have struggle with saying no bc I dont like upsetting people - especially people I'm very close to and I didn't want to completely ruin our friendship bc I knew that she can be a bit emotive and this would rlly make things awkward for us led me to saying yes and getting into a qpr with her. I'd only rejected one other person who asked if I wanted to be in a qpr and that was over text where i could get my thoughts out coherently and also because i knew that friend wouldn't ghost me or anything.

Anyway, we were already pretty close so actually it didn't change much about our friendship other then the fact that she kissed me on the cheek one time.

We communicated what we were fine with (hand holding, hugs, occasional kisses - usually forehead or cheek though) and other things - one of the things I told her straight away was that if she wanted a romantic partner she was free to tell me she no longer wanted to be in a qpr. I knew that she was a very emotive and attached person - she has admitted to the fact that she likes to shower her romantic partner with affection, focuses a lot of energy on them and can be a little more clingy and also that she's rlly not open to poly in those sorts of things (romance - she said it was chill in a qpr but neither of us got other qpp anyway). So I wanted her to know she had an out straight away and that she should know that if she ever wanted to get out of this qpr esp for a romantic partner or honestly *any* reason it'd be fine. She agreed but told me she wouldn't ever actually need to do that.

Anyway, time went by and it seemed like we were drifting apart and we were actually more distant *after* labelling ourselves qpp then before we had. At some points I kinda got it bc during exam season she was rarely talking to anyone and not rlly online, plus we were still decently close within classes so i thought it was fine - though there'd also be moments where she would clearly forget that we were even in a qpr until some sort of like, idk, trigger word was said and she'd turn to me and be like "oh yeah! we're in one of those! :)"

And then she got a bf and it kinda got worse - don't get me wrong i'm rlly happy for her and in full support, in fact I was the one who told her she should go through with confessing cause I could see that it was eating her up from the inside - but I was right about her putting a lot of focus on him. She'd constantly talk about him in class or over text and gushed about things that he'd made her or she'd made him and i'd sit besides her as she talked about how they wanted to be the same thing in the future and about how she was already kinda planning their future. Additionally she even stopped doing stuff that she had previously labelled completely platonic like holding my hand (probably bc the way that her morals are wired she probably saw it as a bit of a betrayal) and idek if her bf knew that we were in a qpr in the first place (then again - she did forget and only remembered again on like the last couple of days on the leadup to the end of school but that didn't change her behaviour).

And though Ik that obviously i should respect her boundaries (which I do) i wish that she'd just quickly told me stuff like "hey i got a bf so i dont rlly feel comfy doing such and such.." instead of pretty much just stopping out of the blue. Additionally i kinda wish one of us would end the qpr but she's barely ever online anymore and i dont see her irl till school starts and once again, i'm *terrified* of hurting her. she's a rlly close friend and also has had some mental issues surrounding depression in the past and also has told me that she has a fear of being left behind/not good enough for the ppl she loves/hurting her loved ones and though ik that now adays she relies on her bf more for that now (which i admit prolly isnt that healthy) and we dont rlly talk as much i still never want to hurt her like that esp since literally one of the first times we talked in a while (still during the school term) was where i stopped her from almost taking her own life. (she's gotten a lot better since then and having her bf around seems to have genuinley helped heaps with that which is another reason to why im happy for them - bc i love when my friends are happy)

And honestly idk how to feel about it, she's my first qpr and im wondering if i even wanted one in the first place - the only other person who's ever asked me was another friend who i was super close to and she did it online - i gave myself some time to think before answering and turned her down which she took rlly well! On the other hand with this one she asked me after school and I needed to catch a bus - I'd talked about qprs a lot and a part of me felt like I wanted one or i *should* be wanting one - so even though at the time I wasn't rlly sure I said yes - additionally she's a pretty emotive person and i knew that if i rejected her there was a possibility that it'd be awkward for months and i didn't wanna ruin my friendship like that. I'm starting to think that maybe i said yes more out of my fear of hurting her and ruining a great friendship then out of the fact that I *actually* wanted a qpr bc the more i think about it the more i realise that i like the idea of a qpr more then i like the practice in actuality.

Anyways this is kinda a jumbled mess i feel and there might be some stuff that's repeated, but i appreciate you reading it and any advice you happen to have.

I'm sorry anon, I'm not the greatest at relationship advice. Do you have someone you trust irl that you could talk to about this? They may know an approach that would help you and your qpp better than I will.

[prettyboypistol]

Okay so how about getting ruined by engineer, bc he got frustrated that others were messing with his work.

So to help take his anger out, you let him go as rough as he wants. And can use whatever toys he wants on you.

Blowing Off Steam || Engineer x M!Reader +18

[Rough Sex][Spanking][Dirty talk][Ambiguous Genitals for Reader][Oral][Engie calling you a "good boy"]

minors dni

A loud bang on a desk made you and your coworkers jump and look directly towards the thundering sound. Dell pointed to the door and demanded in a voice none of you had ever heard come out of him before. It was cold and laced with an edge of danger as he demanded only two words.

"Get. Out."

You had been glued to your place in the room as the other men slinked out(or, if you were Scout, sprinted). Dell glared at you, but you could only put your hands up in a surrendering gesture. You and Dell had been messing around with each other for a couple of months now, but the post-sex pillow talk had really brought you two together.

Dell stormed past you and slammed the door and loudly locked it, only to drag himself back to his workbench as he dropped his head onto the metal table. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. was the only noise that echoed through the garage as he hit his hardhat against the steel. You couldn't help yourself. You stepped forward.

"Dell," You murmured gently, "hey man, wanna talk about it?"

Your Engineer groaned in response. "He's been, pardon my fucking language- fucking around with my machines again!"

"Scout?" You guessed.

"No, Demoman! That bastard's been tinkering with my turrets for a week now!"

Oh, that was a surprise. Tavish wasn't too bad of a person from what you had seen, but you couldn't condone drunken tampering with your man's machines.

"And like, yes the man's brilliant. Fuckin' amazing at bombs and explosives. I've looked over them- uh, them sticky bombs! Brilliant! But that don't give him the right to sneak into my workshop and fuck with my babies!"

"Oh I absolutely agree. There's a difference between explosive intelligence and mechanical intelligence. Two very different fields." You didn't know really what you were talking about, even then, it just felt right to say that. You were speaking off the cuff, and apparently it worked.

"Y'see, I don't think he'd like if I snuck into his testfield and "upgraded" his toys." Dell grumbled, his gloved hand drummed rhythmically onto the table. You tapped on the table to tell Engie that you had arrived at his side, then rubbed his shoulders. He sighed as you tried to work the knots out of him.

Dell let you explore his back through your massage, his temper dulling with every push and knead. Suddenly, you were flipped onto the table with Dell kissing your neck with an open mouth. While you weren't too upset with the change, it was quite surprising.

He tugged your shirt up as his hand slid around your chest, his large hands groped your chest as he sighed into the crook of your neck.

"Y'know babyboy, I think there's a great way to help me blow off steam, if you're willin', of course." Dell murmured before he kissed your ear softly.

You couldn't help but smile.

"Well go on Professor Genius, blow off some steam."

He shrugged his overalls' straps off of his shoulders as he kneeled down, your pants quickly unbuttoned as Dell completely overwhelmed your senses as he went right for the spot he had found that made you hold back a scream that he had found last week. Your hand slapped over your own mouth as he swallowed and laved his tongue in the exact ways that ruined you. God, he was evil.

You had given him fair warning, really! You knocked his hat off, you grasped at his shoulders, hell, you even near-sobbed that you were close! Still, he carried on and took all you had until you couldn't help but kick him away from the oversensitivity. Dell seemed to take that personally, if him grabbing you and placing him over his lap was anything to go by. "Say 'Bee' if I'm too hard." Dell explained. Before you could comprehend what he meant, a harsh smack to your ass made you squeak. Again and again, Dell spanked you until tears welled in your eyes. With every wind up and subsequent slap, Dell grumbled about the situation, accenting every grievance with a spank. After he was apparently done, he manhandled you oh so easily into sitting in his lap. He shushed you and gently kissed your neck and cheeks as his gloved hand reached onto his workbench to grab a little container of lube. He unscrewed the cap and dipped those large and boxy fingers of his deep into the liquid, only to press the slicked fingers against your entrance. "Good boy, c'mon, let me in." Dell crooned. "Let me get inside you darlin'." It felt like seconds, but soon enough Dell lined himself up and pushed you down onto him. God, he was too fucking thick for his own good. His hands on your pelvis tightened as he lifted you up and down in tandem with his hips pumping into you. You felt used. You felt as if he wasn't the Dell you loved, but a man full of horny anger that needed a release. Somehow, that was really fucking hot. "God dammit, I'm so fucking pissed off, love. So. God. Damn. PISSED." Dell ranted as he railed you. Every word was accentuated with a deep push inside you. "Ohhh why can't people leave my shit alone, hm? These nasty fuckin'-" The ranting felt like the horniest dirty talk that could ever be uttered as you sobbed in pleasure. You couldn't do anything but beg and whine as Dell rearranged your guts. There wasn't a real way to tell when Dell was close, but he suddenly switched positions to place you bent over the desk. "Good boy, fuckin' take it. Lemme get you all ruined, okay?" Dell growled as he made your screams bounce and echo off of the walls. You could only let out an excited moan and nod as he sped up. A loud groan and stilling was the only signifier before you were pressed down with rough hands and a chest against your back, keeping you in place as Dell came inside you. A few little pumps to drain himself fully made you sigh and giggle in delirium. "F-feelin' better?" You mumbled. "Yeah." Dell assured as he kissed your back and neck. "Thank you darlin'."

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (final)

Being a footballer means Martin possibly has every resources in his whim, and that includes obliterating the blurred lines between him and Eve.

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.7k

tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); unprotected sex

Note: i know i've made you guys as frustrated as Martin in the gif above so i'm putting you out of misery (#spoiler) and i hope you guys forgive me lolol but as usual, i happen to write this around dawn so ofc not beta-read yet. oh, and i'm changing the term solstrålen into solskinn (including in the prev parts) bcs it turned out google search failed me, thanks @multifamdomfan12 for correcting me! &lt;3

Tags: my lovely loves @julianalvarez9 @formula1tina @okayline @mehrmonga @mrswhitethornbelikov @notleclerc @laurensficrecs @soccerwag9 <3<3

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

“I expect to see you again soon, dear Eve,” was the last words Martin’s mother muttered before she and the rest of the family boarded the car Martin had chartered to get them to the nearest tarmac.

With the glint on her eyes, Martin knew her mother meant what she said and he, frankly enough, didn’t think he’d be ready to face the day he had to break the news to her mother that Eve and him were no longer happening. Her mother seemed so delighted with Eve, utterly wishing deep down that Eve was already a part of their family by some sort of extension called marriage.

Doors were closed behind Eve, and suddenly Martin’s house was too humongous for the two of them. Instead of appreciating the big space, Eve hated the way the hollow silence that followed after. It was suffocating, to say the least, and Eve wanted to run away as soon as possible.

Martin noticed the uncomfortable shift Eve played between her right and left legs, indicating she was in an awkward situation, and Martin already hated the fact he needed to have a legit justification to have her in his arms without any fight.

To have her in his arms like they still had someone else to impress, but without having to put up the act.

But who was he to wish upon the stars when the object of all his desires repelled him the way mosquitoes repelled the hazardous substance men made to annihilate them?

Who was he to wish something too futile to happen?

“Let me get the car keys—”

“No need, Martin,” Eve wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around the living room in search for her totebag. “I can go home by myself.”

“Out of the question, Angel—”

“You should drop the pet name now,” Eve’s stern tone stopped Martin on his track. To say he was surprised was an understatement, and he wished he’d never seen the exasperated look in her eyes, for it was laced variously with emotions he’d rather not name. “No one’s around. No need to put up an act.”

“But…” At Eve’s outburst, Martin didn’t realise his arms fell helplessly on his sides. “That’s your name.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not what I’m talking about.”

For several, intense moments, neither of them did anything but to hold each other’s stare.

“Fine, Eve. Have it your way,” Martin finally conceded to the pressure because if there was one thing he couldn’t do well was holding grudges. Put Eve as the subject and Martin would be fucked twice over. “But you should let me explain something in return.”

An eye for an eye, Eve realised was what Martin’s modus operandi, so she nodded. Anything to get this agony done and over with, anything to free her of him. Her body and soul couldn’t take anymore of Martin she somehow fell in love with in the midst of this whole charade, knowing that version of Martin never existed in the first place.

“What is it?” She said as she looked up slowly to meet the oceanic blue eyes she had grown accustomed to, but she never expected those magical orbs to be right in front of her in a flash of a moment like a lightning struck.

Before she could register on anything, Eve felt the plush cushion of his lips closing down on hers, sealing her voice box from the world with a surge of desperation lingering in the upper and lower parts of his lips, and she was scared of what he asked of her behind the kiss.

She was afraid of what he asked of her, as he goaded her parted lips for a further access to the mouth he’d always loved for saying all the right and wrong things that made Eve as she was now. The smart, the funny, the witty Eve.

She was terrified of what he asked of her, as she lost herself in the mortifying pleasure of having him traced the inside of her cavern with his tongue while tracing the curves outside with his hands, and before she knew it herself, he’d pinned her into the nearest wall, his hands holding hers up in a lock on top of her head.

She was frightened that, despite her fastened hands, she felt liberated this time around—and maybe Martin had liberated them both with the kiss—because everything felt so right in this moment.

Because while she was now familiar with his lips on hers now, Martin had never poured his body and soul and everything of his existence into a kiss. This was new, and this was raw, and Eve was so overwhelmed by the sensation because only now did she realise this was Martin—all of him, bared to her, desperate to cling on whatever’s left of her that he’d come to love.

This was real.

“Ask me something I never do.”

Eve gasped as she felt the pad of Martin’s thumb wiped away a streak of tear running down her face. She really should tell Martin it was out of happiness now. “Martin—”

“Ask, Angel.”

Another trail of waterworks escaped Eve as Martin’s eyes stared down at her intently, yet somehow so… forlorn. She never wished any of this to happen to either of them, least Martin of all people—the one who’d brought back her dignity the night of Christmas Gala. “What’s something you never do, Martin?”

“I never pretend when I’m around you,” Martin whispered the words against the pair of lips he’d come to love so much, for both the taste and the sensation that came with it, and Eve could feel the desperation lingered in the small space of air between them; of not being able to kiss her, not before she understood his points of elaboration, not before she had all her questions answered. “I’ve always kissed you the way I want to, having audience or not. I don’t care if anyone else sees us or it’s only between us just like right now.”

“But you’re pretending to be my boyfriend at the—”

“You think I was pretending but I never say anything about me pretending from the beginning, Angel,” His eyes reflected immense anguish, yet his words resonated with truth and determination, and Eve’s head was spinning beyond belief. “So I never have. Everything I do whenever I’m with you is within my purest intention and everything I say to you is my outmost honesty.”

It took Eve a full 5 seconds to digest everything, thanks to Martin’s intoxicating scent that was able to short-circuit her brain. “So the gala wasn’t a sham.”

“It never was for me, at least.”

“But it’s your idea to do that.”

“It’s my one and only crazy idea so I can get closer to you,” Martin rested his forehead on hers gently, in hope she could see what he was trying to convey; that he was tired of this charade as much as she was, especially when they were fooling themselves by denying everything that could’ve been between them. “It’s the only way I know how.”

“You used my desperation to—”

“Yes, but I don’t regret a thing,” Now Martin was truly wearing his heart on his sleeve. Eve never said about not giving a fight to him, and he’d expected that. “I don’t regret anything I do with you, and I’m sure I never will. Call me selfish but I was desperate, too, at that time so you can see me.”

Still, it hurt Martin the same every time Eve’s head moved back inches more than the distance he’d managed to claimed before. “But if you never pretend around me, you must’ve absolutely despised to see me every day.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You never reply whenever I say good morning.”

“So ask, Angel,” Martin’s hands headed south and back to cradle her face like she was a fine china—and for him, it felt that way, for how precious she was to him—and his thumb caressed out the crumpled lines between her eyebrows ever so softly. “Ask me why I never reply your good morning.”

“What?”

“Ask me why I never reply your good morning, Angel,” The Norway’s youngest captain repeated, and Eve was relieved when he reached up to her forehead to place a featherlight kiss on the same spot where her crease of confusion appeared, for she couldn’t stand another second of Martin looking down on her as if his world would end the moment she said anything that implied no to him. “No matter how much I want to give in.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to have to end with her asking the one thing she’d been dying to know but the way Martin’s lips tickled her skin and the way he inhaled the scent lingering from the shampoo she donned earlier… she’d choose this over breaking the fragile bubble they were in. “Did you hate them?”

“I abhorred them, Angel,” And there he was—Martin was back gazing down at her, and gone was the gentle but miserable captain that was hanging his sanity on a thread. He’d returned with force under his arsenal yet this time, Eve wasn’t intimidated like the last time she’d encountered this side of Martin. “I hate them because it reminds me that you treat me like everyone else,”

And Eve couldn’t hold back her stupefied gasp.

“I thought I made it obvious on my first day that I’m so… enamoured by you,” It was tragic to Eve that Martin was spewing every of these meaningful words about reality he’d been living with a smile that was anything but, and it took away her joy from the fact that this was real and she wasn’t hallucinating that she thought this was real. That she wasn’t the only one who wanted this to be real. “But you certainly think I’m just being friendly to you when in reality, it’s not it, and I hate it so much,”

And Eve vowed, as well as shooting upon the stars, that she didn’t have to see that bitter, artificial smile ever again.

She didn’t waste another breath to pull Martin down to her, capturing his lips in a deep kiss—so deep she had to close her eyes in contentment, and a sigh escaped her lips. The huffed air was Martin’s sign to ask for entrance, and she granted him the entire access to her body and soul the way he’d bared his earlier, and the clash of tongue was a rather welcomed reaction, along with the messy movements of their hands finding each other’s available exposed skin.

“Please tell me I didn’t mess up my chances with you yet,” While one hand was resting on the nape of Eve’s neck, the other one was tucking away the strands of her hair to the back of her ear. His eyes were roaming from the hair, to her eyes, to her lips, and Martin had to close the gap between them once more because he couldn’t help himself. “I’m so afraid I’ll fuck up and I lose you again before I know it.”

“Just don’t put me through such thing again.”

Eve didn’t have to open her eyes to know Martin was hiding his smile behind the smouldering look he granted her—a slight movement of his lips against the rim of hers was all it took for her—before he closed the gap between them with nips on the corners of her lips, the cupid bow, her nose, and finally landed perfectly back on the middle of her lips, claiming the gate of his existence once more like he never left her bereft.

And to be graced by the silent proclaim was Eve’s honour, for she had never felt an abundance of emotion from deep within of one’s self unlike any other from Martin. Should anyone catch them in their current position, it would be palpable for anyone to see that Eve was close to liquefying herself into a shape only Martin could mould of her, in only ways Martin could forge. Her lips were beyond repairable from the nibbles left on the trail every time the blonde man changed his course to devour her to the very last taste, her garments were beyond salvaging from the harsh movements that reminded her of the captain’s passion on the pitch and yet she welcomed the crude touches full of desperation on her skin.

She was exposed for anyone nearby to see, being the most daring she’d ever been in presence of someone else and her mirror at home, yet she felt so secluded and secured in Martin’s arms, for his body engulfed hers in ways she knew he wouldn’t compromise her dignity—to anyone, even to him.

Her head was busy configuring as to how Martin could orchestrate everything she was feeling like it was second skin to him but she should’ve known better. The moment she lost herself into his touches and was only brought to Earth when his hands grazed her bosom and only teasingly passed by the core of her heat, just to settle one of her leg on his waist, that Martin Ødegaard was truly living up his moniker of the maestro.

No one could’ve played her frustrations down to being close to a string left like he could, no one would’ve played the sanity she was hanging by a thread the way Martin did, and managed to get away with it unscathed of wrath. Yet, Eve was nothing but a puddle of mess under his subtle dominant.

“Martin, please…”

Her moans, masked by broken gasps, were enough for Martin to take her away from the poor plastered wall. Not because he didn’t want to take her against the wall—partly because he wanted only the best for her, partly because there was another time for that—but because he knew if they’d become undone right here, right there, he wouldn’t have the energy to hold them together. He knew they’d be sensational together, conjoined in the hips and lower in an earth-shatteringly manner, and he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, despite being an athlete.

And he knew, as he lied her against the white faux material of the rug he’d immaculately placed in front of the fire place in this wintry weather, with the faint yellow glow casted on her face and her refined, soft silks of hair strands behind her, that his decision was proven better than he thought it would be.

Eve had never looked so ethereal, and he couldn’t believe this goddess-like being was now captured under him, helpless against the arms locking her sides—his angel, his fallen angel.

“Hello there, my angel,” Martin peered down at her, nuzzling his nose against hers, and Martin Ødegaard was unequivocally enraptured by the bedazzling smile she granted him at the gentle gesture, and he hadn’t even begun the ministration of what he had in mind. “You fit perfectly in my arms,”

And he was truly a goner by the way she was giggling—how much he’d been missing that gleeful sound without the constraint of a mere fake couple play between them—as he settled his nose deeper to the crook of her neck, sniffing Eve’s signature parfum she liked to spray along the length of her neck, while his fingers ran down the outer sides of her arms. The ticklish feeling was what probably enticed the melodious sound of her carefree laugh, her true carefree laugh, not the one he was used to hearing paraded around the London Colney for mere courtesy.

But Martin was something else altogether when Eve let out unrestricted whines as his nose and lips pursued the track downwards, from the neck to the open space of her chest, against the space between her ample breast, on the small space under the mound, across her ribcage. So uncalled for, especially for the effects those sinful sounds imposed on his cock. So dirty, so disgusting, yet he yearned for more.

Thus, explaining his bold move further down south.

Just as he was peppering kisses against the inner parts of her thighs, Eve arched in the ways that could put half-moon to shame, with her agape mouth and breathless pants as her hands were practically flailing to find the most stable ground to help herself, only to end up with plucking the faux material with one hand and another one gripping his shirt for life.

She sat up at the sudden realisation Martin was yet discarded from his clothes, and he stopped his deliverance at her movement. “What’s wrong?”

Eve didn’t say anything verbally but her hands lifting up the colour that complimented his skin very well said it all. Martin halted her rushing hands effectively, like he did hers when they were pushed up against the wall a bazillion years ago. “Oh no, my love. Tonight’s about you.”

Eve couldn’t hide the shivers that ran down all over the body at both the newfound nickname—and she loved being called by nicknames Martin found suitable for her—and the intonation he used to cover his obvious intention.

Martin sat back up on his knees, and the sight of him shedding his shirt was certainly something that would haunt her for days and days after today, especially when he had to be away for his job. Realising Eve was ogling at him, Martin laughed unreservedly for the first time since the both of them scrapped off the last bits of their shitty acting withstanding.

“Oh, shut up, Martin,” and the man could certainly get used to being pulled down by the woman who’d never vanished from the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to erase her. She kissed the way she looked; sun-blazingly hot with passion and fierceness like she wouldn’t see the light of the day tomorrow, and he could feel the last restrain of himself melted away as her hands travelled down his chest, his ribs, his well-built abdomen.

“I like this,” Eve traced down the sixpack line stretched across his midriff, her movement so gentle yet it constricted the muscle tighter than the workout machines at the gym. “Don’t show it off to anyone else.”

“Say you’re mine and it’s all yours to see, Angel,” Eve looked up to the man towering her, covering her against the moon wanting to peek at the moment they’d been dying to have, and Martin almost came undone at how innocent she looked, face held in his hands, in contrast to how devious her fingers were at. “It’s always been you.”

Eve didn’t need further reassurance to pull him down to her, crashing their lips together in ways that reminded her of waves crashing against the solid rock on the edge of the ocean. His lips were showering her with cold water against the warmth of hers, and hers were pouring him calmness against the sun. Yin and yang found each other, at last, and they both moaned at the sensation the both of them had been liberated at best from whatever holding them down.

They were floating on the rough waters, so high in each other’s frustrated and desperate kisses to find solace in each other’s undone, but nothing could compare to the moment the lovers were fully, entirely intertwined with each other. Eve felt so full of Martin, and she wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Martin had to control his breath, just as what his trainers told him to do on the pitch ironically enough, as he felt Eve welcoming him with the warmest hug he could ever receive from someone, both inside and out. He couldn’t help himself but pull her closer to him, flushed against him, every air making their way in between them was something he considered a disturbance.

“Oh, Martin,” Her breathing was ragged, so did Martin’s, and it pushed Martin to drive her closer to the edge. “You feel so good against me.”

At her words, he went the deepest he could plunge himself into the sweetest hellhole that was Eve, and her body went tighter, inside and out he could see veins almost bulging out against her temple. She was halfway there; he could see it in her gaze, in what he could make out of her extremely flushed cheeks. Who was he to grant delayed gratification to her?

“Say you’re mine, mitt solskinn,” One touch against the swollen, pretty clit of hers, and she slowly peaking her highs. She was so beautiful, chasing her release under his touch as he pounded himself into her relentlessly for his own end, despite the dirty, slick mess she was making against his hands. She panted his name like a prayer, and it delighted him to no end that he was the only one who could provoke such a sensuous siren. “No more denying between us, Angel.”

“I’m yours, Martin Ødegaard,” and he felt that down to the bones as he’d reached his high at her words, like the passcode to his own ending, and as the morning came lazily upon them, he’d never felt as whole as that moment. Although he’d had Eve in his arms countless times before, because he now knew that despite the stormy weather outside, he’d always have his sunshine shining brightly in his arms, beaming radiantly as she whispered, good morning, baby.

Martin didn’t have anything else to respond her but to give her the same blinding smile—the biggest he could muster, anyway, which was still pale in comparison to the force in his arms, settling well like a little spoon she was.

“You really lost against me.”

The once-wonderkid could only laugh at her comment. You could count on Eve for her smart mouth. “Well, if this is what losing feels like, I really don’t mind at all.”

“That’s it?” Eve had to pull her head back from the tight cocoon they were sharing, and she absolutely wouldn’t complain to wake up to those clear blue Nordic eyes every day. “Where does your whole athlete competitiveness go?”

“You feel like my biggest victory anyway.”

Because sunshine has become Eve.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊THE END＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

and that concludes my first ever (mini) series! wow, i didn't think this was possible in any way so thank you, to each and every single one of you, who's spared your time to read the entire series and even left comments on the posts. i hope i didn't disappoint you midway or in anyway. bcs really, if i could hug you guys rn, i would so i'm just gonna send loves to you guys ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and see you on the next one!

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 35 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 2 | lesson 34 | lesson 36

normal and hard spoilers

can i just start off by saying "the heart's murky depths" is a crazy title for the lesson opener ???

oh he's down HORRENDOUS, but his pride won't let him show it

talking about some "not that i want you to stay or anything...but you should stay and be a professor at RAD so you never have to leave my side 🥺👉🏽👈🏽" YOU AIN'T SLICK !!! I'VE KNOWN YOU SINCE PRE-COVID 2020

*ahem* my bad

LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER i wanna go home...kind of. like yes mc have a hard time dealing with the idea of leaving, but it's not like they'll never see a version of the brothers again. they're more likely to never see mc again, but you never know with all the time soup shit

i feel like lucifer feels indebted to them in some capacity since they did help bring the brothers closer in the span of a few months max. idk i feel like he's not only sad about them leaving, but doesn't know why they're choosing to go a roundabout way when he thinks they could literally ask barbatos to make a portal and send them home. the whole losing magic thing also wasn't explained to him, it was just stated as fact with no explanation

idk i'd be skeptical if i was lucifer too

i still think he wants mc to stay just as much as they do, if not even more, but he's better at hiding it. i also think he's protecting, but maybe that's just me protecting ??? idk

or MAYBE he's mixing up their desire to stay in the devildom in their timeline, but can't differentiate it since he's not as knowledgeable about time itself. so he's not wrong, but he's not entirely right either. mc is split, and they think having all the pacts will make the decision easier since it's already what everyone's expecting them to do

...we're gonna have to go with lucifer, aren't we?

don't get me wrong, i love him down, but can't they just talk like regular people 😭 the avatar of pride really can't put his pride aside for 2 seconds like damn /j

i just KNOW he said "oh but it is" in the most sarcastic voice ever. like sharpay from high school musical type shit. love him down

dickhead older brother lucifer is my favorite kind of lucifer bc he's just like me 🫶🏽 except i'm a dickhead older sister. like there was no need for him to say that AT ALL, but he had to get the last word before he disappeared with mc for 3 days with no contact just to piss his brothers off

i love a wholesome family dynamic just as much as i love them being shitheads to each other

damn why are you always on dia's dick ???? BACK UP

the shitheads 🫶🏽

(random side note, idk if everyone plays the game with the sound on, but i play it with headphones on. the screeching train noise scared the SHIT outta me oh my god 😭 my dorm mates probably think i'm crazy)