#it took me a while to understand the ending

[lunajay33]

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

•Masterlist•

I first met Shane when my older brother Rick first started bringing him around the house, I never thought much of him but as we got older he started flirting and we only started dating when I turned 22, about a year ago, it’s been fun but then I lost my brother and then the world got taken over by walkers and that leads to now, camped out in a quarry on the outskirts of Atlanta

We took my sister in law, Lori and my nephew with us but after being here for a while Shane’s been treating me differently, like I’m just a burden to him

Sitting around the fire I’m sat across from Shane as he’s right next to Lori, I understand him wanting to console her her husband died, but he was my brother and I’m Shane’s girlfriend I just thought he’d try to console me even just a little

“You alright sweetie?” Dale asks from next to me

“Oh I’m fine thanks for asking though” I smile trying to brush it off but inside I’m hurting deeply like I’m loosing everything

“I think I’m just gonna head to bed early” I say standing up to leave, all Shane did was glance at me before his eyes went back to the fire, Carl got up and gave me a quick hug

“Night auntie y/n” he smiles, he’s always been the sweetest kid

“Night honey” I walk away as the cool of the night started to envelope me, instead of going back to the tent I went down to the quarry shore, I knew how to take care of myself around walkers I just need to be alone

I sat down feeling all the pressure weighing down on my chest, I lost my brother, then the world ends and now my boyfriend treats me like garbage, what else do I have…….whats the point

Finally letting the tears fall I let it all out before I hear branched snapping behind me, I turn nervously wiping the tears away sighing in relief when I realize it’s just Daryl Dixon, thankfully not accompanied by his ass of a brother Merle

“What’re ya doin down here alone” he asks his eyes squinted at me but for some reason he didn’t make me nervous

“Ummm just needed to get away, what’re you doing down here?”

“Just came back from a hunt saw ya down here……wanted ta check on ya”

My heart skipped a beat, something I haven’t felt in a long time now

“Come on let’s get ya ta bed” he huffed motioning back towards the path, it was a silent walk up to the camp but it was a comfortable silence

I got to mine and Shane’s tent when I hear his fast heavy footsteps heading our way

“The hell are you doing alone with Daryl Dixon” he groans gripping my arm and roughly pulling me away from Daryl

“Shane that hurts, he was just keeping me company” I look back at Daryl and I swear if looks could kill Shane would definitely be dead on the ground

“Get lost Dixon, go back to your dick of a brother” Daryl’s eyes landed on mine and I could see them soften before he left, the further the got the more I wanted to run to him instead of being near the person I should be safe with

“The hell were you thinking”

“Like you’d care” I sigh looking down to the ground

“What’re you talking about you’re my girlfriend of course I care”

“I can’t do this right now Shane I just wanna go to bed, I think I’m gonna stay with Carl tonight, Lori can stay with you bet she’ll love that” I brush him off and walk past him to the smaller tent Carl and Lori stayed in, thankfully they were still out so I could just finally have a moment of peace

How could I feel more peace and safety around a redneck man that I barely know, than my boyfriend I’ve known almost my whole life

I quickly drifted off to sleep welcoming the darkness

•

I woke up early the next morning to the subtle chirping of birds, I quietly left the tent trying not to wake up a still sleeping Carl

Looking around there wasn’t anyone up yet so I went at sat at the camp fire that still had some embers burning

“Hey, what’re ya doing up so early” I hear next to me seeing it’s Daryl again, usually he’d have a snippy attitude with the others in the camp but lately he’s been nice to me and I honestly didn’t care why I just needed someone to cheer me up

“Just couldn’t sleep much I guess, I’ve got a lot on my mind” I say poking at the fire

“Here” he grunted handing me a granola bar he must’ve gotten from his stash

“Thanks”

Then he was gone dissapearing through the thick tree line most likely going for a hunt again

Slowly people started to filter out of their tents and start getting ready for the day, I see Shane making his way towards me with his typical scowl that he never use to use towards me, I look away and turn my back to him

“Have you calmed down since last night” I scoff looking up at him as he towered over me trying to scare me asserting his dominance

“Just leave me alone, you only act like I matter when someone else is giving me attention, tell me do you even love me anymore?” He paused for a moment before answering

“Of course you just gotta stop being selfish I’m trying to console a grieving widow”

“Yeah well he was my brother Shane, did you forget that, just get away from me” I brush past him going towards the trees for some peace and quiet but when I’m deeper in the woods I feel him behind me squeezing my shoulder and he pushes me against a tree

“Shane what are you doing let me go”

“You better watch your mouth don’t forget who saved you when all this started” now he’s trying to guilt trip me

“I could’ve made it on my own, I probably would’ve been happier alone” he raised his hand before a bow zipped between us landing on the tree next to us

“You touch her like that again don’t think I would beat your ass down” Daryl growled coming closer taking my hand and putting me behind him as he stared down Shane

“You think you could take me Dixon, you may be a filthy redneck but don’t think I won’t take YOU”

“Shane just go away, why don’t you go check on poor Lori” I say holding onto Daryl’s arm tighter out of fear, a fear I’ve never felt around Shane before

He huffed before tromping off back towards the camp, when he was far enough away I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I let all the emotions flood me

“God Daryl I’m so sorry to get you mixed in this, I don’t…..I don’t know why he’s like this, he never us to treat me like this and I’m…..I’m scared to be around him now” he takes both my shoulders in his hands and makes me face him gently

“It ain’t yer fault peach, I’ve been around my share of angry men and he’s a ticking time bomb, ya can’t be stay around him”

“If you can’t tell I don’t have no where else to go” my chest felt like it had a thousand bricks on it

“Ya can stay next ta me, we got an extra tent”

“Are you sure, what about Merle won’t he be mad”

“I can deal with that grump, come on let’s get ya settled” I’ve never heard Daryl speak so much but I can’t complain he’s like my saviour right now

•

We got the little tent sat up next to him that was a bit further away from the others but I didn’t care much, the further I am from Shane the better

“Thanks for all this Daryl” I say as we both finally settle down around the fire he sat up since night was falling

“Look at this, my lil bro got himself some tail” Daryl was cut of before he could speak by Merle’s grating voice as he plopped down across from us at the fire

“Merle give it up”

“She staying here now, good ta know we got some action right next door” he grins that sends unsettling chills down my spine

“I’m not doing that Merle for the thousandth time, I just needed some space”

“Finally figured out yer cop boyfriend is cheatin on ya?” My heart stopped, suddenly everything made sense, why he always stayed with Lori, why they’d both dissapear at the same time, why Lori could barely look me in the eyes

“Oh my god I feel so stupid how did I not notice I must look so pathetic to everyone” I groan as I drop my head in my hands

“He dont deserve ya, he’s the pathetic one” Daryl said softly as I heard Merle’s steps retreating into his tent, Daryl must’ve shooed him off

“You know why my brother first got shot I was a mess, couldn’t leave his side I was always so filled with anxiety I was basically wasting away but one day Shane convinced me to take a day to myself so I did, I went home and cleaned up and everything, the next thing I know Shane is busting in dragging me to the truck telling me everyone is dropping like flies and my brothers dead, then suddenly he treats me like a piece of trash, only Lori mattered, and…..he almost hit me today, that’s not the man I knew something’s wrong with him, sure he’s always been a bit hot tempered but this is different and all I can think about is……what is he comes after me again but no one’s there to help me” I sigh finally letting everything off my chest

“Ya ain’t goin no where alone anymore, I’ll protect ya” he said gently placing a hand on my back for a moment before it was gone again

“I can’t ask that of you, I’m not your problem”

“Believe it or not, yer the only person in this camp that doesn’t drive me up the wall, I’d like ta keep ya around a lil longer” he smiled as his words cheered me up a bit, I’ve never seen him genuinely smile and it’s making me feel all light headed

“Let’s head to bed……it’s been a long day” I stand up heading to my little tent as he did his next to mine

“Night D”

“Night Peach” his gaze stayed on me for a moment longer before he entered his tent, only making me think what life would be like if I had met Daryl first maybe I’d me happier

•

Part.2<-

[deadsetobsessions]

Am back! For a bit!

-----

“Your eminence! We have offered you the blood of virgins! We honor your presence with our offerings! Please, descend!”

In the thundering roar of “High King” being chanted throughout the dank basement, the floor opens up with a screaming split of the earth. The awe-

"Ew, no. I want enchiladas, not blood. I'm not a vampire, weirdos."

"... Pardon?"

"Not a vampire," Danny repeated, frown as prominent as the ice crown around his temple. He lazily floated about the summoning circle, puttering here and there to check the sub-par offerings. "I don't drink blood or whatever. Knock it off."

Danny glared, eyes glowing toxic green and pointed slowly at every member of the cult. "You ever spill blood again, innocent and/or unwilling, I will make sure every wound you inflict will be returned tenfold on your loved ones."

"Yes, your majesty." They trembled. Danny nodded.

"Then... what would be an acceptable offering, your majesty?"

"I literally just told you. Enchiladas and make it spicy." Danny looked around, understanding that an enchilada for payment would make him an underpaid Ghost King. "And... cash." Danny nodded decisively, turning sharply to the leader of the cult in order to make his kingly cape billow out dramatically. "Yes. Cash. I want a lot."

Hopefully this'll deter them from summoning him too much. There's only so many excuses he could give to his parents about his disappearance before they caught on. Then again... it was his parents, the Drs. Fenton, so they're never gonna catch on.

The cultists remained silent, until a young voice tentatively piped up. "There's a really good food truck two streets down. I can go get something...?"

"Good thinking, Initiative! Keep it up and you'll be a Sworn Member in no time!" The woman on the left of the cult leader praised and shooed the brightly smiling Initiative away.

"...How much money do you require, your majesty?"

Danny held up his hand in a claw shape, gloves sparkling with the cosmos themselves. "This much. No, yeah, this much."

"Is it me or does the King have a midwestern acce-ow!" Another initiative hissed as his friend elbowed him in the gut.

The leader cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I shall promptly retrieve it."

Danny dismissed the leader, patting himself for a trick well played. If they didn't want to get scammed, maybe they should have thought of that before spilling people's blood. He turned to the woman, the second in command. "So... why have you summoned me?"

The second in command began to give him a well-practiced speech. She was quite convincing, if only she wasn't advocating for the end of the world. When the two people came back, Danny made grabby hands at the foil covered plate keeping him away from his (free!) dinner. He shoved the wad of money into his chest (and enjoyed the cultists gaping at the storage he had, that's right, be jealous) and took a giant bite out of the enchilada. Delicious.

"Yew know wha' I thin'?" Danny mumbled around his mouthful of enchilada. "I'm the king o' the dead. Why make the world end faster if you're all gonna come to me anyway?"

"But- but we gave you the sacrifice!"

"You think a plate of enchiladas. a wad of cash, and some blood is worth the end of the world? This is the consulting fee. I happen to like living food. I kill living people; ergo, no more living food. Comprende?"

"But-!"

"You paid the consulting fee. I'm giving you the wise council of maybe rub your two braincells together and stop being stupid. And you-" Danny pointed at the second in command. "Maybe consider being a lawyer. Or a politician. Thanks for the food!"

With that, Danny disrupted the circle and go the hell out of dodge, cackling all the while as he took another bite of his enchilada.

----

Word got around- cultists are notorious yappers- and suddenly Danny got bombarded with summonings that ranged from murder to test materials.

"If you cheat, your afterlife is going to suck."

The high-schooler sighed. "Life sucks now, though."

"Valid. Tell you what. I'll help you study-" Danny crammed a handful of M&M's into his mouth, a twenty dollar bill tucked securely into the savings jar he's kept to carrying around in his ghost chest. "And if you pass, I'll let you see your deceased dog..." Dany squinted. "Uh, your dog...Potato Man..? again."

The teen straightened. "Fucking deal."

"Why Potato Man?"

"If I pass, I'll show you."

----

"You summoned me on Thanksgiving. Seriously?"

"You celebrate Thanksgiving, your majesty?"

"More like I celebrate the food." Danny mumbled. "Your consulting fee is that."

"What? But we just made that!" The family screeched in despair as he floated closer to the fresh mac & cheese.

"Too bad, so sad. Now, what did you want?" Danny asked as he pulled the foil pan closer and began munching. Delicious. And it wasn't becoming sentient to attack him!

"My mac and cheeeeese," the dad sobbed. "Why is death so cruel?"

Danny shoveled another serving spoonful into his maw. Delicious

----

"I- uh, brought this as an offering?" The person held up their box full of neatly organized cat toys. "Cuz... someone said you mentioned something about a demon cat?"

Danny twitched but gratefully took the box. "Thanks. It's my sister's cat. What can I do for you?"

"Uh. So. Is it like," the person waved their hand around, gesturing to themselves hopelessly. "Is it okay if I'm... you know..."

"Having no fashion sense isn't actually a crime."

"Hah! No, I meant. That I'm not cis?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"So I'm not going to hell?"

"That depends. It depends on a lot of things, like murder or which religion you subscribe to, but it never depends on what gender you identify as. The gender dysphoria goes away when you're dead, by the way, because you're reverted back to your soul. Your identity is tied to your soul. Denying it is like denying your soul. Humans love to do that for some reason." Danny shrugged, idly playing with a toy bee.

"Oh." They look relieved. 'Thanks. For answering."

"You paid the consultant fee, right?" Danny shook the box, grinning as the box shook ominously with bells. The hell cat was going to hate him even more but Danny didn't give a fuck. "Any other life questions?"

"What's the meaning of life?"

"A different meaning than the meaning of death, duh." Danny grinned at their scowl.

"That's cheating!"

"Says the one who summoned the Ghost King to ask about the mysterious afterlife."

They flushed. "I had questions!"

"So do a lot of people, but you don't see them summoning the Ghost King about it, do you?"

"Okay, so I've got a bit of a dramatic flair..."

Danny pointedly looked down at the summoning circle drawn in glitter pen.

"...Just go."

"Yeah, I'm going, I'm going."

----

Danny was summoned into a pho shop. A good one. He knew, because there was a quiet kid doing homework in the booths and one manning the till.

"I want a train bowl, please. Extra lemons and coriander."

A bowl is silently handed to him.

"Thank you." He relished the soup.67 The summonings have been scarce lately, and he wanted to enjoy this giant ass bowl with no shame. "So, what's up?"

"Do you know Buddha?"

"Yes?"

"Does he watch over us?"

"Yes?"

The girl in the corner booth started praying. "Hi, Buddha. Could you make sure aunt Kathy minds her own business? I know you're all about virtue but-"

The presence of Buddha chuckled at the halfhearted plea.

Danny snorted. "Is that it?"

"Yes. Thank you."

As a current college student I refuse to believe Danny as Ghost King doesn’t answer summons. As soon as people start summoning him he starts demanding home cooked meals and fat wads of unmarked cash.

That they started off summoning him with the blood of virgins was a bit distasteful, but once he told them to knock it off (threatened to take whatever harm they do to innocents out on their skin, tenfold) they seemed to get the message and started giving him offering of home decor and kitchen appliances instead.

All things being equal, they don’t even ask for much in return. For most of them, just the confirmation that he exists and is “”watching out“” for them is enough. Although lately he’s started giving his cultists random junk (a nice rock he found, a handful of marbles, a piece of scrap metal from his parents lab) and telling them they’re sacred artifacts of great power, as a joke.

[misshuntereevee]

when you finally remember your past with your dragon, because i really just needed MC to remember. i needed the pay off. so here we are.

content: pure fluff

buy me a ko-fi 🫶🏻

You didn’t know what to expect. The protocore floating in front of you glistens red and you realize all at once that it is an aether core. Just like the one in your heart and in Sylus’ eye. You don’t know what possesses you, but you reach out, almost to grab it—

And then you feel it. A whole lifetime of tragedy and loss and also love… ramming into you at full speed. A kiss in a meadow of beautiful red flowers. A hand gently touching your face. The dragon you met while angry and lost. How you became each other’s worlds…

A gasp crashes out of your lips. A million memories, a million stories. Footsteps are heard from behind you. You realize you’re still in battlefield, you should be more careful -- but how could you? How could you when you just remembered everything. You raise your gun only to realize it’s Sylus who's entered the area.

“It’s only me, kitten.” His voice comes almost as a purr. He doesn’t seem to notice you’ve had an epiphany. You dropped your gun down to your lap, your breathing hard. Everything... came flooding back.

Because your dragon. He’s here. He’s always been here. You’d always felt that he was something more to you. That you’d known each other. Your gun clatters to the floor as you stare at him. Completely shell-shocked. He seems to be concerned now, although he only lets it slip by a slight furrowing of his brow.

“Sweetie?”

And just like that, you’re bolting to him. You catch air, landing into his arms. Your own arms go around his neck, hugging him tightly. He catches you like it’s nothing, holding on to you.

“What is this?” He says, his voice tinged with amusement and confusion.

“I remember. I remember you, my dragon.”

He pauses, and unlike Sylus’, his voice is shaky as he responds next. It sounds unsure, like he doesn’t know whether to believe it.

“You do?”

And then the song. The harmony he’d played you weeks ago. You remember the ending now. The end you never got to play because you’d end up in his arms, distracted. You remember that so clearly...

In that past life, you sit with him in his cave. He'd acquired an organ through a raid he'd performed on an abandoned city. Most times, Sylus found, humans would destroy each other, and he only had to pick up the pieces.

But Sylus didn't know that you knew how to play. His little sorceress. You took the seat at keys, staring at it with a gentle smile. He felt almost like he was intruding. Like this was a personal moment between you and the organ.

But to his amazement, you turn to look at him -- before patting the seat next to you. He didn't know what to think, but he sat next to you. You're so beautiful to him, as you start to play. Halfway through the song, right after the melody, your hair falls in your face.

While pushing it out of your face, your hands pause on the keys. You're both stuck in this moment. His hand on your cheek, your gentle eyes boring into his. How they could make him, a dragon, feel so vulnerable, he'll never understand. But one look from you is enough to level him.

And then you're both kissing in earnest. The keys play an ugly note of dissonance as they slip away and into his hair. His mouth explores yours, all while telling you how beautiful the music was. How he was going to covet it while he coveted you.

Later the next day, you heard him humming it as he polishes his gold. You make a note to play it more often. However... you never finished. You always got distracted by him.

So you hum it to him now. Proving to him that you remember. Realization crashes over his face. His red hues widening ever so slightly. That’s all he needs to hear before he’s lifting you up in his arms. His hands are firm, stern, but not harsh. Never harsh with you, his everything.

Both of your legs straddle his hip, and he’s looking at you, his eyes burning with passion. “I’ve waited so long,” he rasps, his eyes boring into yours. His forehead falls against your own. “I was starting to think I’d have to be content, making new memories, but here you are. My little sorceress.”

You don’t even realize tears are falling down your face. Your hands desperately touch whatever they can, mapping out his face. He doesn’t stop you, soaking up your affections.

“You’ve always loved me. Through anger, kindness— oh my dragon. My Sylus.”

There is a hint of a growl at that, and he kisses you deeply. He’s surging forward, using the fact you are in his arms to press you against a tree. The battle is long since over now, and he's focused on you.

“Say it again,” he demands, even as he continues to steal and roam your mouth in between words. It's like he's a man starved. He needs to hear it. He's waited so long.

He gave up everything for just the hope of you remembering again, and here you were. Sylus needed to hear these words as sure as he needed to breathe.

“Mine. My dragon!” You say in-between giggles and his incessant lips. You aren’t complaining though. He peppers against your skin, every inch that he can find. All while you're crying happy tears. "Don't leave. Never again." You say, over and over.

"A dragon never leaves its treasure," he says, his forehead finally pressing against yours. His eyes closed, as if he's breathing you in, feeling this moment. "And you're the most valuable treasure a creature could ever have."

[bodyswap005]

"Borrowed Bodies, Reunited Lives".

Dylan’s Perspective:

I always thought a cruise vacation would be perfect: the sun, the sea, and the chance to disconnect from everything. But when your only travel companions are your parents, who can barely spend a minute together without arguing, the idea loses its charm. So, when my parents announced we’d be spending the holidays sailing to Miami, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and frustration.

They are Ethan and Susan, the perfect representation of a marriage that has lost its way. They argue about everything, from which channel to watch on TV to how to park the car. They never agree, and being in the middle of their endless arguments is a place I’d rather not be. That’s why the idea of spending weeks locked on a ship with them seemed more like a punishment than a break.

If only I could bring Alex and Joshua, my best friends from the gym, things would be different. They’re like my older brothers, always with advice, jokes, and that camaraderie that only forms between those who share long training sessions and complaints about the same exercise machines. Alex is more reserved, but he has a sarcastic sense of humor that always makes me smile, while Joshua is the extrovert of the group, capable of lighting up any room with his energy.

Of course, bringing them along was an impossible dream. My parents would never allow it, and they certainly couldn’t afford it. But sometimes, even the most unlikely things have a strange way of coming true.

One afternoon, as I was walking back from the gym, I saw an elderly woman trying to lift a heavy bag off the sidewalk. I stopped to help her; I didn’t think much of it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. When the woman thanked me, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to pierce through me and said something strange:

—Make a wish, young man. A real one.

I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was some kind of game or joke, but in the end, I said the first thing that came to mind:

—I wish my friends could come with me on the cruise.

The old woman smiled, murmured something I didn’t understand, and walked away. I didn’t dwell on it, although that night I couldn’t help but think about her words.

The day of departure arrived, and as expected, nothing extraordinary happened. Alex and Joshua weren’t there. Everything was the same: my parents arguing, me wishing I wasn’t there. Until, suddenly, things started to get strange.

As the ship set sail, I noticed my parents weren’t just arguing, their voices sounded completely out of place. My dad let out a rude “What the hell am I doing here?”, while my mom muttered a “No way, dude!”. They both looked at me with a mix of confusion and bewilderment.

Then my phone rang. It was Alex. Or at least, that’s what the screen said. I answered, and what I heard on the other end froze me. It was my dad. Or rather, his voice, saying something completely absurd:

—Dylan, it’s me! I’m your dad.

And just like that, my cruise adventure, which already promised to be uncomfortable, took a turn I never could have imagined, even in my worst nightmares.

Ethan and Susan Perspective:

Ethan woke up startled in a place he didn’t recognize. The room was small, with dull-colored walls, barely lit by a beam of sunlight filtering through the curtains. He brought a hand to his face and felt something strange: his beard was gone.

When he looked down, the shock was even greater. This wasn’t his body. His torso was strong, defined, and his hands, large and youthful, weren’t the ones he remembered.

—What the hell is going on?!—he shouted, jumping up.

On the other side of the room, someone else moved. Susan, or at least what should have been Susan, slowly sat up from a single bed. But instead of her slender figure, it was the body of a muscular young man with messy hair and a bewildered expression.

—What happened to me?—Susan asked, touching her face with hands larger than she expected. Then she looked at the mirror in front of her, and a scream escaped her mouth—It can’t be!

Ethan staggered slightly as he approached, trying to control his movements. He looked at both their reflections and confirmed the impossible: he was in Joshua’s body, one of Dylan’s friends, and Susan was in Alex’s.

—This has to be a nightmare…—Ethan said, running a hand through his short hair.

—This isn’t real!—Susan screamed, touching her arms and chest, feeling the muscles now belonging to her. Her gaze was filled with horror—This can’t be real!

At that moment, Susan’s phone—or rather Alex’s, which was in the pocket of her pants—began to ring. They both looked at each other, uncertain. Ethan took the phone and answered.

—Hello?

On the other end of the line, Dylan answered immediately, his tone filled with panic:

—Dad… it’s me.

Ethan squinted.

—Dylan? What’s going on?

—Dad, mom…—Dylan stammered, trying to explain while listening to Alex (now in Ethan’s body) argue with someone in the background—I think… I think you switched bodies with Alex and Joshua.

Susan, who had been listening from across the room, quickly approached.

—What did you do, Dylan?—she asked with Alex’s deep voice, snatching the phone from Ethan—What did you do?!

—I… I didn’t know this was going to happen—Dylan defended himself, his voice full of guilt—I helped an old woman, and she told me she’d grant me a wish. I just asked for Alex and Joshua to come on the cruise with me.

Ethan huffed, snatching the phone back.

—An old woman?! What kind of joke is this?

—It’s not a joke, dad—Dylan replied—This is real, but… I don’t know how to fix it.

—Of course you don’t!—Susan growled from the back, crossing her arms—We’re stuck in the bodies of two guys we barely know!

—Please, just calm down. We need to think…—Dylan tried to say, but his voice sounded weak, even to himself.

—Calm down?—Susan screamed—We lost our cruise, our lives, everything!

Ethan sighed deeply, trying to remain calm, even though his hands were trembling.

—Listen, Dylan. For now, we’ll look for that old woman, if she even exists. You stay on the cruise and try to keep those two idiots under control.

Dylan swallowed hard.

—Got it.

Ethan hung up and placed the phone on the bed, his expression hardened.

—This can’t be permanent, right?—Susan asked quietly, though she knew no one had the answer.

Ethan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at his new arms, so strong that it almost seemed like a joke.

—While we figure out how to reverse this… I think we should make the most of this vacation.

Susan glared at him.

—Make the most of it? Ethan, we’re in the bodies of strangers!

—I know, but we can’t just sit around feeling sorry for ourselves—he said, though a nervous smile crossed his face as he flexed his arms—I never had muscles like this…

Susan ran a hand over her face, frustrated.

—Maybe this is a sign—she murmured, more to herself than to him—A lesson for us.

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

—A lesson?

—To solve our problems… as a couple.

Ethan let out a snort but didn’t argue. Though they both knew that the only thing they could agree on was finding that old woman and returning to their lives as quickly as possible.

In the city, Ethan and Susan walked down a narrow alley, following the coordinates Dylan had provided over the phone. However, the place was empty, with no trace of the gypsy old woman who had set everything in motion.

—This can’t be, she doesn’t even exist!—Susan exclaimed, crossing her arms and shooting a reproachful glance at Ethan—This is your fault.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly tired of his wife’s constant accusations.

—My fault? Please! Dylan was the one who made the wish, and we’re the ones stuck in this mess with his little friends.

Susan snorted, turning around to head back to the apartment they were now sharing.

Once they arrived, they both collapsed on the sofa. Susan sighed with frustration, while Ethan stood up to inspect the small living room.

—This is a disaster—Susan said, bringing her hands to her face—I just want my normal life back.

—I wouldn’t complain too much, you know?—Ethan responded with a smile, taking off his shirt in front of the apartment mirror. He admired his defined and sculpted muscles, something he hadn’t seen in years—Look at this! When was the last time I looked like this?

—For the love of God, Ethan! Put your shirt on. This is ridiculous—Susan scolded, though her gaze briefly drifted to her husband, now in Joshua’s body.

—Ridiculous?—Ethan chuckled as he flexed his arms in front of the mirror—This is like turning back time.

Fed up with his attitude, Susan jumped up and, in a burst of frustration, decided to check for herself how she looked now. She stood in front of the mirror and, with some curiosity, slid her hands down the muscular arms of Alex’s body.

—This… this is weird—Susan admitted quietly, staring at her reflection. Her new body was strong and bulky, something she never imagined experiencing—I’ve never felt like this in my life.

—Weird?—Ethan said, approaching her with a teasing smile—Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it a little.

Susan rolled her eyes and stepped away from the mirror.

—I don’t care how I look now. What I want is to get my life back, not walk around showing off like you.

Ethan raised his hands in a peace gesture, although he still had a satisfied expression.

—Alright, alright. But, while we find the old woman, we could make the most of it… How about we go out for dinner?

—Dinner?—Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow.

—Yes, of course. But first, I think we should go to the gym. Isn’t that what Alex and Joshua would do? Besides, I’m sure these bodies need exercise to stay like this.

Reluctantly, Susan agreed. After all, there wasn’t much else to do.

At the gym, they faced the demanding routines of Alex and Joshua. Ethan, used to a much more sedentary lifestyle, tried to keep up with the weights, while Susan, clearly annoyed, followed the instructions she found on Alex’s phone.

—This is crazy—Susan murmured, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she watched Ethan drinking an energy shake—How do they do this every day?

—It’s a matter of habit—Ethan replied, smiling as he approached a treadmill.

Suddenly, a young man approached them. He was wearing tight athletic gear and had a relaxed attitude.

—Alex? Joshua?—Ethan asked with a smile, looking them up and down.

Sergio and Susan exchanged quick glances. They had no idea who he was, but decided to play along.

—Yes, it's us—Ethan replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

The young man nodded, as if he already knew them well.

—Great. Hey, I’m hosting a party tonight. You guys should come. It’ll be at my place, nothing formal, just friends.

—Party?—Susan repeated, surprised.

—Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun—the young man responded before giving them more details and walking away with a smile.

When the young man disappeared from sight, Ethan turned to Susan with enthusiasm.

—This is perfect.

—Perfect?—Susan said, crossing her arms—Are you suggesting we go?

—Of course. When was the last time we went to a party with young people? All we do is attend boring adult gatherings. This could be an opportunity to experience something new.

Susan looked at him incredulously, but deep down, something in his words sparked her curiosity.

—Suppose I agree… But no acting like an idiot, Ethan.

—Deal!—he replied with a triumphant smile.

Meanwhile, Susan couldn’t help but wonder if this experience might be more than just a bad nightmare… Maybe, even, an opportunity to rediscover something lost in their relationship.

The night came, and Ethan and Susan, more nervous than excited, tried to pick the best clothes they could find in Alex and Joshua’s wardrobes. Ethan chose some tight dark jeans and a white shirt that was a little too snug, while Susan, uncomfortable, put on a sleeveless shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination.

—This is ridiculous—Susan said, adjusting her clothes in front of the mirror—Do young people really dress like this?

—Relax—Ethan replied, straightening his shirt collar—We’re doing this to fit in, remember?

With little money in their pockets, they decided to stop for a coffee before heading to the party. Sitting at a small table by the window, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. For the first time in years, they weren’t arguing.

—This is… strange—Susan commented, stirring her coffee.

—What’s strange?—Ethan asked, looking out the window.

—Us. Here, not fighting. As if… as if we were another couple.

Ethan smiled faintly.

—Maybe this change has something good after all.

Before Susan could respond, Ethan’s phone started ringing. It was Dylan.

—How’s everything going over there?—Ethan asked as Susan moved closer to listen.

—Fine... I think. Alex and Joshua are keeping it together, although it’s total chaos.—Dylan sighed on the other end of the line—Did you find the old woman?

—No—Susan responded with frustration—We followed the coordinates, but there was no sign of her.

—Well, at least you tried.

Ethan cleared his throat.

—By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.

—What?—Dylan exclaimed—What party? Whose?

—A guy from the gym invited us. We don’t know him, but he seemed insistent.—Ethan paused—Dylan, do you know who he is?

—No. Maybe he’s new in town or at the gym. Be careful.

They hung up shortly after, and Ethan and Susan finished their coffees before heading to the party.

The place was full of energy. Colorful lights blinked while music echoed in every corner. People were laughing, dancing, and chatting in small groups. Ethan and Susan looked at each other nervously before entering, trying to appear relaxed.

—Remember, act like we know them—Ethan whispered.

Inside, they recognized several people from the gym. Probably Alex and Joshua's friends. Susan tried to chat with a few people, but couldn’t fully connect, while Ethan helped himself to a drink at the table.

It was then that the guy who had invited them appeared. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a charismatic smile.

—Alex, Joshua, I’m glad you came—the young man said, shaking their hands—I’m Elijah, by the way.

—Nice to meet you, Elijah—Susan replied, trying to sound casual.

Elijah smiled in a peculiar way, as if he knew something more.

—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?—he asked with a tone that seemed both innocent and mocking.

Ethan felt something stir inside him. That phrase had been too specific.

—What do you mean?—Ethan asked, feigning disinterest.

Elijah shrugged, his smile barely visible.

—Nothing, just a way of saying. Enjoy the party.

As Elijah walked away, Ethan was left thinking. How could he know something? The idea that he might be connected to the old woman crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. However, something didn’t add up.

He decided to find Susan to talk about it, but at that moment, someone else approached him.

—Hey, Alex, wanna grab a drink?—a young man asked, calling Susan, or rather, Alex’s body.

Susan, unsuspecting, accepted the invitation and walked away, leaving Ethan alone.

Ethan sat at one of the tables, reflecting on what had just happened. He looked around, observing the other guests, but couldn’t get Elijah’s words out of his mind.

—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Susan came back. But what really snapped him out of his reverie was seeing her without a shirt, wearing a swimsuit she had found in the apartment.

—What the hell are you doing?—Sergio asked, alarmed.

Susan shrugged.

—Apparently, this is normal here. Besides, who cares? No one knows who we really are.

Ethan put a hand to his face, stifling a sigh. This night was going to be longer than he expected.

Susan, still animated by the festive atmosphere and clearly affected by the drinks, approached Ethan with a radiant smile.

—There’s a pool!—she said excitedly—I need a swim, and you do too.

—Susan, I think you've had enough to drink—Ethan responded cautiously, noticing the peculiar gleam in his wife’s eyes.

—Oh, come on! Don’t be boring.—Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the pool.

Ethan, surprised by the gesture, felt a strange warmth rise to his face. It was something so simple, but it had been so long since he felt that spontaneous connection with Susan. Was he blushing?

When they reached the pool, the atmosphere was completely different: laughter, softer music, and a group of young people enjoying the water under the colorful lights. Susan, without a second thought, jumped into the water, while Sergio stood at the edge, watching her.

—Ethan, come on!—she shouted, splashing him playfully.

He sighed, finally giving in, and stepped into the water. However, just a few minutes later, Susan moved away again, leaving him alone.

Ethan got out of the pool, drying himself off while looking for Susan in the crowd. That’s when he noticed Elijah, standing near a table, looking at him with a smile that seemed more calculated than friendly.

—Hey, Joshua…—Elijah said, walking toward him—Sorry for what I said earlier, about “adjusting to the new.”

—No problem—Ethan replied, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe the apology—Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone.

But Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

—Wait, let me explain why I said that.

With a mix of suspicion and curiosity, Ethan decided to follow him. Elijah led him to a room downstairs and closed the door behind them.

—So, what’s this about?—Ethan asked, crossing his arms.

Elijah didn’t answer right away. Instead, he got closer, his eyes locked on Ethan’s.

—You know, Joshua... there’s something about you tonight. Something different.

Before Ethan could react, Elijah surprised him by leaning in to kiss him. Elijah’s lips met Ethan’s, and for a moment, Etnan was frozen. He had never kissed a man, nor had he ever imagined being in this situation. Why wasn’t he pulling away?

Finally, he reacted and pulled back abruptly, his heart pounding.

—What the hell are you doing?—he said, breathless, as he stepped back toward the door.

Elijah showed no remorse, just a mysterious smile.

—Maybe… Joshua isn’t as different as you think.

Without responding, Ethan hurriedly left the room, determined to find Susan.

When he finally found her, what he saw left him stunned. Susan, in Alex’s body, was standing close to a young woman, talking in a way that was far too familiar. The girl was laughing while Susan touched her arm, as if she were flirting.

Ethan furrowed his brow as he watched them both head upstairs.

—Susan! —he called, rushing after them.

Susan stopped, turning to face him with an annoyed look.

—What now?

—What are you doing? —Ethan demanded, trying to stay calm—. This is not the time to pretend to be someone else.

—Oh, please, Ethan —Susan replied, crossing her arms—. We're stuck in this absurd situation, what does it matter?

—It matters because we need to take care of each other and stick together. The best thing is that we leave now.

Susan glared at him, shaking her head.

—Do you always have to ruin everything? For once in my life, I just want to have fun.

Before Ethan could respond, Susan turned around and left with the girl.

Frustrated and angry, Ethan decided he’d had enough. He returned to the changing room, grabbed his clothes, and left the party without looking back.

Back at the apartment, Ethan locked himself in the small room he was now occupying, throwing himself onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion. He waited, phone in hand, for a call or message from Susan, but nothing came.

As he tried to calm himself, his mind drifted back to the kiss from Elijah.

Why didn’t I pull away sooner? he thought, bringing a hand to his lips. He’d never kissed a man before, but there was something about that moment… something that unsettled him.

—I’m not gay… —he murmured, as if trying to convince himself.

Still, he couldn’t ignore what he had felt. Was Joshua gay? The idea troubled him, but it also stirred a strange curiosity.

With conflicting thoughts and emotions, he closed his eyes, and eventually, exhaustion overtook him.

The sound of the alarm clock vibrated softly, and Ethan opened his eyes, hoping everything had returned to normal. But it hadn’t. He was still in Joshua’s body. He glanced at the clock: 11:15 a.m.

He got up sluggishly, running his hands over his face and walking toward the bathroom to do his morning routine. As he washed his hands, an unmistakable smell hit his nose: food. Who was cooking?

When he reached the kitchen, he found Susan, still in Alex’s body, preparing what looked like a balanced breakfast: eggs, avocado, oatmeal, and a protein shake.

—Good morning, “J-Machine”! —Susan said with a smile, using a nickname that seemed to belong to Alex for Joshua.

Ethan frowned at the use of the nickname but decided to ignore it.

—Good morning… —he replied as he sat down at the small kitchen table—. Do you feel alright after last night?

Susan shrugged.

—Yeah, nothing a shower and coffee can’t fix.

—Well, I wanted to talk about what happened at the party…

—About what? —Susan asked, not looking at him as she served a plate.

—About what you did —Ethan insisted—. You drank too much, flirted with a girl, and then left with her. What the hell were you thinking?

Susan briefly looked at him, then returned her attention to her phone, typing messages and smiling as though she wasn’t in the middle of a serious conversation.

—Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry. Do you want avocado or double oatmeal? —Susan said indifferently.

—Susan, listen to me! —Ethan exclaimed, tapping the table gently to get her attention.

Finally, she looked up, slightly irritated.

—What? What did I do wrong now?

—Everything! —Ethan replied with frustration—. You’ve been acting like this is all a game. Not just last night, but always. Even when we were in our original bodies.

Susan frowned, setting her phone aside.

—What do you mean?

—I mean you and I have been distant for years —Ethan confessed, his tone more serious—. But last night, while I was trying to take care of you in that body, I felt something… something I haven’t felt in years. That connection we had when we were younger.

Susan looked at him in disbelief, then let out a sarcastic laugh.

—Connection? Or are you confusing things? Are you gay now?

—What? —Ethan asked, surprised by the question.

—Yeah, because all of this sounds weird. You’re telling me you felt “something” for me while I’m in Alex’s body. What’s going on, Ethan? Are you falling in love with your friend son?

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come immediately.

—It’s not that… —he murmured finally, averting his gaze—. It’s more complicated than that.

—More complicated? —Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow—. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I hope this isn’t about the kiss with Elijah or something like that.

Ethan suddenly stood up, pushing the chair aside.

—You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I try to talk to you. You always avoid everything, even now that we’re not ourselves.

—Where are you going? —Susan shouted, raising her voice.

—Anywhere where I don’t have to deal with you —Ethan responded, leaving the kitchen and leaving Susan with an expression of confusion and anger.

As he walked toward his room, his thoughts swirled in his mind. Was Susan right? Was he confusing his emotions? Between Elijah’s kiss, Joshua’s body, and his accumulated frustration, nothing seemed to make sense.

Days passed in which Ethan and Susan barely spoke to each other. The resentment from breakfast still lingered, and each one had opted to focus on their own routines. Susan, in Alex's young and athletic body, had become the life of the gym; always surrounded by people, she generated glances and conversations wherever she went. Meanwhile, Ethan preferred to isolate himself in the apartment, playing video games and reflecting on what had happened at that party.

The image of Elijah continued to haunt his mind, especially the kiss they shared. Ethan felt confused, as if that experience had awakened something in him, something he still couldn't fully understand.

On the fifth day, finally, something changed. Tired of the awkward silence, Susan approached Ethan in the living room while he was playing.

—Can we talk? —she asked, in a softer tone than usual.

Ethan paused the game and looked at her, hesitating for a moment.

—I suppose so.

Susan sat next to him, settling into the couch.

—I want to apologize. Not just for what happened at the party, but… for everything. For how things have been between us, even before this strange exchange.

Ethan watched her, surprised by her sincerity.

—I’ve messed up too. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself… and, well, you saw what happened that night. I shouldn’t have scolded you like that.

—No, you were right —Susan admitted—. I’ve always been the type to avoid things instead of facing them. But after all this… I think it’s time to change, for Dylan. Although now, technically, he’s our best friend.

They both chuckled lightly, easing some of the tension.

—For Dylan —Ethan said, raising his fist.

—For Dylan —Susan repeated, bumping her fist against Ethan's.

For a moment, silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something in the air, a connection they both felt but didn’t know how to express. Susan looked at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

—Can I ask you something? —she said.

—Sure.

—What happened with Elijah?

Ethan sighed and looked away.

—It was strange. I don’t know why he did it… but when he kissed me, I didn’t hate it.

Susan looked at him intently, processing his words.

—You didn’t hate it?

—No. In fact, I think… I liked it.

The atmosphere grew more intimate. Susan placed her hand on Ethan's, and he looked directly at her for the first time in days.

—Maybe all of this is a sign —Susan whispered—. A way to show us that we don’t have to cling to who we were before.

Ethan nodded, and before he could respond, Susan leaned in toward him. It was a soft kiss, filled with a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and something new that neither of them had ever felt before.

What started as a kiss soon turned into something more. Their bodies, although not their original ones, seemed to fit in a way they had never imagined. They surrendered to the moment, leaving behind the doubts and conflicts that had separated them for so long.

Days later...

Life went on. They hadn’t returned to their original bodies, but it no longer seemed to matter. Ethan and Susan had decided to stop searching for the old woman and, instead, embrace this new opportunity to get to know each other from a completely different perspective.

Dylan, still on the cruise, was completely unaware of what had happened between them, but he would surely find out when he returned. In the meantime, Susan and Ethan found a new routine, learning to live with their new realities and with a relationship that, although unexpected, had given them a new perspective on what it meant to be partners, friends, and companions in this surreal experience that they now called life.

The end

[edwadio]

convince yourself

manifestation is convincing yourself that nothing limits you and coming to terms with the fact that you are everything and nothing at the same time.

take my point...

everything that is reflected in the external world had a beginning in the internal world - this is a one-way road, which always begins in us as an assumption and ends up materializing externally.

everything is an assumption and every assumption has an answer(prayer) because that is how the law works - this is how your world is created.

it took me a while to understand it, but i swear to you all that convincing myself and trusting myself made everything so easy.

don't look for another method, don't wonder what you are doing wrong, don't expect change just be the change, convince yourself that you already have what you want and then just observe the outside world with the knowledge that you created it.

your one task is to CONVINCE yourself and TRUST to yourself that what you desire is already fulfilled - without actually having it in the outside world you MUST assume that your wish has been fulfilled and YOU ALREADY HAVE IT.

don't expect, don't look, don't wonder when how and where, just CONVINCE YOURSELF that you already have it.

and that's it. convince yourself, trust yourself, test yourself and live your desire.

as above, so below.

[lieslab]

Skipped through the five waves of grief

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: After being caught in the middle of your parents' messy marriage, Chan finds you after they announce their divorce.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.4K

Domestic abuse and depression resources

Trigger warning: Domestic abuse, mentions of anger and yelling, depression, and emotional defeat

A/N: I'm on a roll with requests. This request is also from a while ago and requestee, I made the ending silly and fluffy. Sometimes Chan gives me cuteness aggression, so in order to ease the hurt about this topic, it ends playfully. This topic is a lot emotionally speaking, so I hope this eases a bit of your burden <3

_ _ _

Parents were supposed to love each other. They were supposed to be the light of each other's lives. Tender touches and sensual kisses. Healthy communication and cemented boundaries for one another. Marriage was supposed to be a joyous celebration. It was supposed to be something that would last forever, but the rings on your parents’ ring fingers began to rust. 

You didn’t know when it first happened. So many days had been spent arguing and bickering. Kisses were withheld from one another and words were thrown. The walls used to be nurtured with sweet murmurs and ‘I love you’s.’ They turned into rot. 

Golden rings rusted and turned their skin green and blue. They cut off blood circulation to their hearts and morphed them into something indescribable. The same reasons that they fell in love, it was the same reason why that love crumbled apart years later. 

The compliments from your mom turned into your father’s annoyance. Your father’s independence swallowed him whole and pig-headedness led him to push your mother away. Simple conversations began to get louder as anger burst out of each of their lungs. 

And you? You were innocent in this entire thing. Your existence was proof that they loved each other, but that was a long time ago. Every year that you grew older, it was another year that their connected flame began to shrink. Smaller and smaller until it snuffed out all together. 

It was easier to use you. The two of them managed to avoid one another like crazy, but you became the scapegoat. A ping pong ball that was forced to hit the board between both of them. Over and over and over and over again. 

“Mom said-” 

“Dad wants you to-” 

“Mom wants to know if you-” 

“Dad wanted me to ask you-” 

It always led to you feeling awful. You were no longer their kid, but rather a pigeon that was forced to carry their notes back and forth. Your back ached from the emotional toil and your brain suffered from their attitudes, but they didn’t see that. 

When a wave of anger was shoved towards you because you were the messenger, you forced yourself to take it. Day in and day out, you were just a cog in their toxic wheel of romance. The romance died, but their bitterness towards each other didn’t. So you bowed and you leaped. You took each cue with hesitation and a held breath. As time went on, your house turned into a battlefield with yourself as the victim. 

Too focused on fighting one another, neither parent understood the holes that they were drilling into your heart. They didn’t understand the ache in your bones and the curdled marrow. Even after you moved out, you still felt the effects of their disintegrating marriage. 

Text messages blew up your phone from both parties. Fingers pointed and both of them blamed the other for things falling apart. Despite you not being home, they still asked you to check in with the other for one reason or the next. 

No matter how miserable it made you, you complied. You didn’t want something to happen and cause the two of them to do something indescribable. Their violence came out in curses and shrieks. Flinging arms, bulging veins, and red faces. If that anger built and snapped, you weren’t sure if it’d ever truly get physical, but that thought worried you. 

You moved out months ago. When Chan suggested that the two of you grab a place, you agreed in a heartbeat. It provided some comfort away from your parents and for once, you felt like you could finally breathe. Neither of their hands were wrapped around your lungs and squeezing to leave you breathless. 

So the two of you went apartment shopping. You picked out furniture and paint colors. Fortunately for the two of you, the landlord was a sweeter older lady. She didn’t mind what you did with the place, as long as you had her permission before you began a project, she was pretty relaxed about most things that other landlords hated. 

You slathered your shared room with a brighter version of your favorite color. At least, by using that shade, it’d keep you rather upbeat. It was better than the last room that you had. Plus, the room was bigger, so you had more space to play with and freely added more and more objects. 

You and Chan had been living at the place for nearly a year. You had your job and he had his. The two of you grew accustomed to one another’s schedules. You went grocery shopping together every week and took turns divvying up the chores. Besides the shitshow from your parents, life was treating you fairly well. 

When you came home from work, you kicked off your dirty shoes, left them by the door, and headed into the kitchen. You were on duty to make dinner and you already knew what you were making. For the past two days, you had been planning to make this special dish tonight. 

Two days ago, your parents got into a huge fight. You didn’t know what happened until your mother informed you the next day. The verbal altercation was so loud that someone alerted the cops. When the cops broke it up, it was so bad that both of your parents had to be separated and calmed down. 

Your heart ached at the news. You felt awful because you didn’t know and couldn’t stop it. Guilt weighed upon your heart heavily. Maybe if you could have been there, you could have stopped it from happening. 

You carried the guilt and burden from things that you didn’t have to. It was one of those things that you couldn’t help. You grew up with your parents being dependent on you during their heated moments and when you weren’t there to stop it from escalating, it made you feel like shit deep down. 

You knew that it wasn’t really your fault. You weren’t responsible for their reactions, but it still felt like you were. If one of them would have alerted you, you would have dropped everything and rushed over. Anything to get them away from potentially hurting each other. 

Picking out the best knife, you took your time cutting the vegetables. You washed them and one-by-one, you placed them on the chopping board and began to dice and slice. Mince the garlic, ignore the sharp scent on your hands, and continue on to the next step. 

Chan would be home from work soon and the past few days, the two of you had been consuming frozen prepackaged food and ramen. Time had been relatively short for both of you and it was something quick and easy. Chan had been discussing wanting a homemade meal and you were thrilled to provide one for him. 

You continued to follow through the steps, but you stopped when your phone vibrated. Worried that Chan had to stay over at the studio, you washed your hands and pulled out your phone. You were expecting Chan, but when you pulled up the message, it was from your mother instead. 

“Your father and I are getting a divorce.” 

You read the words over and over and over again, trying to make sure you read them right. In the past, when anyone mentioned your parents divorcing, they each scoffed at the idea, stating that it took too much effort. 

For months, you had been praying for this moment, but now that you were here, you felt defeated. Your heart weighed heavily in your chest. Instead of responding right away, you left your mother on read, and you tossed the phone onto the nearby counter. 

Days and days of emotional torment finally broke the camel’s back. Your hands shook and tears collected in your eyes. Your legs wobbled and you desperately reached out to grab the kitchen counter. There wasn’t time to catch your weight before your legs slipped from beneath you. 

You hit the ground with a gasp. For so long, you felt so burdened by the scenario. Throwing knives struck your heart and they had been embedded there for so long. This information was like jerking them out all at once. 

How many times had you been involved in fights along with them? When a parent got too mad and the pendulum of anger swung towards you. You had kept it inside for so long. You were still just their kid, but your parents weren’t there to comfort the unsealed hurt that leaked out. 

Twenty minutes later, Chan sang the latest chorus of the new song that he’d been working on. He sang beneath his breath and bobbed his head. With a clicking tongue and humming of the last few notes, he spun the silver key ring around his finger. 

The two of you always kept the door locked no matter what. Even when the other was home, you still used your keys to get in. It was easier that way and you were anxious about strangers. Chan thought it was a bit silly, but he went along with it to make you feel better. 

He headed inside and kicked off his shoes. He pulled off his bag’s side strap and placed it on the couch. His laptop, hoodie, and an empty bottle sat inside. His tongue clicked again and he bobbed his head while walking into the kitchen. 

He spotted the half sliced carrot and the minced garlic. A few plastic bottles full of spices sat off to the side. Pork belly had been pulled from the fridge and a pan sat on the stove, but you were missing. 

His head tilted and he spun around to go find you. Knowing you, you were probably in the bathroom or you got distracted and went back to the bedroom. The floor creaked beneath his feet and he walked past the open bathroom door. 

The bedroom door was also open and when he stuck his head in, you were gone. Your unspoken name sat on the tip of his tongue, but it never rolled off. His head jerked backwards, wondering if he missed you somewhere, but with another look around the apartment, he couldn’t find you. 

“Where’d you go?” He mumbled beneath his breath. He headed back to the kitchen with a hand rubbing the side of his neck. It wasn’t like you to come up missing randomly. 

He walked further into the kitchen, up to the spices to see if you left a note. It was only then that he saw the hunched up figure off to the side. He frowned and headed towards you. “Whattcha doin’ down there?” 

His thick Australian accent usually made you laugh, but it never came. Sometimes he exaggerated his accent to make you laugh and this was one of those times. However, your usual smile didn’t appear. You were curled against the corner of wooden cabinets with your knees to your chest. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He frowned and crouched down beside you. “Did you hurt yourself while cutting the vegetables?” 

Your eyes were red and so were the tops of your cheeks. Your head weakly shook and the worry in his heart grew. “Then what happened? Why are you down here?” 

“My parents are getting a divorce.” 

He blinked and let the words sink in. He didn’t really know anything about your parents. A breath was sucked in through clenched teeth. “I’m really sorry about that.” 

Your head shook. “Don’t be. I’ve been wanting them to get divorced for a while, but I just-” You leaned down and let your chin rest on the top of your knees. “I don’t know. I’m relieved and I feel miserable about it all at once. A lot of the time, they used me to communicate with one another. I’m happy, but I’m empty and I also feel hurt.” 

“I fought a lot with my dad and I don’t know how to put it all together. There’s a hundred feelings all at once. I’m so happy it happened, but I just…” 

“Wish it happened earlier, so you didn’t have to be involved so much?” 

You finally nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. My mom texted me a while ago and I needed a moment to let it sink in.” 

“So you picked the dirty kitchen floor?” He teased you slightly.

“I just cleaned this floor last night.” 

“And it’s such a shame that I might have spilled milk on it late last night.” 

Your head went back up. “You didn’t clean it up? What’s wrong with you?” 

He laughed and pulled away. “I’m just kidding! Of course, I cleaned it up. It would have smelled nasty if it sat and curdled.” He stood up and stretched his hands out towards you. 

“I think this calls for a celebration of sorts. It looks like you were in the middle of making something, so I’m going to help you. Let’s do something to take your mind off it.” 

You reached up and he tugged you up with ease. The moment you were back on your feet, he yanked you towards him. You squeaked  as he wrapped you in a tight hug. 

His forehead found the side of your neck. You tried to squirm away, but he held you tighter. Warm lips softly pressed against your skin. You cried his name and tried to lean back again, but he didn’t let go. 

“Stop trying to escape my love.” His breath was warm on your skin. He planted another soft kiss against your pulse point. “Just let me love my baby.” 

Your head leaned back with a loud whine. “You’re giving me your cooties and it tickles. How am I supposed to tolerate it? I can’t help that I’m ticklish!” 

He giggled and kissed the side of your neck once more before he gave up. His arms remained around your waist and he let his head nuzzle against you. “You know, one day I might marry you.” 

“Oh brother.” 

“What do you mean?” He pulled his head back in mock offense. “We’re going to have the best marriage of all time. Maybe we might even end up with kids.” 

“Too fast and too soon bucko.” 

“Bucko?” 

“Bucko.” 

His parted lips began to turn into a smirk. When you saw the glint in his eyes, you quickly jerked backwards. “Now wait a-” 

“Come ‘er.” 

You spun around and took off. He chased after you with his hands out. His fingers wiggled, a silent threat to tickle you. You shrieked and rushed out of the kitchen. He giggled as he hurried after you. 

Your parents’ marriage might have ended in divorce and heartbreak, but with Chan, you were certain your marriage would be eternal. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[chocopudim]

can touch you?

mr. crawling x fem ! reader, she / her pronouns, blissful love life ending, smut (masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Lately, the monster had been found constantly getting absorbed by the TV, so the human decided to spend some alone time distressing herself. She closed the bedroom door quietly, making sure Mr. Crawling wasn't nearby. Then, walked to their bed, taking small steps not to indicate where she could be.

However, the wooden floor was somewhat old, the bed was a little rusty, and Mr. Crawling seemed to have a sixth sense, telling him about all her possible locations.

She removed her clothes and carefully laid down on their bed, closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths, trying to focus and not think too much about the possibility of Mr. Crawling suddenly walking in. She had closed the door already, there was no way the monster would appear by her side, right?

The human relaxed her body and moved her hand to her chest, circling her skin with one of her fingertips. Her heart was beating fast, still afraid of getting caught by her ghostly roommate.

She moved the other hand between her thighs, gently massaging the area. A small moan escaped her lips. She didn't care though, surely that wouldn't be enough for Mr. Crawling to hear-

_ You hurt? You pain?

She quickly stopped whatever she was doing and directed her sight to the tall man sitting next to her, worry in his voice. The woman loved him dearly but hated how silent and willing he was to follow her everywhere, even when it wasn't needed.

_ M-Me... Huh... - The blood quickly ran to her cheeks as she searched for ways to explain herself. How could one even start to do that while looking at him? Wait, why was he even here and how much did he see?! Didn't she close the door?

_ You okay?

_ Me o-okay...

_ You need help?

_ H-Help?! - The human gasped, shocked.

_ Help. Me want help. - From Mr. Crawling's perspective, the human had probably injured herself while he wasn't looking and she was now moaning in agony. He also thought she looked somewhat cute while lying down like that, but he couldn't exactly understand why.

_ Oh! - She gasped again, finally realizing the monster thought she was hurt and wanted to help with that instead, - Me not need help. Me fine.

_ You fine? Why touch body?

Damn, Mr. Crawling wasn't subtle at all, was he? He must have felt she was trying to hide something. Now, how does one explain what they were doing to him, a monster that doesn't ever need to think about pleasuring himself?

_ T-Touch body make me... V-Very happy.

Happy? Was 'happy' really the right word for that?

_ Touch body make you very happy?

_ Y-Yes... - Deep down, she was praying Mr. Crawling would get the memo and walk away. That interaction couldn't get any more awkward.

_ Why? - Mr. Crawling asked curiously. He was trying to understand his human better and didn't notice how evasive his questions were coming across or how intimate that situation was.

_ Touch... Good. - She tried explaining in the best way she could, but it was hard since their vocabulary seemed to be so limited. The embarrassment also didn't help much. All she wanted to do was to disappear at that exact moment.

_ You like touch body?

_ M-Maybe...

_ You want me touch body?

_ W-What?! - The human exclaimed under her breath.

_ Me want make you very happy. Me want help. Me can touch you?

Was that really happening?

_ T-Touch me? You want touch me?

_ Yes. Can touch you?

Her heartbeats increased and she grew even more flustered. She could feel her heart echoing inside her head as the adrenaline rushed in. And so did Mr. Crawling.

The monster quietly stared at her, patiently waiting for an answer. He was used to touching his human, but not like that... The idea of it was quite alluring to him and he was tempted to explore those new emotions a little bit more.

_ Y-Yes. - The woman panicked after realizing her words. Did she really agree with that? It's not like she didn't want to. But just because they could, should they?

Mr. Crawling smiled, excited to make his human happy. Gently, he grasped one of her breasts, giving it a soft squeeze. His icy cold hands made the human shiver, but it was nice feeling it against her burning body.

_ Cute. - He said, seeming to enjoy how her chest felt, - You like my touch?

_ Y-Y-Yes!

_ Can teach me?

Perhaps, Mr. Crawling wanted to be guided...?

_ You play... - The woman said still feeling awkward about it, but not against it. She placed her hand on top of his and slowly guided him, showing him how to squeeze, pinch, tease... - W-Want consume?

_ Consume?

_ N-Not consume... Use mouth.

For a moment, Mr. Crawling stopped touching her and just analyzed her body language, trying to understand what his human could be trying to say. Then, he smiled as if he had finally figured it out. He placed his mouth, carefully on top of her chest. Then, he opened it, biting the flesh ever so softly. The human moaned again, feeling his tongue play with her nipple.

While Mr. Crawling was busy "consuming", she moved one of her hands between her tights for the second time, slowly massaging it. Mr. Crawling noticed her legs were moving a little bit more than before and looked down, removing his mouth from her chest.

_ Me consume legs?

_ Huh? - Before she could form a proper sentence, Mr. Crawling placed himself between her legs, fascinated by how interesting the human body could be. There were so many things he didn't know about... He touched her pussy with one of his fingers, making the woman shiver again due to how sudden it was.

_ Me touch? Me consume?

_ Y-You want touch? Want c-c-consume?

_ Yes. - He smiled, the same way he usually did, before inserting one of his long fingers inside of it. The woman gasped, biting her bottom lip to not moan too loudly, - You like touch? - He asked, slowly moving his finger in and out. He didn't know what he was doing but enjoyed observing her reactions. The monster just wanted to play with her and would continue entertaining her as long as she enjoyed it.

He liked how her face moved with every touch, the small sounds she made, the way her chest bounced, how soft and warm her skin was, the way her back slightly arched, and how she would move her hips... Mr. Crawling couldn't explain why, but he was fascinated by all of it.

_ Why wet? - Mr. Crawling asked again, circling her labia with his fingertips.

_ T-Touch good...

Then, a sudden question popped up in his head. What did his human taste like? Mr. Crawling asked himself as he removed his hand from her.

He planned to use his mouth from now on.

Noticing what he was about to do, she held his silk-black hair in her hands, slightly pulling it. Wanting to return the touch, Mr. Crawling squeezed her breast between his fingers.

The human felt a slight sense of anxiety while feeling his hot breath against her skin. Then, his mouth evolved it. The human shivered at how cold his lips felt in comparison to his tongue.

The monster slowly circled his tongue around her labia, before starting to move it up and down, enjoying how her back would arche differently.

It took him a few minutes, but he eventually found the clitoris. Realizing how much more sensitive she would get every time he touched that area, he started teasing it, licking it slowly at first.

The woman's hips eventually started moving faster and faster, and Mr. Crawling tried keeping up with her. The more she moaned, the deeper Mr. Crawling tried to go.

As her legs started shaking, she instinctively pulled his face against her pussy, letting out a loud moan. Mr. Crawling held her tights, squeezing them against his face. How could someone feel so warm and soft? He also really enjoyed the taste.

Mr. Crawling pulled away from her after noticing her lack of movement. Watching the way her body slowly grew relaxed as something else grew on him...

_ Me make you happy?

_ You make me happy... Me thankful. - She replied with a small smile plastered on her face, trying to catch her breath.

_ You like me touch body? Me good?

_ Yes. - The woman laughed lightly at his silly questions. - You good. You very good. Me like you. A lot.

_ Me glad. - Mr. Crawling smiled widely. One could tell he was feeling pretty happy and even proud about it, - You good. Me like you.

_ You fine...? - She asked slightly worried, wanting to make sure Mr. Crawling was okay with what had just happened between them, - You like touch body?

_ Yes. Me like body. You cute. - The monster answered sweetly, jumping on top of her for a hug, - You fine?

_ Me fine.

The two of them closed their eyes as they hugged, simply enjoying that small intimate moment... But suddenly, Mr. Crawling broke the silence, looking completely serious.

_ Not let others touch you. Me can touch you.

[amourquinn]

( short fic ) 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.5k

genre : angst, fluff at the end no warnings

summary : a late-night argument forces you and quinn to confront the vulnerabilities in your relationship

「 author’s note 」 this one was inspired by the song mad by ne-yo !

the apartment was eerily silent, save for the occasional hum of the heater and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. you tossed and turned in bed, trying to find sleep, but it refused to come. the argument with quinn earlier in the evening replayed in your mind like a broken record.

it wasn’t even a big fight—nothing earth-shattering, but the frustration lingered. it had started with something trivial, as most fights do. quinn had been stressed from back-to-back games, and you were juggling a heavy workload. his short responses had grated on your nerves, and your sharp words had only added fuel to the fire.

now, as you lay staring at the ceiling, the weight of the unresolved tension felt unbearable. quinn was on his side of the bed, his back to you, his breathing steady but not quite deep enough to suggest he was asleep either. the air between you was thick, but neither of you had made the move to bridge the gap.

with a sigh, you pushed the covers off and swung your legs over the side of the bed. the hardwood floor was cool beneath your feet as you tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful not to make too much noise. the faint glow of the kitchen light guided your steps as you made your way to the fridge.

you grabbed a glass of water, sipping slowly as you leaned against the counter, your mind still racing. the stillness of the night only amplified the ache in your chest. you hated going to bed angry with quinn, and this was no exception.

the sound of soft footsteps broke your thoughts. you turned your head to see quinn leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. his hair messy from tossing and turning, his tired eyes meeting yours. he wore a simple black t-shirt and sweats, his shoulders slightly hunched as if weighed down by something unseen.

“hey. couldn’t sleep either?” he asked quietly, his voice raspier than usual.

you shook your head, taking another sip. “no.”

for a moment, silence stretched between you. he crossed the room, opening the fridge and pulling out a water bottle. he unscrewed the cap and took a sip, his eyes glancing at you briefly before flicking away.

you leaned against the counter, arms wrapped around yourself, while he lingered by the table, his hands resting on its edge. the space between you felt impossibly large.

“about earlier…” he started, but his tone was cautious.

you shook your head, cutting him off. “quinn, i don’t want to fight right now. i’m tired.”

his jaw tightened, and you could see the effort he was putting into keeping his emotions in check. “i’m not trying to fight,” he said, his voice quieter now. “i just… i don’t like how we left things.”

you exhaled sharply, setting your glass down on the counter with more force than you intended. “neither do i, but we both said things we shouldn’t have, and now here we are, not sleeping and avoiding each other.”

quinn ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his movements. “you think i like this? i hate when we argue. i hate going to bed like this.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t have—” you stopped yourself, biting your lip to keep the words from spilling out. you didn’t want to make things worse, but the sting of his earlier comments still burned.

“shouldn’t have what?” he pressed, stepping closer. his tone wasn’t angry, just tired, like he genuinely wanted to understand.

you hesitated, looking down at the floor. “you shut me out, quinn. every time something’s wrong, you close off, and i’m left guessing. it feels like i’m fighting to get you to let me in, and tonight… tonight it just felt like you didn’t even want me to try.”

his expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “that’s not true,” he said quietly. “i’m just… i don’t always know how to deal with things, okay? and i know that’s not fair to you. i know i should’ve—”

“communicated?” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended. “yeah, you should’ve. instead, you snapped at me like i was the problem.”

quinn flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “you’re not the problem,” he said firmly. “you never are. i just… i had a bad day, and i took it out on you. that’s on me. i’m sorry.”

the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you felt your defenses start to crumble. you hated how easily he could disarm you with just a few words, but at the same time, you didn’t want to stay mad at him.

“i didn’t mean to push you,” you admitted softly. “i just… i worry about you, q. i hate seeing you like this and not knowing how to help.”

“i know,” he said, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. his hand hesitated before resting lightly on your arm. “and i’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t. i’ll try to do better, okay? i promise.”

you searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was the man you loved, tired and vulnerable, but trying.

“okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

the sincerity in his tone chipped away at the wall you’d built up over the evening. you bit your lip, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m sorry too. i know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”

he let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “it’s not an excuse, though. i shouldn’t take it out on you.”

you nodded, the tension in your chest easing ever so slightly. “i just… i hate it when we fight. especially over stupid things.”

“me too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. he set the water bottle on the counter beside your glass. “i hate the way it feels—like this distance between us.”

you looked up at him, your eyes searching his. the vulnerability in his expression softened the last bit of anger you’d been holding onto. “me too. so much.” you murmured.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the quiet hum of the fridge filled the space, but the air between you felt lighter now. he reached out hesitantly, his hand brushing against yours where it rested on the counter. it was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“let’s go back to bed,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

you nodded, letting him guide you back to the bedroom. the warmth of his hand in yours was comforting, and the tension that had once felt suffocating now seemed to dissipate with each step.

once back in bed, you slipped under the covers, your back turned to him out of habit more than anything else. you felt the mattress dip as he settled in beside you, and for a moment, the silence returned.

then, slowly, tentatively, you felt his arm snake around your waist. his body pressed gently against your back, his warmth enveloping you. it was an unspoken apology, a gesture that said more than words ever could.

“i love you,” he murmured into the darkness, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “i hate when we fight. i hate when there’s even a moment where it feels like we’re not okay.”

your chest tightened at his words, the raw emotion in his voice making your heart ache. you turned slightly, just enough to look over your shoulder at him. his eyes were soft, his expression open and unguarded.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “even when we fight. even when i’m mad at you. i’ll always love you.”

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

for a long moment, neither of you spoke. his hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. it was such a small thing, but it carried a quiet kind of intimacy that made your heart ache.

“go to sleep,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and soothing. “we’re okay. i promise.”

you nodded, closing your eyes as the steady rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a sense of peace. the warmth of his embrace, the weight of his arms around you, felt like home. and even though the remnants of the argument still lingered faintly in the back of your mind, you knew they would fade with time.

© amourquinn

[dorabellingham]

Complicated

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you're trying to make dinner but he ends up making an unnecessary comment that bothers you

request: yess!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a quiet night in your home, and you and Jude decided to cook dinner together. You were chopping vegetables while Jude stirred a pan on the stove. It was one of those simple and intimate moments that you loved, where the conversation flowed without rushing.

—You’re getting good at this, huh?

Jude commented, watching you wield the knife with precision.

—Only because you didn’t see how many fingers I almost cut off earlier.

You replied with a light laugh.

He laughed, exchanging knowing glances. You loved these moments with your boyfriend, where nothing seemed complicated or distant.

—Do you think we’ll be like this forever?

You asked, almost distracted, as you organized the vegetables.

—Like what?

Jude replied, turning to you.

—I don’t know... so comfortable. Like, even after everything we’ve been through, it seems like we’ve never lost that.

—Of course, babe. You’re my safe place. You always have been.

The comment made you smile, but before you could respond, Jude added something, distracted as he stirred the pan:

—And I’m lucky, because you’re not as complicated as other people I know.

You froze. The words were simple, but they sounded like a blow. It wasn’t what Jude had said, but how it sounded at that moment.

—I’m not complicated?

You asked, trying to hide the hurt tone.

Jude looked up, noticing something strange in your voice.

—That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I don’t know, you’re easier to deal with than a lot of people.

You dropped the knife on the counter, trying to process it. All you could think about were the times you felt like you were a burden to him —especially with your crises and the difficulty in adjusting to life in Madrid. That sounded like confirmation that you needed to try harder not to be a burden.

—Easy to deal with? —You repeated, your voice now lower. —Jude, do you have any idea how that sounds to me?

—Y/n, calm down. That's not what I meant. I just... —He ran his hand through his hair, clearly confused by your reaction. —I just meant that you're amazing and that you make everything seem simpler.

You took a step back, crossing your arms.

—But it's not simple, Jude. I'm not simple. I'm full of problems and insecurities. You know that.

—And I never said that was bad! —Jude exclaimed, getting closer. —Sweetie, you're human, like everyone else. But I love you precisely for who you are.

You looked away, biting your lower lip to hold back the tears. You knew Jude hadn't meant any harm, but his comment brought back all the times you felt inadequate, as if you needed to be "easy" to deserve his love.

—You'll never understand what it's like to feel like that. —You whispered. —Because you’re Jude Bellingham. Everyone loves you effortlessly.

—Hey, hey. —He held your arms gently, forcing you to look at him. —Don’t say that. Everyone can love me as a player, but who I really am… only you know. And you’re the one who makes me feel complete.

You blinked, letting out a stubborn tear.

—It’s just… sometimes I feel like I need to be perfect. That I can’t be a complication in your life.

Jude sighed, pulling you into a hug.

—Babe, you’ve never been a complication. I’m sorry if what I said made you think that. You’re the best thing in my life, and I love even the complicated parts of you.

You were silent for a moment, leaning your head against his chest as you felt the warmth of his embrace.

—I’m sorry for reacting like that. —You murmured. —It’s just that I…

—You don’t have to apologize. —He interrupted, kissing the top of your head. —I was the idiot. I should have thought before I spoke.

You stood there, hugging each other, while the smell of the sauce began to grow stronger. Jude pulled away a little, holding your face with his hands.

—You're perfect for me, Y/n. Not because it's easy, but because it's you.

You nodded, still feeling the weight of your emotions, but also the comfort of his words.

—I love you, Jude.

—I love you too. And please, let me know when I say something stupid again.

You laughed softly, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt.

—I think you already know when you say it.

—Fair enough. —He smiled and went back to the stove. —But for the record, I think I burned the sauce.

—Really? —You rolled your eyes, laughing. —I think we both need help in the kitchen.

Jude smiled at you, relieved to see you calmer.

—As long as I have you here, we can burn as many dinners as we need.

And with that, the tension was replaced by laughter and jokes, as you tried to save dinner.

[star--stilinski]

i need some much stiles

much stiles, much happy! jk, i understand ya. i just love making fun of typos because i'm actually evil.

☆

stiles is insatiable.

seriously, no matter how much you squirm and whine, he won't fucking quit. you started this, though. you suppose it might be warranted.

of course, your "starting it" was all in compassion. when he first asked (a husky mumble in your ear as he tugged at the waistband of your sweats), you had told him he'd be disappointed. that only certain guys really actually like it. that you haven't shaved, aren't pornstar pretty, your thighs might actually crush him.

and he took that very personally.

told you that "any real man knows getting crushed by thighs like yours while tasting your orgasm is the real way to end their evening" and went even further to say that "if you seriously expect me to be attracted to that child-looking shit then you're sorely mistaken." he then proceeded to lay you back and get comfy between your legs.

you didn't realize the monster you'd create.

he moaned when he first tasted you, after ample "warm up" (his words, not yours) and a good amount of ogling your up-close sex. his movements started off unsure and a bit sloppy, before he found his rhythm and got confident. from there, he was bringing you close and then pulling you back a few times, just for the fucking fun of it. it was the most torturous pleasure you'd ever felt.

after the first orgasm (where you unconsciously thanked him over and over, which unlocked a new kink for him. yippee.), your back arched slightly and your lips parted in a moan, you expected that to be it. the end. maybe a hand job for his fantastic work and then knocking out after a shower.

instead, stiles didn't even let up.

his eyes are closed, humming against your clit as he holds you by the thighs. partly because, well, stiles loves your thighs. and partly because he has to keep you still.

overstimulation hurts so good. you tug at his hair, gasping "stiles, it hurts, please," and he relents. but he only pulls back a bit, giving you a moment of relief as he licks his lips with hooded eyes trained on you.

"you okay, baby?" his words seem to bleed into one another, hands squeezing your plush thighs like he's holding himself back. the sight it downright evil, really; you've already forgotten how it hurt for him to keep going.

your head falls back onto your pillows and you scrunch your features up. "you don't have to-"

"please, i want to, please." his tone takes a rapid uptick into begging territory. "only a little longer, promise i'll be good, make you feel so good. just a bit more, yeah?"

you lift your head, tired and breathless, to meet his eyes. they're unfocused as he flicks his attention between you and your sex. letting your head rest back on the cushions, you take a deep breath and nod once. "alright, just a little longer."

"thank you, fuck. thank you so much baby." stiles litters kisses all over the insides of your thighs, his own way of showing gratitude before he dives back in, eyelashes notably fluttering when he takes a taste of you again.

he's not very kind after that.

round two, then three, and by the fourth- your jaw is slack and your brow is pinched together, but you're not sure if the expression is from pleasure or pain. when you come, actual tears prick at your eyes. stiles' tongue flicks your sensitive clit, working you over the edge, as you babble nonsense in your haze. this orgasm peaks with it's own bundle of pain involved, and your nerves seem to be getting the two mixed up as your hips attempt to twitch, held in place by stiles' big, demanding hands.

"tastes so good, mhmm, been thinking about this forever," stiles' words are barely audible as he looks up at you. his face is glistening, basically from nose to chin, and he's totally pussy drunk. you've never believed that expression until you see it in stiles' hooded eyes, head resting against your thigh. his cheeks are completely flushed and his hands are massaging your hips with more pressure than necessary, probably not even aware of the motion since his own hips are lazily grinding into the mattress.

you let out a heavy breath and smooth your fingers over his hair to try and fix what you did when you were preoccupied. it doesn't help the tameless mess he's sporting, but the look kinda suits him. "so?"

he blinks slowly, smiling up at you like you're the one who looks completely in love. well, you're four orgasms deep and stiles looks so pretty in between your thighs, so... maybe you do look like that. he licks his lips, and it makes goosebumps rise on your skin. "so, what?"

"d-did- are you disappointed?" the question sounds stupid now that it's out of your mouth, but he's too far gone to even laugh at you.

"jesus, no. could do this all day if you'd let me." his brow furrows. "would you let me?"

you laugh breathlessly and let your head fall against the pillows, scratching his scalp lightly. "i dunno. maybe." tugging him by the hair (which causes a sudden buck of his hips where they're grinding. go figure) you mumble, "c'mere?"

he crawls over you, wiping his face off on the way, and collapses while pressing his face into your neck. "yeah? what're you thinking about?"

you breathe in his scent, mind filled with stilesstilesstilesstilesstiles. "you. what are you thinking about?"

his arms wrap around you comfortably. "you."

"you can't have the same answer." your voice is weaker with his body weight on you. "that's cheating."

"alright, fine. i'm thinking about eating you out again."

"jesus, stiles." you feel him smile against your neck, and his arms tighten around you.

"what? i'm hungry!"

"it's not a- god, i've made a monster!" you laugh and cover your eyes, feeling him lift himself halfway off of you. "this is going to be the death of me."

"correction," his voice lowers, and you feel him planting kisses down your neck, then your chest. as he gets to your stomach, you peek through your fingers to find him assuming his previous position.

"i'm going to be the death of you."

☆

yayyy i'm posting while in a slump!!!!!!!! yayyy i'm not a total failure!!!!!!!!!!! (sobs heard in the distance)

sorry this is my worst ever creation look at this ugly FREAK

[lurkingshan]

Shan's Favorite Dramas of 2024

The year is wrapping up and I have forced myself to narrow down to a list of 15 (I tried 10 but the choices were too hard!) of my favorite 2024 dramas across genres and countries of origin. This is not every drama I liked this year (that list would be incredibly long), but these are the ones that inspired the most brain rot and really stuck with me.

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

The mood and tone of this drama was just perfect, and I loved the way it explored the blurred lines and confusion that can result when the real and fake aspects of a professional relationship get all mixed up. Hayama was a great character and I loved his arc, in particular.

Cherry Magic (Thailand, Viu)

I still can't believe how much I loved this adaptation. A fantastic example of taking a work from another culture and translating it to a new context while not only retaining the core narrative, but even enhancing it. This show gave us what the Japanese version didn't--the resolution to the physical intimacy arc at the core of the premise--and retained all the charm of the original while adding new humor. And delivered one of the best romances of the year while it was at it!

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear (Japan, fansub)

Oppan, my beloved. Easily the best family drama of the year, loaded with excellent messages while (mostly) avoiding feeling like an after-school special. Makoto's journey to update his thinking with Daichi's help, and the mutual friendship that developed between them, is one of my favorite relationships of the year. I loved every character's story; there is something for everyone to connect with in this show.

Fangs of Fortune (China, iQIYI)

This drama was just so much FUN. A gorgeous feast for the eyes, a wealth of fascinating characters and relationship dynamics, and a fast-moving plot that you don't need to try too hard to understand. It was a great binge and Li Lun was easily my favorite villain of the year.

Gyeongseong Creature (South Korea, Netflix)

A gorgeous period piece set during one of the darkest chapters of Korean history, this one took me by surprise (I am usually not a horror girlie). The writing for this show had surprising depth and I loved its themes around family and loyalty and survival under fascism.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

My boys! I loved this show about a group of four queer men living together in a shared house, getting into mischief and supporting each other through school and work and relationship struggles. The show is funny and breezy but also manages to tackle some serious issues with grace while delivering two strong romances and my favorite coming out narrative of the year.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (South Korea, iQIYI)

Winner for best QL of the year, and a romance that will be sticking with me for a long time. Dohoe is one of the most honest and unflinching depictions of a an adult psyche shaped by childhood abuse that I have ever seen on my screen. It was healing to see him treated with such compassion and to see him and Juyoung find their way to a happy life together. An absolute must watch for all you angst with a happy ending fans.

Love for Love’s Sake (South Korea, iQIYI)

It's so hard to get a high concept premise like this right, but this drama did an amazing job with it. It's one of those shows where you can go back over everything that happened in retrospect and it all adds up, and I loved that the ending lent itself to so many different interpretations. One of the best watch experiences of the year.

Love in the Big City (South Korea, Viki)

Go Young, my beloved. This drama adaptation of the internationally successful novel exceeded my wildest expectations, and I am still a little stunned that we got the privilege of seeing it. It is, bar none, the most authentically queer show on this list, and a beautiful depiction of all the significant relationships in one young man's life. I will be rewatching it many times and keeping it close to my heart.

Love is Like a Poison (Japan, fansub)

A masterful blend of comedy, action, and romance, this drama about a lawyer with delusions of grandeur and the scam artist who decides to become his partner was a constant delight and gave us my favorite battle couple of the year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

I can't tell you the joy and relief I felt to get another high quality queer drama from the Philippines this year. And this one had such a great cast of characters, anchored by one of my favorite protagonists of the year in King. It's funny, it's romantic, it's touching, and as always for a JP Haboc production, it has an amazing soundtrack.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Japan, fansub)

My girls! I'm still amazed by how much this drama gave us in its second season by expanding the world of the show beyond our two main characters to include so many other women whose stories were just as fascinating. This is the season where Nomoto and Kasuga really came into themselves and started building the life they want to have together, and it was a real joy to watch.

Tender Light (China, YouKu)

The way this show had me in a chokehold while it was airing! Visually stunning, incredibly well-constructed, and featuring one of the best performances of the year from Zhang Xin Cheng, it's an exhilarating mystery and a very touching story of the unusual bond between a student and the older woman who fascinates and terrifies him.

The Midnight Romance in Hagwon (South Korea, Viki)

You know a drama is good when it has you deeply invested in a random topic you never thought you were interested in. In this case, that's the intense debate on pedagogical methods between the public schools and hagwons in Korea. Alongside delivering a great romance, this drama was passionate about teaching and it sucked me right in to the Korean literature lessons at the heart of the story.

Unknown (Taiwan)

No other drama inspired more brain rot in me this year than this story of a family rocked by changing feelings as the chosen siblings grow up. The loyalty and love and complex desire between Wei Qian and Wei Yuan is the heart of this story, and the drama did an incredible job of taking us along for the journey as things shifted and changed between them. I still think about them all the time.

Bonus: Favorite Classic Dramas Watched for the First Time in 2024

I am always catching up on an endless backlog of dramas alongside my live watches. Here are the best gems I finally watched this year.

Lost (South Korea, Viki)

I loved this deeply melancholy drama about two lost souls who connect unexpectedly. I finally pulled it up from my to be watched list because it shares director Hur Jin Ho with Love in the Big City (he did part 2 with Go Young's mom) and it sure feels like it! The characters are deep and complicated, the relationships are complex and carefully built, and it is hands down the best encapsulation of a failed marriage between two good people who truly loved each other that I have ever seen. It's heavy and not for everyone--mining the depths of human despair is kind of its thing--but if you like this sort of story it's world class.

Mouse (South Korea, Viki)

I was recently in the market for a good mystery thriller, so I finally watched this apparently very divisive 2021 drama--and if there's a divide I am firmly on the HELL YEAH side of the line. This drama had an interesting concept (that I will not describe bc holy shit spoilers, you should go in knowing nothing) that it unwound with remarkable patience and precision over 20 episodes. Its themes were strong and consistent, the lead characters were super compelling, the plotting and pacing and editing were unbelievably tight, the performances were incredible, and it made a lot of provocative points and ended well, feeling coherent and complete. It sustained my full interest and attention without any stumbles for ~25 incredible hours.

Mr. Sunshine (South Korea, Netflix)

Another one that's been on my watch list forever and finally got its moment when I was in the mood for a historical where ladies got to wield weapons alongside the men. And unsurprisingly, I loved it. Writer Kim Eun Sook is known for her big, glossy, epic dramas, and her style made a good pairing with a story about a rebel faction during the Japanese occupation of Korea. I really loved all the main characters in this show, and was moved by the complicated exploration of their loyalty (or lack thereof) to their homeland. This drama also has a very strong class analysis baked into its themes, which I very much appreciated. It was a traumatic watch, but in a way that felt right given the setting and the choices characters made.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (Thailand, YouTube)

I watched this one on a mission and it was worth every moment. Nut is one of my favorite protagonists in any queer drama, and I thought the show made great use of its fantasy concept to explore some very real human experiences with depth and compassion. This show feels like an especially important counterpoint to the Thal BL bubble, and I recommend it highly for anyone who enjoys those dramas.

When I Fly Towards You (China, Netflix)

And we end on a light and sweet note, with my favorite coming of age romance that I watched all year. This drama was just lovely, and it will be a go-to rewatch for me for years to come. There’s something so comforting about a story where you start with the happy ending before jumping to the beginning, and just get to sit back and see how they get there. I loved all the characters in this and marveled at how it was never boring despite being decidedly low angst.

[lidiasloca]

despite the hatred, despite the love

part three

azriel x reader

summary: the inner circle atends Helion's party to meet his new second in command, and while she seems to be just a beautiful girl, the hatred that Azriel feels for her and displays for everyone to see isn't bought by his brother, who will soon find out there is something more than hate between them... maybe even love.

“Where is he?” she uttered, almost breathless.

‘I flew him to… a healer.”

Y/N could read perfectly through his unsure words, the doubtful look he gave to his High Lady.

“I know about Velaris,” Y/N stated, too far to care about anything other than Azriel. “About Madja.”

Shock settled into Feyre’s face, turning with raised brows to Cassian. “How?” was all she asked when she turned to face her again.

“Azriel told me…”

Confusion and a glint of fear painted the High Lady’s face.

“Feyre,” Y/N spoke calmly, walking closer to her. “I’m no enemy—no threat to the city. Azriel knew that when he told me. He’s…”

A secret for a secret. Velaris for Azriel and Y/N.

“He’s my mate,” she said at last.

Her mouth fell slightly open, while Cassian stood there—no surprise on his face. Y/N shot him a questioning glance that was answered with a nod. “He told me. Just before he…”

Got shot.

Rush and fear settled into Y/N’s veins, moving her hand to Feyre’s. “Winnow me to him, please.”

The desperation in her voice made Feyre react as fast as a lightning flash, and within a blink, darkness surrounded the three of them.

…

He can’t be dead.

He can’t.

She’d feel it.

She would. They are mates. She would. Mates…

“Am I?”

“Is this about Helion?”

“Am I?”

Mates. Dead. Dead. Azriel.

“Y/N! Y/N, for fuck’s sake! Do you hear me?”

“I do,” she mumbled, shaking her head slightly as her eyes adjusted to reality. “Where…”

Where are we? Where is he?

She gave herself a moment to breathe, to think and calm her about-to-explode heart. “Where is he?” she finally asked, still slightly breathless.

Cassian had long stopped shaking her shoulders, yet his worry remained. “You are very pale.”

“Are you alright?” Feyre asked, standing next to them. Y/N moved her eyes to her, noticing their new surroundings.

This has to be the House of Wind, she thought, remembering Azriel’s descriptions.

Azriel.

Y/N fought her sickness and straightened her spine, only to make Cassian see he could finally let her go. “Where is he?” she repeated, this time more imposing.

They both moved their eyes to the same place. The same door at the end of the hallway.

That’s where Y/N was walking to immediately, taking one sure step after another, only stopping when her hand was on the knob.

She turned her head to the pair. Her eyes speaking for her—they understood her plea, or at least Cassian did.

Y/N didn’t quite understand why, but at the sight of his approving nod, she was thankful beyond words that they let her have a moment alone with him.

Something that had become so rare.

But it was not a time to think about that—not anymore. Maybe the Cauldron had been mean and wise enough to throw this upon them to make them realize what truly matters the most.

When she closed the door behind her and found the courage to look at Azriel, she only had one thought on her mind.

It wasn’t Helion or that stupid kiss.

It wasn’t the mission or that damn discussion.

Mate. That was what echoed in her mind—mate.

And there he was, lying on a bed with his eyes closed, his scarred hands resting at his sides. He looked so peaceful in his slumber Y/N couldn’t help the rising fear in her gut… dead.

Dead.

Dead.

“Y/N?”

It was so low, a whisper as weak as the wind, yet it was enough to make her crumble.

A sob broke through her as she took a step toward him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m here,” she cried, moving a trembling hand to his face, brushing his black hair away from his pale face.

She still hadn’t peeked at his bandaged wounds closely—she couldn’t. So she just watched his eyes slowly open and meet hers.

A tear slid down his face at the sight of his mate. “You are here,” he echoed, trying to believe it was true.

“Of course I’m here, Azriel.”

“I thought,” he murmured, squeezing her hand with his. “I thought you might hate me.”

“Hate you?” she cried as another sob broke from her. “Azriel, never. I love you—more than anything.”

He closed his eyes, more tears wetting his face. “I thought…” A sob from him made her lean closer to her mate. “When I got shot, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would die with you hating me.”

“Azriel,” she wept, words running from her.

“But I didn’t die. And now I know—we cannot go on like this, Y/N. I don’t want to keep it secret. I hate risking you—letting everyone know you are my mate. But… I just don’t want to keep it a secret anymore. I can’t.”

“I know…” she mumbled. “I know. I don’t want it either.”

“I want,” he continued. “I want my family to know. I want my mother to know. I want… Helion to know.” He let out a short chuckle, making Y/N smile faintly, looking deep into his eyes. “And… I don’t want to fight anymore about the missions…”

“Az,” she started, but he silenced her sweetly with his hand moving to her face to caress her cheek.

“No more dangerous missions. Only spying.” At her incredulous face, he added with a loving smile. “I promise.”

“Really?” she cried, not able to stop the tears.

“Turns out death teaches you loads,” he mused.

She shook her head with a smile. “You didn’t die, you fool.”

A silent moment passed as his longing eyes met her soul. “But it came so close… close enough to realize what I live for.”

She moved to hug him, not able to utter a word. “Come here,” Azriel urged, gesturing to the space left in his bed.

She obliged, crawling gently to his side. Face hidden in his neck, he found a place for his hands on her waist and back, his strokes lulling her to sleep.

“How did you get here so fast?” he found himself asking once he felt her breathing was calmer, her beating heart more rhythmic.

“Cassian came to tell me and Feyre directly. Does he… know?”

She felt him nod, his chin grazing her head. “He’s a busybody—it was a matter of time before he found out.”

At that, Y/N smiled widely. “He is. But I am thankful he knew and came directly.”

“So, he flew you two here himself?”

“Feyre winnowed us.”

Azriel quickly looked down, searching her eyes. “What? You, Y/N, let yourself be winnowed?”

“Yes,” she smiled, hitting him softly on his good arm. “I did.”

“Y/N, you cannot bear winnowing,” he replied plainly, shock still alive in his eyes.

“I did it for love, fool.”

He beamed widely, taking in her words as he leaned in to kiss her forehead sweetly. “I love you, Y/N.”

She smiled contentedly, letting silence unfold upon them.

But the question made its way through her. “What did the healer say, Az?”

“I’ll be alright,” he said, and it sounded more like a promise than a truth.

She nodded all the same, trying to focus only on his warmth, his sweet embrace—not his wounds, or the redness in his eyes from the tears.

It was a very beautiful promise whatsoever. 

“We’ll be alright.”

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

BASED ON THIS REQUEST

@bravo-delta-eccho @writtenbypavani @topaz125 @tiredsleepyhead @moonfawnx @buttermilktea11 @onebadassunicorn @nightcourt-daydreaming @tothestarsandwhateverend @shadowsingercassia

[lilac-sweet]

My interpretation of all the Solas endings:

I have been wanting to write about this topic for a while, since I’ve seen a lot of criticisms about Solas being out-of-character. IMO all the Solas endings are brilliantly written, and here’s why:

Solas breaks in 3 different ways:

1: Breaks his wisdom (Becomes Pride)

2: Breaks his pride (Becomes Wisdom)

3: Breaks his leash/conviction (Becomes more human)

1: Breaks his wisdom:

Solas has always walked the line between pride and wisdom: unlike pure spirits, he is able to fluctuate between them - just like Mythal with benevolence and retribution. This makes him more “human” and complex: he even instructs Cole in how being a “demon” and being a “spirit” essentially comes down to a choice we make ourselves.

So Solas is clearly aware of his own failings (just look at his name), but his greatest flaw is not changing in accordance with his own awareness. Due to his wisdom, he knows he is prideful, so he constantly asserts that he is NOT a god: this is as much to make others not worship him as the dread wolf, AND as a mantra to himself to keep him from becoming another Elgar’nan.

However, the limelight is an intoxicating thing, and with him choosing to carry the cross as the dread wolf, he invites that prideful corruption into his heart. It is difficult to truly believe you are not more special than everyone else when everyone else keep telling you how you totally are. As a spirit made man, he is still in danger of becoming what others view him as: he mirrors how you treat him in inquisiton, and he took the name of fen’harel (probably uttered by Elgar’nan) as a badge of pride.

We are told he treats everyone as disposable pawns in order to reach his goals, and we also see the truth of this in his memories. Some people argue that this is out of character for him, since he cares deeply for the elven people and their freedom. I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive: he simply rationalizes everything in order to reach his goal of helping the elves: even if that means sacrificing people

The thing that is so chilling about his character is that he was never meant to lead - he never WANTED to lead either: Mythal was the judge, he her advisor. Without her caring heart to guide his brilliant mind, he becomes callous and makes decisions based only on how best to “win”. This is not to say he does not have a heart, but that he believes he has to set it aside for the greater good: which is exactly where his reasons for leading the rebellion/ tearing down the veil and his methods for doing so contradict each other

He ends up losing sight of his initial reasons because the war makes him so calloused. I believe he shuts down emotionally and can not feel anything but apathy towards everyone when he puts on the mask of the dread wolf - as seen in how he treats the inquisitor vs Rook.

By making so many decisions with such dire consequences and not letting himself feel the weight of that (it would break him) he becomes separated from the “pawns” he uses and stops thinking of them as people. The world becomes a chessboard and a game to him, and that is exactly how a god would think.

That is also the reason he becomes so angry at Rook for saying he views himself as a god: he is so afraid of becoming that conceited, but at this point, the thing keeping him sane and keeping the dam of his pride sealed is the mantra: “I am not a god”. He KNOWS the truth of that mantra, but as this point he doesn’t FEEL it, because he has denied himself to feel anything for anyone in order to be able to get rid of them if logic dictates it.

Through his wisdom he understands why it is detrimental to believe yourself a god, and because of this he is in denial of his own feelings on the matter: he acts like a god, feels like a god, yet knows that he would become what he hates most by acknowledging it - that’s why he uses the mantra: it’s his last effort to stay somewhat grounded.

This brings me to the “I AM A GOD” ending. This is where the dam breaks: he finally allows himself to fully embody his mask; his pride; his demonic side.

By losing to Rook and co through force he is forced to admit to himself that he sees Rook and the world as inferior - he is the only one who can make it right and they are all children, who do not understand him (they shunned understanding when they used brutish force) because compared to them he is a GOD. He accepts pride and abandons the wisdom of staying grounded with the people - the people abandoned him so he abandons the people. He becomes what he has feared most becoming (it is also interesting that his biggest fear is to be alone - and a god stands alone in their arrogance).

He is truly lost to his demonic aspect in this ending and the dark colours of the ending picture reflect this. It is not difficult to argue this is the most tragic ending.

2: Breaks his pride:

Most schadenfreude ending in terms of outsmarting Fen’harel: proving to the world AND to Solas he is not a god and that he is not immune to be outsmarted by a mortal

It breaks Solas’ ego to be outsmarted, since his cleverness is his pride. It sets him free from his pride as it was the proof he so desperately needed: the people inhabiting this world are capable of being his equal and besting him at his own game. He is not better than them, or better put: his cleverness is not infallible. You could argue that a romanced Lavellan/ friendly inquisitor has already proven to be his equal in terms of wisdom, but then again, he has never truly been their adversary.

There is a maddening clarity to him when he finally says “and I am a fool”. I find the break of his pride to be heartbreaking: even though we are told it is a demon version of wisdom, we have seen Solas balancing both aspects - and his name also reflects how big a part of him it is. You could argue he becomes less of a person in both the Pride and Wisdom ending, but more demon/spirit. It is a loss of human complexity and he finally returns to the Fade more alike himself before he took on physical form.

Perhaps it can be argued this ending is the best one from Solas’ P.o.V without a romanced Lavellan: after all, she was the only thing that could “steal his attention from the Fade” or in other words: the only reason he would consider willingly taking physical form without being asked to.

3. Breaks his leash:

The third one is more complex (so bear with me here), because accepting your mistakes and growing in order to not repeat them requires human complexity. A thing Solas has avoided his entire physical existence. He is stuck in regret, yet would repeat all his mistakes again given the chance.

His avoidance of humanity is best seen in the contradiction of his disregard for lives and his conviction of freedom for the elves. His nature compels him to stand against tyranny and enslavement - to be a champion of freedom of choice and thought. Yet as a leader and a strategist he refuses to acknowledge that people matter in more ways than being pawns. He will grieve them later, yes, but his love for a person will never waver his decision if he deems their sacrifice the best course of action in the war - he will not even ask their consent (as seen with the Disruption spirit in the Fade memories).

He does not acknowledge that people are an intrinsic part of war and their lives matter in that equation. He struggles with his mistakes and the lives lost but he can not stop to think he might be going about it all wrong, because I imagine he fears if he factors in the emotional weight of his choices, it would impede his end goal, or worse: break him into indecision.

The emotional weight of the war and the lives lost, his mistakes and his position as a leader - not an advisor, are so against his spirit nature that he suppresses these issues instead of dealing with them like a person. He becomes prideful because he shuts other options out. His way is the only way.

He sees everything fall apart: everything he does: disaster is sure to follow: The blight, trapping the elven gods, the murder of Mythal (x2) - yet he can not stop. He does not know how. He is desperate for a way out - a way out of regret and feeling the weight of his mistakes - he pushes on because that is his only option lest he truly faces what he has done and the pointlessness of it all. All the lives he has sacrificed need to mean something - that is what he sacrificed them for. How can he face that he killed them and not have an excuse for doing so?

In the last ending he is forced to talk about these things: the Inquisitor tells him he is forgiven if he just stops. Yet this is not enough - he has sacrificed Mythal (and in ways himself) to reach his goal and it can not have been in vain. Here Mythal jumps in and helps him carry the weight of it all by shouldering it beside him. He finally lets himself feel the weight of it all and it breaks his conviction. Mythal releases him from her service: the leash of service to not only Mythal, but to her dreams and visions for the elven people; the very reason he was made manifest in the physical world, and so their very long and increasingly painful relationship comes to an end. He gets closure. He allows himself to grow and so he sets out to undo his mistakes: to sit with them (the blight) and truly do the best he can to heal what can be healed. It is the most difficult ending - a true apology: he has to pull a Bharv.

It is also the ending which was foreshadowed if you chose to let Varric help Cole in inquisition. I might get into this more in another post, but essentially he becomes more human by dealing with his shit and growing. It is a warm thought that the best ending is the ending Varric helped make way for.

It wraps up the story nicely as well: he enters the Fade a human, just like he entered the physical world a spirit, underlining the complexity of his character arc.

This is also the only ending in which he can end up with Lavellan: I think it is poetic that she can only join him if he becomes more human, less spirit; a mix of both Wisdom and Pride. He has to accept his humanity and the weight of a human heart - metaphorically, he has to make the choice to finally enter the physical world and all of its complexities of his own volition: and there he finds her waiting.

[sweetbunpura]

Filled with Static pt.3

Summary: Yuu was already fed up before coming to Playful Land and now that it's over... She has some very choice words for she has reached her boiling point...

Part 1 - Part 2

"Ace-"

"What?" Ace rubbed the bruise on his cheek as they entered Heartslabyul. "I heard it enough from the others, I ain't gotta hear it from you two too."

Trey and Cater look at each other as the first year shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Ace, we're trying to say we're all at fault here." Trey tries again.

Cater adds in. "Yeah, Ace. We didn't do anything to stop you-"

"But you did!" He shouted. "You both said he looked shady and I ignored you two!"

"True, but we also didn't physical stop-"

"Where do I even try to begin?"

The three of them paused as they entered the lounge. Riddle and Deuce were standing there, the first year was behind the seething dorm leader.

"I'm very sure I deliberately told you NOT to go to that amusement park." Riddle glared at the three of them. "So why did you feel the need to disobey me? And what about you two, Trey and Cater?"

Ace was silent as he looked off to the side while Trey took charge of the situation.

"Riddle, I followed him out of the dorm-"

"And yet you chose now to bring him back?"

"We ran into some problems-"

"I assume the problem was spending all day at that park."

Riddle's tone was cold and sharp, cutting off any attempt Trey had at trying to give an excuse. The vice leader deflated, not willing to try and continue for an out.

"I believed you to be better than this, Trey." He crossed his arms and directed his attention towards Cater. "And you?"

"Hahahaha...." Cater rubbed the back of his head. "I, um, Lilia-chan and I thought it would be a good idea to.... uh, allow Kalim to go to the park?"

"With Jamil's permission?"

"About that?"

"You too!?" Riddle began to shout. "What could drive you both to even chose to do this!? I understand that I've been lenient on the rules lately, but certainly not to this degree!"

Cater and Trey flinched while Ace rolled his eyes. Before Riddle could start his tangent, Deuce chimed in.

"Ace, why do you have a bruise on your cheek?"

"Huh?" Ace rubbed the mark. "Oh. Yuu punched me."

"What?" Deuce looked confused. "Why would she- I mean I get it, it's you. But Yuu hardly punches any of us-"

"Wrong, Juice, she doesn't punch you." Ace scoffed. "She punched me for no reason-"

"Ace." Cater's voice had lost his playfulness. "Yuu got hurt, you said the off comment sentence of 'why don't you just go back home?'"

"You what?" Deuce's face twist in rage and he grabbed Ace's collar. "Did you forget that she can't!?"

"Of course I forgot! It didn't cross my mind when I said it!"

"Nothing every does, Ace, and that's the problem! She's told us about how much she'd love to go back home and you rubbed it in!?" Trey and Cater tried prying Deuce's hands off of the red head.

"Fuck off and let go of me!" Ace joined his upperclassman's hands

"Ace, you do this every time! You mock Yuu for not knowing the holidays we have and for the things she doesn't know! You forget she's not from here!"

"You don't have to rub it in!" Ace snarled. "Everyone else already did!"

"You're so fucking bullheaded and insensitive, no wonder Yuu doesn't tell you shit!"

"Deuce, let him go. You don't need to waste your breath on him anymore." Riddle commanded.

The blue haired first year glared at the heart solider before dropping him on the floor like he was a pile of trash. Riddle studied Ace as he directed his attention to Trey and Cater

"....Am I wrong for assume that Yuu left?"

"....No." Trey's shoulders sagged. "She left and didn't take Grim with her. Riddle, she's.... she's done with us. Done with NRC."

His eyes widened and it took a few seconds before he spoke. "....What happened."

With much hesitation, Trey and Cater begin to recount what happened as Ace crossed his arms and added in commentary. By the end of it, Riddle was livid and trying to hold not only himself back but Deuce as well.

"I have no words." Riddle struggled to control his breathing. "You three have done irreversible damage all in the span of a day. Get out of my sight, I'll decide your punishment later. Come, Deuce."

"Yes, Sir."

They depart as they leave the trio there to ruminate on what they've done. Eventually, Cater shuffles off to his room while Ace leaves for his in a huff. Trey stands in the middle of the Lounge and feel his heart drop to his feet before he too departs for his room. The next day, all three of them are awoke by a text message simply stating:

All named students come to Crowley's office at once. Ace Trappola, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Jack Howl, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Ortho Shroud, and Lilia Vanrouge.

[flowersforthemachines]

Ranking everyone's Hero of the Veilguard armours (because I have nothing better to do)

I realised I needed to gather my thought's on everyone's drip so here are my humble opinions (with numbers and pictures)

Disclaimer: I took this very seriously, but you probably shouldn't. This is based on my personal opinion, which, while undoubtedly correct, may now align with your own. And that's okay.

14 - Titan's Vengeance (Harding)

That is definitely an armour. One of the armours ever, perhaps!

While I understand that it's meant to evoke the image of the dwarves as we see them in DAVG, I simply do not vibe with this outfit. Like, at all. It got an honest chuckle out of me when I saw it in the game, but I would never put Harding through the torture of wearing it. Which is too bad because I'd pick her embracing the Titan's anger over its compassion any day. A pity the fashion doesn't keep up.

13 - Rivain's Legacy (Taash)

Putting my opinions on certain aspects of their questline aside ("yes, you can be non-binary, but we draw the line at being multicultural"), this outfit doesn't even seem to be based on Taash's model. Anyone who has seen their romance scene (I have <3) should be able to tell these are not their legs. Their gorgeous calves wouldn't fit into those metal things. Bioware should be ashamed.

12 - The Qun's Honour (Taash)

That outfit doesn't make a lot of sense to me personally. I can live with the fact that most companion outfits are reused assets, but why is the Lords of Fortune armour of all things meant to represent Taash pursuing Qunari culture? Did no one at the office stop to think how weird that was? Like for real.

11 - Grey Benefactor (Davrin)

This outfit belongs in the "He Would Not Fucking Wear That" category. It also commits the cardinal sin of making Davrin look smaller (in my eyes), which not even the essence of Mythal could help to find redemption for. A shame after a shame.

10 - Crow's Tenacity (Lucanis)

This outfit is... a lot. Why is there so much metal, aren't assassins supposed to be silent 'n sneaky n' stuff? What are those patterns? Is that a FUR COLLAR??? I fell in love with a man with a horrible fashion sense

9 - Crow's Poise (Lucanis)

Marginally better than its counterpart, this outfit still leaves me with a lot of questions. I won't ask what is up with the feathers (I get it. they are crows) but I still find feather pauldrons to be a crime of fashion.

If Harding's Titan armour brought me a chuckle, this caused a groan because it took me 70h~ to reach the end of Lucanis's questline on my first playthrough and my reward was THIS?

(why did I have to fall for that guy of all people)

8 - Archivist's Mail (Bellara)

This simply does not scream Bellara to me. Even her glove and the scarf aren't enough to make that armour look like something of her own. It's definitely missing the flair (bits and baubles!!!) from her other armours, which may not be a fashion crime, but is still deeply regrettable.

7 - Wild Benefactor (Davrin)

This is like. It's a bit better than his other one, okay. It even started growing on me over time, in a way I can't comprehend yet also can't deny. Maybe he would fucking wear that, I don't know.

6 - Investigator's Robes (Neve)

I was originally tempted to rank it higher because I liked its description mentioning that Neve wearing robes (which she normally doesn't do) is a statement. It's cool thematically.

But I shall not let Bioware gaslight me into forgetting that it's just a Shadow Dragons robe conveniently recoloured to suit that narrative. Try harder next time.

5 - Graven Vestments

It's nice (especially compared to some other armours), but not Emmrich-y enough in my opinion. It lacks the personality present in his starting outfit. Peepaw deserves something more special for overcoming the greatest fear of his life, wouldn't you think?

4 - Threader's Plates (Neve)

This armour gets bonus points because it actually took me a while to recognise it was a recoloured Defiant Plate. Neve really makes it her own!

Other than that, it looks good, but is it *great*? It is *meaningful*? Not really. It would also look cooler if Neve's hair was down (the same applies to any other hatless outfit).

3 - Lich's Vestige (Emmrich)

That outfit is just so fucking cool. The exposed ribcage? The high collar? Black and gold? Now that is Emmrich Volkarin. And I do have a special appreciation for companion armours being, you know, *unique* models.

However, while undoubtedly stylish, the armour leaves behind a question: was it worth it?...

2 - Inquisition Spotter (Harding)

I may be an Inquisition hater deep down (sorry), but this armour still prompted a lonely tear to run down my cheek when I first saw it. It's such a nice callback to the past in a game that's so different from all previous DAs that it melted my cold, cold heart.

I was especially touched by the embroidery representing the members of the Inquisition. Harding carries her memories of them wherever she goes!!! :)

1 - Reborn Leathers (Bellara)

Is this biased? Yes, of course, this is biased. Bellara is my favourite girl, everyone else stood no chance. Like, she literally has a crown on her head - who else deserved the first place, if not her?

Jokes aside, this outfit is everything I would expect from a reward for completing a companion's storyline - a completely new outfit that retains the spirit of the original design while bringing new elements to it.

Sometimes what you need to make a good experience better is to see your fave in a cool outfit. For this one, Bioware has my sincere thanks.

[orbweaverspidergirl]

The Four Times You meet Arkham Knight, and the One Time You meet Jason

summary: Your twin brother is dead, and he's not coming back. You know that, but when you see a man who acts just like Jason, you can't help but think of him.

tw: mentions of tranquilization (not on reader), guns, being knocked out, being threatened with a gun (not on reader), mentions of death, very brief mention of blood, reader feeling somewhat suicidal (not outwardly stated).

A/N: This is very angsty and I started crying towards the end of writing this. This is gender neutral! This is part 2 for the Jason Todd Twin Drabbles. Requests are open!

Tim Drake hurt you. He was a replacement for your brother, and yet, he didn’t mean to be. He was just a kid, just like you once were when starting out as Robin. He didn’t have good support, not from home, and especially not from Bruce. So, you became that for him, you took your grief and resentment, and you did your best to let it go. You would always love Jason, and you would always cry over him, but he’s dead, and you can’t change that. 

Once you started coming around for the kid, he was sweet. He rambled and was skittish, but you grew to love the boy called your brother. But he didn’t take the grief away from losing your twin. He never would. So sometimes, you would bring yourself out to a roof. His death would hit you the most after a patrol. Whenever you both finished the night, you would get something to eat. You would celebrate you both winning. You don’t celebrate anymore, so you would cry. You didn’t cry anywhere other than a roof, after a patrol. As a kid, no one saw you cry, only Jason. He was the only one allowed, and you kept it that way. Your mask was off, the green mantle you wore was in your hands, clinging on for dear life in the wind. 

That’s when you heard it over your loud sobs. Banging footsteps clashed on the roof’s surface, and you stood up. Your face drenched in tears and sweat from the fighting before. Before you was a man in a metal suit with the waist cinched in what looked like red camouflage. He wore heavy gear, and you looked up at him. He walked just like Jay did, and for a moment you imagine the random man as him. Tears flow from your eyes once more. 

“I’m, I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

You feel him analyzing you, just like Tim does, and just like Bruce did all those years ago. “What for?” His voice is heavily modulated, you realize. It makes you suspicious, and you put your mask back on. 

“You just,” you take a heavy swallow, “You reminded me of my brother.” The words slip out of your mouth before you realize it. You shouldn’t have let that information be known, especially to a man that looks as dangerous as he sounds. 

“I’m sure your brother loves you.” You smile under the mask and let out a breathless laugh. 

“He did. He loved me very much.” You nod towards the man in respect. “Thank you?” You leave it in a question, waiting for his name.

“I’m no one. Not yet anyways.” Then, he’s gone, just like your brother. 

Eventually, you found out who “no one” was, and he was in fact, not a no one. “Arkham Knight” the new big bad of Gotham. Is Gotham the only place villains care to go too?? You sigh, as Batman flies to the bridge while you run, but Arkham Knight wasn’t your focus for right now, it was scarecrow. You see Gordon and his men in the distance, and you come to a stop.

While your father comes to a landing, you go up to the cop. He looks weary, and you could understand why. “Have you heard anything else, or is it still silent?” You ask the man, looking up at the building connected to the bridge. Batman walks behind you, listening on. 

“Nothing. We think there’s a skeleton crew in there, but they're not responding, and the facility is on lockdown.” You and the Bat share a look. 

“Green, I want you in there. Keep your guard up and be careful.” You nod towards your father, and your heart aches a little. He only started saying be careful when Jason died. He didn’t want to lose another kid, and even if you were mad at him for replacing your brother with Tim, you could never hate Bruce. You start a jog to the facility, and you bring out your tranquilizer gun, keeping a steady hold on it. You turn your head when you hear a loud “brr” sound in the distance. A helicopter flies in the air, and you furrow your eyebrows. 

“What the hell...” You mumble, and you turn your gaze to your father and Gordon. You then see the large rockets on the side of the helicopter. “Shit!” You start to run away from the door, but instead of being shot, the area between you and the others are. The helicopter drives up to Batman as he walks up to it. You can barely hear anything, the helicopter wings blocking everything out, but over your comms you gather that same modulated voice saying don’t shoot her. 

You have no time to think over it when the helicopter flies up, and the big doors behind you open. You hear your father yell out your hero's name as two cars with extended guns on the roof point at you. You run out of the way, but once again the guns don’t shoot at you, they only target Batman. You quickly realize the bias, putting two and two together. Whoever this is doesn't want you, they want Batman. You use this chance of distraction to run into the facility. You set out your grappling hook, and it carries you up onto the ‘ACE Chemicals’ sign. 

“Green, are you in?” You hear Bruce speak through the comms. 

“Yes. I’m on the sign. The men below noticed me flying in, but other than that, they can’t find me.” You grapple onto the actual building. You land softly onto the concrete and make your way onto the side. A large drop is there, and you get shivers down your spine. You kick in one of the windows and then jump through. You scan the area, bringing out your tranquilizer gun, but the room is empty. 

“I’m in a room now, there are desks and a large whiteboard with notes, but other than that, it’s nothing important.” 

“Good, I’m making my way in now.”

“Heard.” You open the door, and eye the hallway. You feel eerie, and you worry that it's a trap. You let out a breath and continue walking down the hallway. You make your way downstairs, and it’s still empty. 

“I’m in the building.” 

“I’m on the second to last hallway. It’s empty, no one in sight.” You hear nothing else on the other end, so you continue your descent. It’s like this for a while, until you hear a man struggling behind a door. 

“HELP...! HELPP, PLEASE!” You kick open the door, your gun pointed out in front. You see Arkham Knight pointing a gun towards a man tied up in rope. 

Arkham Knight looks at you, and you shudder. “It’s about time you showed up. I began to worry.” His tone is mocking, and you scowl, putting your finger on the trigger. 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” You yell; confusion clear in your voice. 

He lets out a sardonic laugh. “C’mon baby bird, you really don’t know?” You frown. No one called you that other than Dick or Jay, and for a moment you hope. You hope that this man is really your brother, your Jason. 

“Jay?” You mumble, and you wait. You wait for him to give you a sign that it is him. That this is your brother. He rips off the helmet, and you drop your gun. It’s your brother, your sweet big brother. Your twin. He’s alive. You run to him, disregarding the tied-up man, and you hear Bruce speak over the comms, trying to reach you. You don’t listen to his voice, you only hold Jason tight, crying on his shoulder. 

“Shhh, I know baby bird, I know.” He holds you tight, just like he did when you were kids, and you cry even more. 

“Green! Green, are you with me?” Batman yells over comms. 

“Batman, I think it’s time I take my twin off your hands. I’ll take care of them far better than you ever did anyways.” You lift your head up from his shoulders. 

“Jay, what-” He hits the back of your neck, and your vision goes spotty. The last thing you see is your brother picking you up. 

When you wake up, you’re lying on a bed. You have new clothes on, and your suit is nowhere to be found. When you try to get up, you realize your legs are chained to the bed. You struggle against the chains, feeling betrayed by your brother. Not only that, but you feel wronged. Why would he do this? Why would he try to kill Bruce? Why would he kill innocent people? What happened to your brother? Why is he acting this way?

 “JASON!” You yell, anger clear in your voice. Immediately, the door swings open, and your twin brother walks in. He’s out of his suit, and you admire his new features even in your anger. He has a streak of white hair, and a J gouged in his cheek. He looks over at you, as he sits on the end of the bed. You scowl, “Jason, what the hell is this?” You lift up both your legs. 

He looks down at the chains, and smirks boyishly. It reminds you of when you were younger, and you turn your face away. This isn’t teenage boy Jay, this is Arkham Knight, and he certainly is not your brother. You feel stupid. You feel incredibly stupid for falling in his trap. He used your grief to make you weak, and it worked. You almost feel proud; he was always smarter than you. 

He reaches out to you, touching your face. “I missed you.” His voice is earnest, and that hurts you even more, because you know he means it. 

“Stop this, Jason. Please. Stop this.” You plead, you don’t know what for. Maybe you want him to stop trying to kill Bruce, maybe you want him to stop touching you, or maybe you want him to stop pretending. You don’t know, and that hurts you all the more. 

“No. I won’t stop. He let me die, Bruce fucking left me to die!” He yells, and you flinch back, crying. “Do you know how long I waited?! How long I wished for Batman to save me, to have my partner save me!” 

“We tried!” You scream back, tears flooding from your eyes. “We tried Jason. We searched for you for days, and we couldn’t find you.” You break down crying, and you hug yourself. “I never stopped. I didn’t believe anyone when they said you were dead, not until I saw what Joker sent, and even then. I never stopped.” He wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. 

“I’m sorry...” His voice cracks, “Please don’t cry. You know I hate it when you cry.” And he did. He hated when you cried, so he would hold you. He would hold you, just like this. “I promise, I’ll make it better.” He whispers, and then he kisses your forehead. You see him get off the bed and walk out of the room. 

You don’t react, but you can’t help but feel the same when he died. You couldn’t do anything now, and you couldn’t do anything then. 

It takes you a day to break off the chains. Your fingers feel numb and bloody from holding them tight, and kicking them against the bed frame, but it works, and they break. You get the bed frame and shove it against the door. You know there’s cameras in the room, but you pay it no mind. By the time his goons get here, you’ll already be gone. 

You walk over the only window in the room. It’s large enough to get through, but the only problem is you have no gear to jump off with. The drop is far too high to not get hurt in some way, and so you rip the sheets off the bed. You hear banging on the door, and you sigh. You got too cocky and didn’t think it through that you needed a fucking way out of the window. 

You look out the window once more, and you feel tired. You feel like giving up. If you jump out of this window now, there’s a chance you’ll survive, and a higher chance you won’t. They’ve busted open the door, and in the distance, you see Arkham Knight first and foremost behind his men. Your heart breaks as your brother yells out your name, your real name, but you jump.

And you live. 

The world is white, and you advert your eyes from the searing color. You feel pain all across your body, and that’s how you know you survived. You hear a machine, and you realize it’s a heart monitor. You're on a white bed, with a blue gown on, and you sit up. You smile when you see Tim and Barbara. They both have fallen asleep leaning on each other. Behind the glass window, connected to the hallway, you see your dad and Jason talking. 

They haven’t noticed you yet, and you wish to keep it that way. Tim’s eyes start to flutter, and once he realizes you're up, he jumps out of the chair. “You’re awake!” He yells, wrapping his arms around you. 

You laugh, and you hug him back. “Hey Timmy, how are you?” He rolls his eyes and sits on the bed with you. 

“How am I? How are you? You almost died! Do you know how worried we all were?” You feel guilty, so you squeeze his shoulder. 

“I know and I’m sorry. But I’m here now, and so are you.” You hear Barbara roll her chair towards the bed. 

“That you are. We were worried sick.” She says, and you almost want to cry again. 

“I know.” You hug her, and she hugs you back.

“We missed you. I missed you.” She whispers in your ear, and you press a kiss to her head. You glance out the window, looking at the two men. 

“What’s up with that?” You ask. Barbara just sighs, and Tim looks away nervously. 

“Jason is... Back. However, him and Bruce have been going at it for days. Maybe they’ll stop once they realize you’re awake but...” She shrugs. You look at Jason, and he finally notices you. He starts to walk in the room with Bruce following right behind him. 

“Where’s Dick?” You ask. 

“He’s on his way.” Bruce says, then he goes to hug you, covering your whole body. You hug him back, squeezing the man. 

“How you feeling, old man?” Your tone is teasing, and he sighs. 

“Tired of being berated by my own kids.” You smirk and pat his shoulders. Then, you look at Jason, and without hesitation, you jump into his arms. He catches you; he always does. 

“I missed you,” you whisper, holding him tight. 

“I know baby bird, I know. I’m back, and I won’t be going anywhere else.”