#no one can tell me this didn’t actually happen

[softspiderling]

like, ever | j.v

summary:

“Hey, I’m worried about you.”

You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.

“Why?”

She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito.

OR; You and Jace break up because of a stupid reason, but you’re both too proud to apologize.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: kinda toxic behavior from both of them, but like the usual issues in communication that’s so common in people our age idk what to tell you

word count: 4,1k

author’s note: modern au!jace is the president of the frat Alpha Draconis (it's co-ed, Rhaenyra was president during her time at uni), Jace/Aegon/Baela and their respective siblings are all cousins, but this is NOT in the same universe as can I go (where you go). thank you to my wonder sister wife beta @eldrith as usual <3

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“We broke up.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

Baela gave you a look, narrowing her eyes at you as she pushed her Econ 1 assignment away. You dropped down on the couch next to her, leaning your head back.

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you huffed and Baela whacked you in the arm.

“You just came home and dropped a bomb like that, you can’t just not talk about it.”

“Not talk about what?”

You internally groaned when Helaena’s voice floated from the hallway, the front door shutting behind her. An intervention was inevitable at this point. At least Rhaena wasn’t home yet, you knew she was volunteering until six.

“She and Jace broke up,” Baela told her and Helaena paused in the doorway to the living room, a frown on her face as she undid her braid.

“You didn’t.”

“That’s what I said!”

“You know, normal friends would offer ice cream if their friend was going through a break up.”

“I’d offer you ice cream if you were sad,” Helaena pointed out. She sat down next to you, patting your shoulder. “You don’t look sad.”

“Well, I am sad,” you sniffed, but Baela fixed her brown eyes at you until you threw your hands up in frustration. “Fine! I’m mostly mad, okay? Pissed off, actually!”

Baela folded her legs under herself. “Tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know, she just rubs me the wrong way. It’s like she knows you have a girlfriend and she chooses to ignore that.”

You and Jace were laying in his bed, your head on his chest. He had been telling you about the new pledges of the term, and you weren’t exactly fond of one of them - Laura, a nursing major. You were aware of her being especially touchy with Jace, twirling her hair while she was talking to him and always searching him out at every event. Which was fair, he was the president of the frat after all and at first you had told yourself that you were just projecting but the you noticed that she was laughing at all of Jace’s jokes. She was definitely into him. He was not that funny.

“I don’t know, it’s just the way she is, I think,” he said, and you frowned at him.

“Jace, come on, she’s totally into you.”

“Well, good thing I’m into you,” Jace pointed out, turning his head to nose along your neck but you pushed him away, starting to get annoyed that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I mean it, Jace.”

“So do I,” he answered, irritated. “Why does this bother you so much?”

“Because I don’t like another girl’s hands being all over you?”

You sat up, leaning away from him with a frown and he only sighed, laying his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes. He was starting to piss you off.

“She’s not into me! Everyone tries to butter me up because they want to join the frat. And even if she was, why does it matter?”

“It matters because it bothers me and you clearly don’t care!”

“Of course I care,” Jace sighed. He opened his eyes, reaching out for you, and you had to admit your resolve was starting to crumble. “You’re overreacting.”

And just like that, the wall was back up.

“Wow, thanks.”

Your voice was biting as you spoke, tugging your hand out of his grasp and standing up, grabbing your hoodie. Jace was quick to follow you, brows furrowed. Great, now both of you were mad.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Jace snapped and you only glared at him.

“Thanks for invalidating my feelings, Jacaerys,” you said sarcastically. “If I’m making a deal out of nothing, maybe we’re both nothing.”

Jace’s face fell and he stopped in his tracks, letting out a huff. “You don’t mean that.”

Maybe you didn’t. But you weren’t about to backtrack now. You were a woman of your words.

“Yes, I do.”

You pulled the door open and rushed out of his room, slamming the door shut behind you. Distantly, you could hear Jace call after you and you secretly hoped he would chase after you, but by the time you made it downstairs to the front door, he was still nowhere to be seen.

“That’s…”

Baela and Helaena exchanged a look and you frowned at them. While you hadn’t expected for them to immediately spring into assuring you that they were on your side - you were dating their cousin after all - you also didn’t quite imagined them being so… Shocked.

“What?” you asked, suddenly growing insecure. “I had a point.”

“Well, yeah,” Baela started, “But so did he.”

“Why did you immediately jump into breaking up?” Helaena asked with a soft voice, the voice you knew she used when she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You lifted your shoulders, then dropped them again, unable to answer her question.

“Did you want to break up?”

“No!”

You tucked your chin against your chest, a pit forming in your stomach. Did you maybe overreact?

“I was just mad,” you said, frowning, picking at the hem of your shirt.

“.. And you wanted to hurt him?” Baela said, finishing your sentence. Your head shot up, a denial on your lips, but your mouth closed when her words sunk in.

“… Maybe.”

“You two really are hotheaded and stubborn,” Helaena pointed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You only glowered, the anger from earlier dissipating and instead was replaced by misery and a little bit of guilt? Luckily, Helaena and Baela left you to your wallowing after they realized you needed some space and you fled to your bedroom, trying to bury yourself in your assignments.

There was only one slight problem. You couldn’t find school bag anywhere.

“Where did I leave it?” you muttered to yourself, checking under your desk for your bag, even opening the drawer for good measure. You were crawling on the floor looking under your bed when it finally dawned on you.

“Fuck.”

You had gone over to the frat’s house right after class, with your school bag. And after the fight, you must have forgotten to grab it.

“Ugh,” you groaned, dropping your forehead on the floor You’d rather crawl under your bed and sleep with the dust bunnies that have been collecting under there than go back to the frat house right now. But you had no choice. The assignment was was due the day after tomorrow and Professor Cole already was in a bad mood because his date went badly.

“Fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, turning to lay on your bad and cursed the Gods for making you miserable as you stared at the ceiling, collecting your wits.

“Oh.”

Luke Velaryon, Jace’s younger AND biological brother, stood in the doorway, apprehensive. He had always been the more sensitive one between the two brothers, but he was also unwaveringly loyal. You had no doubt that Jace had already told him everything about your fight.

“Hey Luke,” you said, giving him a wry smile.

“Hey,” he replied hesitantly. “Jace is not here.”

“I know.”

Luke pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around as if he was expecting his older brother to come out of the bushes any second. “Are you okay?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. What a sweet boy.

“Yeah, alright enough I guess,” you replied, sighing. “Listen, I forgot my bag in Jace’s room and I really need it to do an assignment, could you let me in?”

“I don’t know….” Luke answered slowly. “Jace should be back soon though. Maybe you can just wait until he gets back? And then you guys could talk?”

Bless him.

You bit on your lip, running your hand through your hair, exasperated. “Listen Luke, I really appreciate you trying to look out for Jace, but I really can’t see him right now.”

Luke exhaled, shifting on his feet like he was undecided. The longer it took for him to decide, the higher chances were you’d run into Jace on your way out.

“Please, Luke, I just need to grab my bag really quickly. He won’t even notice I was there.”

With a loud sigh, Luke finally nodded, opening the door wider and taking a step back.

“He’s gonna be back soon, you need to hurry up.”

“Thanks Luke!”

You hushed past him into the house, walking the familiar way up the stairs to Jace’s bedroom, shutting the door behind you. With a small sigh, you looked around, trying to discern your stuff from his. It was harder than you had first anticipated, your belongings strewn all over the room. Picking your favorite scrunchie off of his nightstand next to a picture of the two of you during New Year’s Eve, you put your hair up as you narrowed your eyes, feeling relief settle in your chest when you saw your backpack lean against the desk.

“Thank God”, you muttered, grabbing it quickly. Just as you headed to the door, hand on the door knob, you could hear voices down the hallway through the closed door. You cursed, recognizing it as Jace and Cregan.

Fuck.

Immediately, you let go of the door knob, taking a few steps back, trying to come up with a way you wouldn’t be caught standing in the middle of Jace’s bedroom. Did you have enough time to make the climb out of the window and scale down the roof?

“- it’ll blow over. I’ll give her some time to calm down and-”

Before you could make a decision, the door swung open, and Jace entered. He was looking back at Cregan, who raised his brows when he saw you in the middle of the room.

“Wha-?” Jace turned his head, his mouth dropping open. “… Hey.”

“Hey.”

Cregan glanced between the two of you, narrowing his eyes. Meanwhile, Jace was rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” you answered - LAME! - lifting your backpack.

Jace nodded slowly. “Was there anything you wanted to say?”

You frowned at him, confused.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Jace said, shrugging with his shoulders. “I thought you were here to apologize.”

Cregan groaned, leaning his forehead against the door frame as you felt all the anger from before welling up again.

“Me apologize?” You repeated, your voice shrill. “What about you? I bet Laura’s thrilled to hear we broke up.”

“You just ended things for no reason! Laura’s not even into me!” Jace snapped and Cregan pushed himself off of the door frame.

“Maybe we all should just calm down.”

“Shut up, Cregan!” You and Jace yelled at the same time, your anger very briefly directed at Jace’s best friend.

Cregan flinched, raising his hands defensively. “Jesus, sorry. I’ll never try to help again,” he muttered. “Let me give you two a minute.”

He stepped out of the room but you held your hands up, stopping him with a scoff.

“No, I’m done here,” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. With one last angry look at Jace, you pushed between them, running out of the house, smoke coming out of your ears.

You spent the rest of the week distracting yourself. Burying yourself in assignments and reading, eating ice cream - there was a deal at Whole Foods, five for three, your freezer was full - and you only cried once.

“Hey, I’m worried about you.”

You glanced up from your laptop screen to see Rhaena standing in your doorway, her arms crossed.

“Why?”

She gave you a look, before her eyes roamed your room: your textbooks stacked half-hazardly on your desk, two empty ice cream tubs, another half melted one on your nightstand, an empty tissue box on the floor and you on your bed, wrapped in your blanket like a burrito. You sighed, letting the blankets fall from your shoulders.

“I’m fine, Rhae.”

“Hey, did you convince her to come?” Baela skidded to a halt next to Rhaena, looking from her sister to you. Rhaena only sighed while you narrowed your eyes at Baela’s get up. She was wearing black leather pants and a brown corset; she looked like she was going out.

“Come where?”

“Alpha Draconis’ summer term opening party.”

Right that. The party you had helped Jace plan. Before you broke up.

“I don’t know guys,” you sighed, leaning back against your headboard. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Rhaena assured you but Baela shushed her, shaking her head.

“No, you absolutely have to go,” she insisted. “We’ve let you wallow in your misery long enough. It’s time to put your big girl pants on and face Jace. You broke up with him for a shitty reason and yes, he was being a jerk, but you were being a bitch. Now suck it up and get your man back.”

You gaped at her, and Rhaena whacked Baela in the arm, but she only shrugged, ever the unapologetic brutally honest one.

“What? You know I’m right,” Baela only said, frowning at her twin before she turned to you. “So?”

With a groan, you closed your eyes. You knew Baela was right, in a way, and it was no use sitting around when your friends were going out. You had to see him eventually.

“Fine,” you gave in, pushing the blanket back as Baela cheered, immediately disappearing. Rhaena only shook her head, stepping into your bedroom, helping you clean up a little.

“I’m driving,” she told you. “Just tell me if you want to leave, okay?”

You nodded, giving Rhaena a grin when something soft just hit you in the face with no warning, courtesy of Baela having returned to your bedroom.

“Put that on.”

The projectile fell to floor, and as you picked it up, you recognized it as a dark red dress, tags still on.

“Hel’s headed to the party from work, so we’ll meet her there in an hour, go take a shower and I’ll do your hair,” Baela said, reaching for your hand to pull you up. “Come on, up up up!”

Begrudgingly, you let Baela usher you into the shower, shutting the door behind you very decidedly. You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyes rimmed red and hair a mess and you allowed yourself a minute of respite before you turned the shower on. If you had to go to that stupid party, you’d make sure to look the absolute best.

“Am I crazy or is it even more crowded than last term?”

You winced as you followed Baela and Rhaena through an especially crowded spot in the house, glancing around.

“No, it’s definitely more people,” Baela agreed, squeezing your hand to make sure not to lose you in the mass. “Has Helaena said where she is?”

“She said she was in backyards,” Rhaena replied and Baela steered you in the direction of the backyard. Meanwhile you tried not to let your eyes roam too much; you didn’t want to seem like you were looking for Jace, even though that was exactly what you were doing. Just as you reached the patio doors, Helaena appeared, stopping you in the doorway.

“Hey guys,” she said, breathless, her eyes flitting over to you as you greeted her. “Should we go get drinks?”

“I’m not dragging my ass back through that crowd,” you moaned, shaking your head. “Let’s just sit down by the pool for a second before we go back in.”

You nudged Helaena out of the way gently, but the blonde grabbed your arm, trying to pull you back.

“But I’m really thirsty.”

“Hel, come on,” you laughed. “You’ll survive ten more minutes without-”

The rest of your words died on your tongue when you caught sight of Jace sitting by the pool, surrounded by his frat brothers and of course, Laura. Now you knew why Helaena was so adamant to get you away from the backyard. It was too loud to hear what Jace was saying, but he must be telling an extremely funny story with the way Laura was laughing, touching his shoulder. They weren’t doing anything scandalous, but it still hurt you to see him still talking to her after you voiced your concerns. You tried not to let it get to you. It wasn’t your business anymore anyways, but you were still a little sick to the stomach.

With a scoff, you turned away, embarrassment burning your cheeks as your friends looked at you with pitiful eyes.

“Sorry,” Rhaena said and you only shrugged with your shoulders.

“Whatever,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “I told you, she was into him. Now he’s free to do as he pleases.”

Baela winced. “We can leave, if you want.”

“No, I’m not leaving because of that clown.”

The girls let out a laugh and Helaena wrapped her arm around you. You gave her a wry smile, leaning into her.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

As Helaena dragged you away, you couldn’t help but glance back to Jace and for a split second, your eyes met. You quickly turned away, feeling a lump form in your throat. You couldn’t wait to get drinks. After getting to the kitchen, the four of you did two rounds of shots, knowing where the boys kept their expensive booze; Rhaena then mixed you some drinks before you settled on the couch in the living room. Taking a careful sip of your cup, you immediately pulled a face, looking at Rhaena.

“What the hell is in this?”

“I think Grey Goose and Coke.”

“You think?” you asked, wincing when you took another sip. “This is awful Rhae.”

“What is awful?”

Aegon, Helaena’s brother, one cousin of many in the Targaryen family, suddenly plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Oh great, Aegon is here,” Baela deadpanned and Aegon only mocked Baela as he reached for your drink.

“Sure, just go ahead and take my drink.”

Aegon took a big gulp of your drink, humming. “It’s not bad,” he said, offering the cup back to you but you politely declined. You didn’t know where Aegon’s mouth had been in the last 24 hours, there was no way you’d drink out of the same cup he had.

“So, what’s this I hear about you and our cousin breaking up?” Aegon asked, throwing his arm around the back of the couch and you scooted forward, trying to escape his touch.

“You heard right,” you said, throwing him a dirty look and Rhaena rolled her eyes.

“You’re a dick, Aeg.”

“What?” Aegon exclaimed. “’t was just a question, no harm done, right?”

You let out a deep sigh, pushing away from the couch.

“I need some air,” you told the girls and Rhaena furrowed her brows, worried.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“We can make Aegon leave,” Baela offered and Aegon made a noise, frowning at his cousin but you shook your head,

“Nah, I’m good. Just, text me if you guys go somewhere, okay?”

“Are you sure, babe?” Helaena asked and you nodded, patting her shoulder gently.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. I promise.”

With a small wave, you disappeared into the crowd, hearing the cousins starting to argue, but it was background noise to you. Instead of heading to the front door, you inconspicuously headed upstairs, past a kissing couple, and to the bathroom on the second floor. The door was shut, but unlocked and unoccupied as you opened the door. You let it fall shut in its hinges after you, walking over to the window, like you had done so many times before, but never alone. Clicking the window open, you carefully climbed out to the roof, sliding the window closed behind you again. You traipsed over the roof, before settling down on the small nook that sat right above Benjicot’s bedroom, stretching out your legs.

Jace had shown you this place when you first started dating, and sometimes when the parties got too much, the two of you snuck out here to be alone. It was probably risky to go here; but it was the only place you felt like you could retreat without having to go home.

The noise of the party downstairs could still be heard, especially the conversations in the backyard, but to you, it seemed quieter as you closed your eyes. It had cooled down significantly since you had come to the party, but you enjoyed the bite of the cold on your bare arms. A deep breath escaped your lips, your chest heavy.

Looking back on it, you knew what you had said was wrong. It was words hurled in the heat of the moment, chosen to provoke a reaction out of Jace and if you could take them back, you would. But now it was too late, it had seemed like Laura had already sunken her talons into Jace as soon as he was available - not that she had cared much about whether he had a girlfriend or not - and he seemed to be lapping it up.

“Stupid,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the tear that escaped your eye from your cheek with the back of your hand. You froze, when you heard the bathroom window slide open; not daring to look back. His steps were careful as he walked towards you, as if not to spook you, but before he came into view, a soft jacket was draped over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, tugging the jacket tighter around your body when Jace sat down next to you.

The silence between you stretched on, before Jace cleared his throat.

“You were right.”

You let out a small scoff at his words, glancing over to him.

“You’re shitting me, right?” you asked in disbelief. “She was all over you like that and you still thought she wasn’t into you?”

Jace winced, ducking his head.

“That’s fair. Maybe I was a little oblivious. It’s just…” he paused, sighing. “I didn’t see it, because I don’t really see other girls. Ever since we met, it’s just been you. I didn’t even realize that she was flirting with me until she straight up asked me if we could go upstairs.”

Jealousy flared up in your chest at his words, and you frowned, quickly giving him a once over.

“Well, did you?” you asked, your voice tight. Jace gave you a look, his hands dropping down on his lap.

“I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”

Relief flooded your veins and you ducked your head to hide your face. Jace glanced over at you, his face vulnerable and you bit your lip.

“I’m sorry too,” you then said. “I didn’t mean what I said. It was petty and stupid, and I’m sorry.”

“Well looks like we both got to work on some things,” Jace said, tentatively reaching out to take your hand; out of reflex you immediately laced your hand with his. He quirked a smile at you, scooting closer to you and you glanced up at him, almost shyly before you leaned in, as he met you halfway, your lips touching. Jace wrapped his hand around the back of your neck as you kissed, and if you hadn’t felt warm before, you definitely did now.

“What’s happening?”

“They’re kissing!”

“No way! Move over!”

“You move over!”

A crash sounded and you pulled away from Jace, just to see Luke and his cousins spying on you from the bathroom.

“Nothing to see here, carry on!” Luke yelled, quickly sliding the window back down, but their bickering could be heard through the closed window.

Jace snorted out a laugh, leaning his forehead against yours and you only grinned lazily at him.

“Come on, let’s go face the circus before they break the window and we have to scale down the roof,” Jace said, offering you his hand as he got up. You let him help you up, as the two of you walked back to the bathroom window.

“You know I thought about scaling down the roof when you caught me in your bedroom?”

“You’re joking.”

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author’s note: tell me what you think <3 also will add the taglist tomorrow bc i’m so tired but wanted to post🫶🏼

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 17

masterlist

"i’m alisa. i was kuroo’s partner for his project."

you freeze. this is her. the girl from the date. your heart sinks as you picture them together, imagining all the worst possibilities.

did he leave his phone? why was she the one who picked up the call? is he still there? your mind begins to spiral, creating scenarios you can't control, each more painful than the last.

"oh," you manage to say, struggling to keep your voice steady. your throat feels tight, and your words come out slower than usual. "can i ask for kuroo?"

"uh, actually, kuroo left his phone here with me," she replies, "it’s a good thing you called - i couldn't open his phone on my own because it's password protected. i was thinking how to get it back to him. im at my place right now."

her place. your thoughts race, filling in the blanks with every worst-case scenario.

what does this mean? what the hell is happening? and what happened before this? and how could kuroo possibly accidentally leave his phone with her? the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to breathe.

"i can let his friends know," you force out, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. "they can come get it from you."

alisa agrees without hesitation, without ending the call, you quickly message the others, your fingers trembling slightly as you type.

after alisa says yes to the arrangement, you both settle to the conclusion that she'll call you back when she's arrived at the campus lobby where bo would be meeting her.

you sit in silence after the call ends, staring at your phone, thoughts swirling in your head. the quiet of your room seems louder now, every second stretching longer than it should.

where is kuroo right now? since she picked up the call at her place, was kuroo there before he left his phone? if they did, what did they do? does this mean he was that interested in her?

you try to shake off the uneasy thoughts, but they linger. you tell yourself not to jump to conclusions, but that’s easier said than done. your mind can’t help but imagine things of what might’ve happened after their date. it’s a battle between rationality and your emotions, and right now, the latter is winning.

then, your phone vibrates, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. kuroo's name appear on the caller id, and you assume it's alisa calling back, just as she promised.

“hello?” you answer, your voice a bit shaky but still composed.

“hey, i’m in the campus lobby,” alisa says. “bokuto isn’t here yet, but i’m sure he’ll be along soon.”

“thanks for letting me know.”

the silence stretches for a moment. it feels awkward, hanging between the two of you, and you can’t help but feel like you should say something - anything - to fill the void.

you fidget with your fingers, unsure of what to talk about. after all, you barely know this girl, and under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.

alisa breaks the silence first. “so... are you and kuroo close?”

her question catches you off guard. “uh, yeah, i guess you could say that. we’ve known each other for a while.”

“that’s nice!" alisa replies, her tone friendly. “he’s been super focused on this project. it’s kept him really busy, huh?”

you nod again, though the weight of her words makes your chest feel tight. “yeah, he’s been juggling a lot.”

the conversation stalls again, leaving you with your thoughts. you’ve known kuroo’s been busy, but hearing it from her, someone who's been spending that time with him, feels like a punch in the gut. you hesitate before asking, “where is he, by the way?”

“oh, he didn’t say,” alisa responds casually. “he just told me he had to go and left. i noticed his phone when he was gone already, and i was going to chase after him but it was too late...”

you thought nothing suspicious about her answer, but nothing that assured you that nothing happened between them. the quiet between you both stretches again, heavy and uncomfortable, and you find yourself scrambling for something else - anything - to fill the silence.

“how’s the project been for you guys?” you ask, trying to make small talk.

“oh, it went really well!” she says brightly. “we worked hard, but it all paid off. i think kuroo was really happy with how it turned out.”

you try to smile at her words, but your curiosity is eating away at you. you feel the urge to ask more, even though a part of you is scared of what the answers might be.

your thoughts drift back to earlier, to the idea of them spending time together after their date, and your stomach knots with unease. but you have to know, even if the answer hurts.

desperate to distract yourself from the silence and your spiraling thoughts, you finally blurt out, “so... did you guys have a good time?”

it feels like a casual question, but the weight behind it is unmistakable to you.

alisa chuckles softly, "oh, it was nice. he’s really sweet, isn’t he?"

you force a smile, even though she can’t see it. the words feel like a punch to the gut, as if someone else is confirming how amazing kuroo is. "yeah, he is."

there’s a brief pause, and the silence returns uncomfortably. your mind is racing as you struggle to keep the conversation going.

"i’m glad you were with him while he was so busy. as i said earlier, he seems to take on a lot by himself." you say, trying to fill the void, but the words come out weaker than you intended.

"he really does," alisa agrees, her voice light, as if she’s completely unaware of the storm raging inside you. "we ended up spending a lot of time together because of it. it’s been fun. and he really knows how to make you feel at ease, doesn’t he?"

the words twist in your gut, and you have to bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound of distress. you know exactly what she means. you’ve felt it too; the way kuroo can make you feel seen and heard.

and now, to hear someone else describe it, to know that she experienced it too, feels like a betrayal, even though you know it’s not.

"yeah," you manage to say. "he’s always been good at that."

the conversation drags on, each passing moment feeling like a slow unraveling of everything you thought you knew. your heart sinks deeper, weighed down by the uncertainty, the fear that maybe you’re too late. the realization that someone else has shared in those moments with him, that she knows things about him you might never know, is almost too much to bear.

"i’m happy you guys enjoyed your date," you say, trying to sound normal, but there’s a slight tremor in your voice.

alisa laughs again, this time with more amusement. "he told you it was a date too, huh?"

you blink, caught off guard by her response. "wasn’t it?"

"no, not really," alisa explains, her tone light as if it’s no big deal. "i just asked him out to coffee because of the success of our project, nothing more. he thought it was a date until he thanked me and mentioned it. so i cleared things up."

you don’t know what to say, the relief washing over you in waves, but mingling with confusion. before you can ask what happened after, alisa interrupts.

"oh, bokuto’s here," she says, her tone signaling the end of the conversation. "i’ll give him the phone. thanks a lot,"

"okay," you reply, still dazed, your mind racing with all the things you didn’t get to say or ask. bo takes the phone and tells you everything’s good, but his words barely register. you nod, barely listening, too caught up in your own thoughts.

you’re left with a thousand questions, but no answers. you want to know more, to ask her what happened next, but you guess you won’t get to know anymore.

did they talk about you? was kuroo relieved when she clarified it wasn’t a date, or was he disappointed? the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you with nothing but doubts.

all of a sudden, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. your heart jumps into your throat. you hesitate, then get up to answer it. you bid bo goodbye on the other line and end the call as you approach closer.

maybe it was one of your roommates checking up on your or asking for an update about what has happened. you wondered who it might be as you opened the door.

and there he was.

kuroo, breathless and panting, his hair slightly disheveled as if he ran the whole way. his eyes lock onto yours, wide with urgency.

"kuroo," you begin, confused. "what are you doing-"

"i want you, y/n."

notes

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

next signal will be LOADED also bc we will see kuroo's pov !!

idk if this was a long update or not (than usual) but yeah

i had to edit this a lot of times bc i had to make sure that everything would be laid out well

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin

[spiderbeam]

and okay feel free to ignore this one because ive sent a bunch already buttt 🎧+max+7

🎧 — bugambilia by nasa histoires

Max is nervous. He hadn’t realized it until the bell dinged with his entrance, until you spoke your usual greeting, until your eyes met his and a smile spread over your lips. He’s a three time world champion, an icon of the world of motorsport, a celebrity—and yet he finds himself growing jittery at the sight of you.

Of course you’d be the type to fall for the one person in Europe who doesn’t know your name, Danny had teased.

He’d denied it. He didn’t have feelings for you. He had simply developed a fondness for flowers—and he just happened to like yours most.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon.” You dust your hands on your overalls as you stand up to greet him. You look pretty in overalls, he finds. Prettier even with your hair held up by a bow—alongside that lovely smile that always makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. “Thought you said you were leaving the country for work.”

Max realizes then he’s stayed quiet for too long. “Um, yeah,” he starts awkwardly, hands tucked in his pockets before he takes them out soon after. What do people usually do with their hands? “I did. It was just for the weekend, though.”

“Did you have fun?” you ask, before meeting his gaze with a playful roll of your eyes. “I know, work is work, but…”

“It was fine,” Max clicks his tongue, hoping he doesn’t sound too dismissive. “Not great.”

“Sorry to hear that.” You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can rant a little while I trim these?” You gesture at the newly arrived flowers.

Max chuckles a little. He’s done plenty of ranting. Mostly in front of a camera. “Actually, I was hoping to get to hear you talk about your flowers—maybe give me a hand?”

You straighten as you stand up, nodding. “What’s today’s purchase gonna be?”

“Another gift,” he says, even though he’s ran out of friends to gift bouquets to. Twice is two times too many before they start looking at him weird.

You nod your head, ponytail bobbing. “Alright.” You clasp your hands together, smiling up at him. “Wanna look around for something that catches your eye, or are you in search for anything in particular?”

Max tilts his head at you. “Which are your favorites this week?” He asked you the same question last time, and the time before that. But, as you told him before, you can’t make up your mind—not permanently, anyway. Each time he comes around, you have a different answer prepared for him.

This time, you’re grinning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” And then your hand is in his as you steer him towards the very back of the shop—and Max can feel his breath stuttering. He blinks in rapid succession, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. Jesus Christ, you’re just holding her hand. Pull yourself together.

Finally, you stop beside a shelf with purple and fuchsia flowers with papery petals and tiny light yellow blossoms inside them. Max feels as you let go of him, prompting him to step closer to the flowers. He leans forward, hoping to catch some floral scent like the lilies and jasmines you gave him a few weeks back. He doesn’t smell anything.

“They don’t have a scent,” you tell him. “It’s bugambilia. Bougainvillea. It’s not usually used for bouquets, though, so people rarely buy any. Except for this one woman, Marisol—she says it reminds her of home. But she only takes a few branches, doesn’t really want them as a bouquet.” You’re smiling when he turns back to you. “They don’t grow around here—not naturally, anyway. It’s why I like them.”

“Bougainvillea,” Max repeats, committing the syllables to memory. “So you’ve never had to sell a bouquet of these?”

“Not yet.” You shrug. “It’s under appreciated, in my opinion. I mean—most people just buy roses. Maybe sunflowers.”

He remembers you ranting about that last week. How impersonal is it to give red roses to someone on a date? It’s like giving a gift card. No sentiment whatsoever.

And Max, surprisingly enough, agreed. He believes in personal gestures. Gifts that proof you’ve been listening, that you’ve been paying attention. And as he side-glances at you, he can see your stare still lingering on the purple and pink flowers. He doesn’t need to think it over before he’s saying: “I’ll take it.”

You nod in approval, reaching up to take a few flowers. “I knew you would,” you say proudly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’ve got good taste, Max.”

Max chuckles. “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “I just happen to know someone who does.” He’s looking at you as he says it, scratching his cheek, but he can see your lovely smile falter slightly. His brows pinch together.

You haul your selected bougainvillea onto the counter, with Max trailing close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who buys as many flowers as you do—not that I’m complaining.” You try to sneak a glance at him as you’re tying off his bouquet. Max relishes in the heat that crawls up your cheeks when he catches you.

This is his chance, he realizes. But then he’s running circles again because what if you think he’s creepy? That he’s been buying flowers from you in hopes of finally building up the courage to ask you out? It’s not only creepy, it’s pathetic. It’s been nearly a month since he first met you. It’s taken him a whole month to get to this. Stupid. And since when does he get nervous like this around girls? He’s Max Verstappen.

But you’re you.

“You okay?” you ask, peering at him. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”

“Yeah, sorry. Um, I just—” He means to ask you, he really does, but this one tiny detail doesn’t escape his attention as you leave the flowers on the counter, wrapped in pretty ribbons, ready for him to take home. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “I—I haven’t paid yet.”

Your expression sends butterflies fluttering around his stomach. “Consider it a gift. For keeping me company on a slow day.”

But Max is already pulling out his wallet out of his back pocket. “No, no, I can pay.”

“Max,” you say, voice caught somewhere between soft and stern. “It’s a gift. You don’t pay for gifts.”

He scratches his cheek again, a quirk of his you’ve come to find endearing. “Doesn’t this get taken out of your paycheck?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “No one buys bougainvillea. One of my coworkers would’ve probably ended up throwing them away.”

You’re dodging his question, and Max doesn’t know how to tell you that he can afford it without making it seem like he doesn’t appreciate the gesture.

You seem to decide for him when you grab the bouquet and hand it to him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles, shooting sparks beneath his skin. He should ask you now. You’re smiling like you don’t even know the effect you have on him.

“Your—”

“Would you—” Max clears his throat, pink on his cheeks. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t sound as genuine. “Nothing—just that your girlfriend’s really lucky. I’d kill to have someone buy me as many flowers every week.”

“My—what?” Max blinks once. Twice. Three times before the words finally dislodge from his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, your boyfriend?” you amend, playing with your fingers.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Max says bluntly. He’s still cradling his bougainvilleas as he watches realization wash over your face.

“Oh.” Heat is climbing up your cheeks, and for the first time all afternoon, you’re the one stumbling over your words. “O-Oh. I just thought that—I mean, since you’ve been coming around so much, and you’re like, handsome, and sweet, so I just assumed—”

“Do you wanna go out some time?” Max interrupts, ears tinted red. There’s a pretty blush spreading his face. A giddy nervousness building up in his gut. “With me, I mean. Do you want to go out with me?”

Your lips curl upward, heat radiating from your face. Max feels flowers growing in his chest. Hydrangeas, carnations, tulips, wisteria. Purple bougainvillea flowers.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

eve’s 1k celebration 🎧

this one was very loosely based on the song more on the vibes than the actual lyrics so i might revisit this song and make another more angstier drabble in the future….. for now i just recommend giving the song a listen <3 also i’m not used to writing for max AT ALL so hopefully it didn’t feel too ooc

[sarahreesbrennan]

Quick Evil Note

To all my wicked darlings, I have now received rather a lot of messages asking me about the influences of Long Live Evil. And I wish to get messages about LLE and truly appreciate the ones I do get! And I wish to answer them. But answers about influences are tricky.

The book has been out in the US for a little over two weeks, and it’s going so well so far, I couldn’t be more delighted and appreciative about its reception.

But also I’ve been informed (not asked) that two of my characters are obviously somehow both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy of Harry Potter, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. (Very puzzling as I don’t think these pairings - and one isn’t a pair - have much in common with each other or with mine. Vague hostility against a vaguely academic backdrop for a bit? For the record… in the book everyone is an adult and I don’t even have any academic backdrops to be vaguely hostile in front of…) This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, because I haven’t had an original novel out in a long time due to illness, and it is upsetting to always be discussed differently than writers who didn’t openly link their real names to their fan identity.

I have very different feelings and new appreciation for fandom than I once had. It’s been amazing to see and meet people who have stuck with me for decades. People are generally way more open and affectionate to and within fandom than they once were. Love matters to me a good deal more than hate. But getting death threats in your early 20s for excitedly telling your Internet friends you were going to publish a book does mark the psyche, and so does having your characters dismissed as other people’s characters.

And we can say there is nothing wrong with fanfiction or writing fanfiction and there isn’t! Fanfiction is great and can be genius. Terry Pratchett wrote Jane Austen fanfiction, and didn’t (and shouldn’t) have people saying Captain Wentworth = Captain Vimes. Still, when a TV show is discussed as ‘like fanfiction’ or when Diana Gabaldon said she didn’t like fanfiction and many said ‘YOU write fanfiction’ it isn’t intended in any kind spirit, even when it’s fannish folk saying it. And it’s just generally odd to have everyone call your apple a tomato, and has had professional consequences for me in the past.

However! All the asks I’ve received have been very kind, and I do want to answer them. I do want to talk about my influences because they are manifold and because I actually think it’s important to always talk about influences. I don’t believe stories exist in isolation - we tell tales in a rich tradition, and also a story doesn’t come alive to me all the way until it’s heard or read.

Long Live Evil is a love letter to fandom: it’s chock full of references to many many stories I’ve loved, to fairytales, myths and legend and Internet memes and epic fantasy and meta. My acknowledgements are endless partly for this reason. I do owe a great debt to many portal fantasies and archetypes and musicals and jokes about genre and plays through the ages, though I do think of my characters as themselves and nobody else.

I was frankly tempted to go ‘Yes I stole EVERYTHING! Bwhahaha!’ But while I am thoroughly enjoying and finding great freedom in my villain era, I do want to talk sincerely to you all as well, especially when asked sincerely interested questions.

But I’m a little scared to do so and have people say ‘AHA! Now we know what it’s fanfiction of’ (it’s happened before) or ignore me and go ‘we know the truth!’ (it’s happened before) and to feel like I’ve injured my book. Long Live Evil means more to me than any other and I really want to get talking about it right, and make sure it has the best reception I can give it.

So. Questions on all Evil topics very very welcome but answers to influence questions may come slowly. Bear with me. I am working on this!

[jasontoddproblems]

Pinstripes (1)

[Jason Todd x Reader]

Word Count: 2906

Summary: You take the leap and decide to introduce Jason to your new boyfriend.

A/N: No one has ever been more normal than Jason Todd. He's fine. He's totally fine. Stop looking at him.

Your apartment was still a chaotic whirlwind when Jason arrived, several dresses draped over the back of the couch, your usual purse contents emptied out on the coffee table next to an assortment of tiny, fashionable clutches. You barely took the time to open the door before fleeing back to your bedroom, your chosen dress for the evening technically on but still unzipped. 

“Hello to you too,” Jason called, trailing after you with much slower steps. 

“Hi, hello, how are ya?” you mumbled, shoving various makeup products back into a small floral bag. 

“I’m fine. You don’t seem to be, though. Wanna talk about it?” He dropped down on the edge of your bed, unbuttoning his suit jacket in the process. 

That seemed to catch your attention, and you spun quickly to face him.

“Yes. Tonight’s a big deal. You know that, right?”

Jason raised a brow.

“It’s just another Wayne Foundation gala. You’ve been to dozens of them. You’ve planned dozens of them. It’s your job, and you’re damn good at it.”

Despite the kind words, your lips fell into a frown.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He did know it, unfortunately. Because what you actually meant is that you were introducing your fancy new boyfriend to Jason tonight. Your New York new money, Gotham transplant, up and comer in the Gotham DA’s office with irritatingly private social media accounts boyfriend. 

“What are you so worried about? Help me understand,” he said patiently, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach that felt suspiciously like dread. It had no right to be dread. Jason wasn’t scared of shit. Certainly not a 30-year-old man with an overly-gelled comb over. 

“I haven’t ever introduced anyone to you before,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I feel… weird about it.” 

“This was your idea. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll just drop you off and go home. You can tell him I’m sick or something.” 

Because honestly, Jason wasn’t looking forward to this either. You were right. You’d never introduced anyone to him in the almost ten years you’d been friends. You’d dated here and there, but never anything serious enough that you bothered with… all this. And Jason didn’t love the fact that you were bothering with it now.

“No, no. I need to stop putting it off. It’s important,” you said, sitting beside him. “I’m just… nervous.”

“I can see that,” he whispered, gesturing around at the disaster zone that was your room and earning an elbow to the ribs in the process.

“Just be nice,” you pleaded, moving to stand in front of him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. 

“I will.”

“Jason.”

“I will!” he repeated with a laugh.

You still didn’t look convinced, eyes slightly narrowed and a cute little pout on your lips. 

“I’m serious. Please. I know how you can get.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” 

“You can be a little… quick to judge.” You hurried to continue when you recognized the flash of hurt in his eyes. “Not me! And not even most people. But like… when you see someone doing something you don’t approve of, you kind of…. Have a hard time letting that go sometimes.” 

“Because you let it go too quickly,” Jason said, brief memories of your past relationships passing through his head like a very convincing powerpoint. “I balance you out.” 

There was the one who stood you up and didn’t call you until the next day to apologize, rattling off excuses that all could have been easily communicated while they were happening. Jason had refused to call him anything other than Ghost Boy for the remainder of your relationship.

Then there was the one who documented his every movement on social media to an alarming degree, always taking pictures when the two of you were together and posting them with cringey, coy captions that had made Jason roll his eyes so hard they hurt a little bit afterwards. He’d named him The Tourist.

And there was no forgetting Small Dick Energy 1, 2, 3, and 4 who had all had huge issues with your best friend being a man in general, and Jason Todd of the Wayne family specifically. You hadn’t seemed aware of the actual problem, just the symptoms: showing off, being obnoxiously vocal about your relationship when you preferred privacy, a dozen different instances of insecurity, becoming possessive and clingy especially when you wanted to make plans with your best friend. It had been very clear to Jason that he was the problem. And he found he didn’t particularly mind it. You deserved better anyway.

“Meet me in the middle,” you requested, squeezing his shoulders to regain his attention. “And I’ll try to meet you in the middle too.” 

“I can try…” Jason said slowly, smiling despite himself when you patted his cheek in approval.

“That’s all I ask. Zip?” 

You turned, standing perfectly still while Jason zipped up your dress, taking the extra time to fasten the tiny hook and eye clasp at the top for good measure. 

“All set.” 

“You’re the best,” you said easily as you moved back toward your vanity, sorting through your various tubes of lipstick.

“I know. It’s a curse.” 

You snorted but didn’t argue, turning once again to present him with four different shades of lipstick. 

“Which one?”

“What color are your shoes?”

“Black.” 

Jason tapped the deep burgundy.

“Ooo. Going bold tonight,” you commented, tossing the others back in your makeup bag.

“You don’t have to,” Jason said with a shrug, but you were already leaning into the mirror, carefully smoothing the rich color over your lips.

“No, I like it.” 

Things moved more quickly after that. You made Jason pick out your purse while you put on your shoes, and he chased you to the front door with a bottle of perfume Bruce had bought you last Christmas.

The ride was quiet. Jason had opted for the Wayne’s favorite car service tonight, since you were attending a public event. It always made you a little uncomfortable, carrying on a conversation as if there wasn’t a third person in the car. You texted each other instead. 

Jason didn’t protest when you directed the driver to the service entrance of tonight’s ritzy hotel venue. Even though you were technically a guest tonight, you’d earned enough favor with the staff of every fine event venue in the city to get special treatment. Including a way in that avoided the paparazzi stationed out front. 

“Can’t believe you sprayed me with that stuff,” you groaned as you led Jason down a service hallway, plucking at your dress with dissatisfaction. It was nicer than what you usually wore when working these events, but not by much. Still unadventurous in color and cut, designed to help you blend in. 

Jason caught your hand, gave it a comforting squeeze before releasing it.

“Do you not like it?” he asked, eyes wide with artificial innocence that made you scoff. 

“I smell like an old rich lady,” you complained. 

“Gonna break Bruce’s heart, talking like that. I’m pretty sure he actually picked that out himself.”

“Well we’re not going to tell him, are we?” 

He caught your hand again, intercepting it before you could fuss with your hair. 

“Will you stop? You look amazing. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, pausing before the door that would let you into the hotel ballroom and brushing your hands over your dress again.

“Easy for you to say.” 

Jason frowned.

“Hey,” he said softly, guiding your chin up until you were meeting his gaze. “Tell me how to make this easier for you.”

That alone seemed to do something, tension beginning to ease from your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Just…”

“Be nice. I know.” He offered you his arm with an encouraging smile. 

“I mean it.” 

“I’ll be so nice he’ll fall in love with me, and you’ll regret ever introducing us.”

“Well, I believe the second part of that statement,” you laughed as he led you through the door and into the ballroom. By the look of things, about half of the invitees had arrived, small groups of business magnates, socialites, and philanthropists forming along the edges of the room to network and gossip and generally be seen together. 

“Rude,” Jason said drily, smiling when you pinched his bicep in retaliation. “Alright, where is this guy?”

“Umm…” You stretched up to your tallest, peering around at the near-identical suits around the room. “Right over there!”

He followed the direction of your gaze to 

“Is he wearing pinstripes?” 

“Jason.”

“I’m not being mean! I’m asking a question.” 

“Fine. Yes, he’s wearing pinstripes,” you said, flashing a bright smile as the man in question met your eyes and started making his way towards you.

“To a charity gala?” 

“I told you he was coming straight from work.”

“You did. Except the lines of that suit are too sharp for him to have been wearing it all day. Which means he changed into a pinstripe suit. For a charity gala.”

“Stop using your weird observation powers to be a bitch.” 

“You love when I - ”

“Well not right now I don’t. Cut it out.”

“Does he think he’s on Wall Street? Or a Law and Order rerun?”

“Jason.” A fierce whisper, accompanied by a sharp elbow to the ribs announced the arrival of your boyfriend, and Jason let out a sigh of defeat. 

“There you are!” 

The voice was, irritatingly, pleasant. A voice fit for radio. Or campaign videos. 

His greeting was smooth, polite, moving you from Jason’s arm to his own with subtlety and a kiss to your cheek. 

“You smell nice. New perfume?”

Jason bit down hard on his lip to contain a laugh, flashing innocent eyes at you as you glared at him over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Did you send my staff into a panic by turning up early?” you asked.

“Early is on time,” he replied, with the intonation of a phrase often repeated. “On time is late.” 

“I don’t think that rule applies to parties,” you laughed. 

“Definitely doesn’t apply to Wayne parties, anyway,” Jason added, snagging a champagne flute from a passing waiter and handing it to you. 

“Oh, thank you! I suppose now’s the time for introductions...”

“You must be Jason,” the other man said, holding out his hand. “Sorry, is it Todd or Wayne? I’ve seen it both ways in the paper.”

“Todd,” he said firmly, reaching to accept the offered handshake with a bit more strength than was strictly necessary. “Unless I need a last minute dinner reservation. Or I want to meet a famous person.” 

He knew how to play this game. Kind of. He’d seen Bruce and Dick play it often enough, anyway.

“Good for you,” the other man said with a polite laugh. “Making use of your connections. I’m William Woodley.”

“Middle name?”

William tilted his head curiously, but appeared unfazed.

“Samuel.”

Jason clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Was hoping for another W.”

Take that, asshole. 

William gave another news anchor-esque laugh.

You looked faintly confused. 

“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you. Good to finally meet you in person.”

“You’ve got the advantage then. I only started hearing about you last week.”

Your sharp gaze bit into the side of his face, and he was sure if there was a subtle way to do it, you would have stomped on his foot for good measure. And he deserved it. That was too clumsy of an insult to land properly. 

“I can’t blame her,” William said, turning his full attention on you until your eyes softened again. “I’ve wanted to keep her all to myself too.”

Gag. Damn, he was good at this. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Jason asked, though you’d already told him the story. Twice.

“We - Oh, pardon me. Is that the mayor? Darling, we should go introduce ourselves,” William turned to you, eyes bright with excitement. 

“I’ve met him,” you said patiently. “Several times. And last week, I’m pretty sure his wife called me the help, so I think you stand a better chance at a good impression if you go without me.”

His eyes scanned over you quickly, assessing, smile beginning to slip.

“Oh. I don’t… I don’t have to go. We could find a different group to join.”

“It’s alright! Go ahead.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ll be fine! I still have Jason.”

It was Jason’s turn to be assessed, though more cautiously. 

William gave a noncommittal hum, dropping another kiss to your cheek and whispering something Jason couldn’t hear before heading off towards the growing crowd of sycophants surrounding Gotham’s mayor. 

“Well, that was quick.” 

“Why are you being weird?” you asked, an overly-polite smile on your face as you watched William make his way across the ballroom. 

“I’m not being weird.” 

You gave him a flat look. 

“I’ve never met one of your boyfriends before! I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”

“Like a human person, preferably,” you muttered, taking a long sip of champagne. “Like yourself, would be nice.” 

Jason’s sigh was drowned out by an enthusiastic voice calling out your name. 

“Seriously?” he complained quietly. 

Dick Grayson bounced up on sunshine and smiles (and expensive booze), snatching up your hand and guiding you into a graceful twirl before you could even say hello.

“Good to see you! You look lovely.” He dropped a gallant kiss to the back of your hand. “What did it cost you to get Jason in the building tonight?”

“I asked nicely,” you said, with a fond smile. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Funny, I always ask nicely for things - ”

“You do not,” Jason cut off, rolling his eyes. 

“Never works for me!”

“Well, she’s prettier than you.”

“Rude,” Dick said before turning to wink at you. “But fair. Was that William Woodley from the DA’s office you were just talking to?”

You blinked in surprise. 

“Uh, yes. He - ”

“He’s her boyfriend.”

Something in Dick’s brain seemed to glitch, and his eyelid twitched.

“Interesting! When did that happen?”

“What do you mean interesting?” you asked suspiciously. 

Dick hummed, rolling back his exuberant public persona as he searched for the right answer.

“Is he not a little… serious? For you?” 

“Have you met my best friend?” 

“Jason’s Jason. It’s different,” he said, waving you off.

“What does that mean?” Jason asked, feeling like he should probably be offended. This night was already giving him a headache.

“William’s sweet,” you defended. “And it’s kind of nice to be with someone more serious. He knows what he wants.” 

“Sure…” Dick slipped the champagne flute out of your hand, handing it to Jason. “Think you need that more than she does. You look like you tried to eat a snail. Again. I’m gonna go charm more rich people out of their money. Have fun!”

He turned away after a hard clap on the shoulder, taking only a second to identify his next target before he was off again, shouting out someone else’s name with his arms wide open.

Jason drained the rest of your glass, trading it for a fresh one which he handed to you. 

You took it without looking, your eyes once again fixed on William through the crowd and your perfectly-painted lips tugged into a slight frown. 

That was Jason’s fault, at least partially. And he knew it. 

He took a deep breath.

“You should go ask him to dance,” Jason said, plastering on his most convincing  smile when you glanced at him curiously.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a guest, they just started playing a new song, and you’re supposed to be having fun.” 

You tapped the edge of your champagne flute absently.

“Yeah… but he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities like this. And he doesn’t really like to dance, I don’t think.” 

Jason took your glass back, giving you a little nudge.

“He will if he knows it will make you happy.”

“You’re being sweet,” you said, tone nearly accusatory as you look over your shoulder at him.

“How dare you. Would you get outta here?” 

Your eyes narrowed a little, but you smiled anyway.

And Jason watched you make your way through the assorted guests, watched you come up beside William, your hand gentle on his shoulder. Watched the way his eyes lit up, the bright beaming smile he aimed at you. Tried, really really hard, to think you two looked like a good match. Tried to be happy for you. 

But your own soft smile faded after a few exchanged words, turned into something plastic and polite that clashed with the disappointment he could see in your eyes even from across the room. 

Something tightened in Jason’s chest, and he let out a slow breath. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make you happy. Not anymore.

What he wanted to do was shove everyone out of the way until he could stand right next to you. He wanted to steal you away into an alcove, make rude jokes about the elitist guests until you laughed, until champagne threatened to come out of your nose. He wanted to dance with you. Because he knew it would make you happy. Because your boyfriend wasn’t. 

Because Jason Todd had been your best friend for ten years. And he’d been in love with you for eight. 

*****

A/N: Help, I'm gonna LOSE IT! What do we think, besties? Is this anything? Come chat!

[dukeofdelirium]

never gonna understand the argument that Katara didn’t love Aang or something.

Katara was 100% more physically affectionate toward Aang. She almost always initiated their physical contact.

She also expresses clear jealousy over him as early as ep4 at Kyoshi Island lol. Aang was literally right when he said “you know what I think? I think you don’t wanna come because you’re jealous” 😂 SHE WAS

Katara was hesitant to start a romantic relationship with Aang because of the war, not because she lacked romantic interest in him. I mean, she quite literally says this on screen.

This is another thing that confuses tf out of me. How can anyone actually watch that scene in Ember Island Players and think it translates to “Katara doesn’t like Aang and is gently rejecting him” ?????

Katara 1) denies viewing Aang platonically and 2) straight up says her reasoning for not pursuing a romantic relationship with him after they kissed during the invasion is because the war is still going on and 3) she then continues by saying she is confused about WHEN they can be together if ever.

Both of these characters expected the war to already BE over. That was why Aang kissed her at the invasion, at least partly. Also partly because, yknow, he could’ve died and never gotten the chance. Which also brings up another thing, the argument that she rejected him kissing her then?

This isn’t true. Katara very much did kiss him back. But once it was over, and once he was going to leave her and face what could’ve easily been certain death, she looks upset. Not really difficult to understand why she looks that way, considering Aang did just tell her “what if I don’t come back” right before said kiss. Katara has already witnessed him die right before her eyes. This is a difficult topic in their relationship. And that fear of losing Aang continues to keep her away from their romantic relationship until she finally feels safe to express it at the end of the show.

Aang’s actions are also not difficult to understand at all. He confronted Katara during that play after she sought him out. He never asked her to follow him. And the only reason he confronted her was bc he was feeling 1) super insecure bc of the play’s depiction of everyone in their group and 2) bc he’s about to face the world’s greatest military force and their leader on the anniversary of his entire people and culture’s genocide completely ALONE and could very easily be killed.

Aang shouldn’t have kissed her at the play. No one says he should’ve and he reprimands himself afterwards. With that being said, though, it’s totally understandable as to why he does kiss her, that being that he’s afraid he is going to die again and he wants to express that he loves her before it happens. Also, the fact that Aang wasn’t there for his own people is surely a driving factor in how he expresses love to others afterwards, that being that he feels the need to “be there” so to speak. And “being there” in this moment is showing Katara that he does love her, and the only way he rlly knows how to is to kiss her bc words did not work.

Like… idc if ppl like the writing or not. Acting like it’s some huge mystery or impossible to comprehend is you essentially saying you’re dumber than the 6 year olds that watched ATLA 😭 like how could I at 11 completely understand this whole thing yet these grown ass adult women can’t wrap their minds around it for even a second? Like it’s actually sad lol

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 13

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on the amazing @discoscoob 's concept & bot!

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelve.

Thirteen.

At the crack of dawn Donaka wakes you with open-mouthed kisses on your neck and his cock stuffing you full. He is careful with you, as careful as he can be, taking you with the steady slowness of breaking waves, and if you didn’t know any better, you almost could have mistaken the way he fucked you for lovemaking. 

“My pretty girl,” he whispers in your hair. “Had to have your sweet little pussy again.” Despite the languid pace its not long before he fills you with hot streams of his cum. 

Afterwards, he smacks you on the ass, telling you, “You’re going to be late for work.” 

You are shocked, but at the same time, grateful for the opportunity to get away from him. You cannot think in his company. He gives you no peace. You frown at him, but slip into the shower without a word. As you leave he calls after you, “This is where you sleep now, y/n. Don’t forget it.” 

He relishes the glare you shoot him across the room, smirking at the challenge in your eyes. “Go on, defy me, bunny. See what happens.”

A tiny growl escapes your throat, your voice refusing to cooperate in forming actual words. 

“What was that?”

“Fine,” you grind out between your teeth, before slipping out the door.

When you join the ranks to receive your tasks for the day, Mrs. Yeung, the chief housekeeper, does not give you a second look. Perhaps she knows where her bread is buttered, and passing judgment on Mr. Mark’s new plaything will not serve her. Mei, however, is shooting you playful looks, and you know you will be interrogated later when she gets you alone. 

What the fuck are you going to say? 

You find yourself contemplating the height of the garden walls, wondering how far you might get should you just scale one and make your way down the road, hop a bus, go to the Embassy on the other side of the island. However, you’re sure Donaka is watching through his cameras. The dark little eyes tucked up in the corners of the rooms and outside never seemed so sinister before as they do now. You never really thought about how completely he can surveil his domain from the comfort of his office chair. 

You never cared before, because you were never up to something. 

That is when it dawns on you. You cannot stop yourself from taking a detour back into your room, and you check every corner, nook, and cranny. You find it tucked within an affixed wall decoration. A tiny camera, pointed right at your bed. 

The things he surely watched you do, long before you had any inkling…

It makes you simultaneously hot all over with rage–and you hate to admit, titillation. He really does like to watch.

You would have to remember that. It might prove his only weakness.

You are so fucked. 

Feeling completely overwhelmed, all you want to do is curl up on your bed and have a good, ugly, soul-expunging cry. However, there’s the possibility he’s watching you, and so you put on a brave face, shoving it all down and flipping off the little black eye in the wall before going back to work. 

***

You think you feel a little better, when you’re in the media room later, carefully dusting the screens and cables. All that goes up in smoke when Donaka slips through the door silently, pausing to look upon you like a predator at the treeline evaluating the quickest path to its prey. 

You straighten, meeting his gaze with your heart in your throat. What is he up to now?

With a little smirk he pads on bare feet to the couch, seating himself like a pasha in the center with his arms up on the back. He is…still so beautiful it hurts, and you find you are grinding your teeth as you stand there silently, waiting.

When the silence between you draws on, it’s no surprise that you are the one to break first. 

“Am I in your way?” you ask, glancing back at the wall full of screens. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and he’s here just to watch TV. 

“Not at all,” he answers smugly, still staring you down. 

Ah. Then he’s here for you. Great. 

You sigh, and decide to go back to what you were doing, rather than quiver like a mouse trapped in a cage with a snake. “Don’t you have a company to run or something?” you grouse at him. 

“The key to good management is proper delegation.”

“Wow, that’s a fancy way of saying ‘I have underlings to do my dirty work.’” It’s possible you lace your words with a bit of mockery, and maybe you shouldn’t bait this man…but then again, there is a part of you that wants to bait him. You want him to do something so truly awful, so unforgivable that the confusion in your heart will solidify to stone, and you will no longer be conflicted about this man, and what you want from him. 

However, he simply chuckles at your insouciance, sounding 300 percent the villain that he is. “I doubt you even really know what my company truly does.” 

You blink at that. He runs a security firm. You realize…that really could be a blanket term for so many things. “I guess I just assume you keep an eye on things for rich clients,” you say, waving at all the monitors. “You clearly like to watch.” 

You insinuate that you know he had a camera in your room. You wonder if he watched you nearly break down. You wonder if he cares. 

You can’t help but notice his pale, elegant bare feet–his long toes curl as he smirks at you. Is he enjoying this little bout of verbal sparring? 

“That I do, y/n.” He tilts his head, his gaze sweeping you up and down. “It’s not all we do though at Security System Alliance. Sometimes a situation with our clients requires a physical touch.”

So he has commando operatives at his beck and call as well. Not a huge surprise, considering. You can’t tell if he’s threatening you, or simply making conversation. 

“Interesting. What kind of situations? I hear kidnapping is a big problem with the uber rich these days.” 

His smile widens, and you decide that yes, he is enjoying this game of double-speak. “So it is. Obviously I can’t disclose details, but we did secure the safe return of a billionaire’s son not so long ago.”

“Was there a ransom?”

“They wanted 20 million dollars.”

“Did they get it?” 

“Some of it.” 

You take a step closer, your hands on your hips. 

“Did you orchestrate the kidnapping in the first place?”

Now his smile is like a baring of teeth for you. “Oh, that would be dastardly.”

It’s not a yes…but it’s not a no. 

“You just seem to have experience in such things.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You seemed satisfied with the results earlier.” 

You grip your dusting rag, a fine trembling running down your arms, and you narrowly resist the temptation to throw it at his head. The feminine urge to break things and scream.  “Is this something you’ve done to other women?” you ask quietly. You don’t really expect him to answer you truthfully–but suddenly you need to know.     

“No,” he answers, his tone equally hushed. “My relationships with women are usually more transactional.”

You frown at that. Does he mean prostitutes? Or mistresses who expect to be paid in housing and gifts and an allowance…? You suppose he sort of tried that with you, with the bracelet. It didn’t exactly work in his favor, so he had to resort to other tactics.

You wonder if you’d just given in back then, if he’d already be bored with you now? Is that the key to your freedom? That tremble has made its way to your core now. You feel cold all over, and a little sick.

He sees this change in you, and the smile on his face fades. “Come here,” he orders, holding out his hand. 

“No.” 

“Don’t make me ask twice.” 

You’d thought you were feeling better, but you realize you just managed to push it all down to function. The pain and the fear and the anger wells up inside you with a vengeance, and you do throw the rag at him–then you run, even though deep down you know there isn’t a hope in hell for you to actually escape him. You round the couch and he utterly surprises you when he vaults over the back of it, lithe as a panther. 

When he grabs you up with those long arms you snarl and squirm like a wild little animal and none of it does you a damn bit of good. He crushes you against him, and you can’t help it. You start to cry again against his chest, pushing at him at first, and then simply gripping fistfulls of his nice shirt while you stain it with your tears and snot and probably saliva too.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough of that.” He doesn’t yell at you, sounding more bored than anything. You realize that this is not the fun part of the game for him. Bastard. He picks you up and carries you back to the couch, sitting with you cradled in his lap. 

“I realize this development will take a period of adjustment for you, but I suggest you calm down.”

He says it so clinically, and that wildness rises in you again. A feral need to struggle and fight no matter the cost, your sense of self-preservation flown completely out of the window. “I suggest you eat a bag of dicks,” you snarl, starting to thrash in his arms again. He adjusts his hold on you with his arm pinning you across the chest, and that’s when you really fuck up. 

You bite him, and you get him good, clamping your teeth down on the meaty part of his forearm. He actually cries out, which is satisfying for about 2 seconds before he has you flipped and thrown down on the couch across his lap, pinning your face into the cushions with that big hand spanning the whole back of your head. 

“That hurt,” he snarls, and you wonder what he has in store for you now. Good. You hope it’s something terrible, so you can get on with the business of hating him. This hovering in limbo shit is too much agony. 

“I hope it gets infected.” 

You expect him to yell at you. Curse you. Hurt you. 

You do not expect him to throw back his head and laugh. 

“Oh, my sweet little bunny. You stupid girl.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“You need to learn the art of self-restraint. I’ll be more than happy to teach it to you.” 

You open your mouth to scream, but he pushes you down into the couch cushions, muffling your cries, nearly suffocating you. “You can be quiet, or I can gag you.” 

You go deathly still at that, ceasing to even breathe, the thought is so abhorrent to you. 

“Ah, there’s my good girl.” He strokes the backs of your legs, from the curve of your calf up the soft flesh of your thigh, then higher beneath your skirt, toying with the seam of your panties. It feels horribly wonderful and far too intimate and you can’t sit still in his lap while he touches you like this right after you were just fighting for your life. “Be still,” he warns you. “Or I’ll tie you.” 

There it is again. The threat from before, and you really believe he’d do it now. You force yourself to go still in his lap, the only motion the fine trembling you cannot seem to stop that still plagues your limbs. 

“That’s much better,” he purrs, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties, slowly drawing them down to your knees. When his questing hand slides up your skirt again, palming the curve of your ass he gives an appreciative groan. “I should bite you,” he muses, pinching you alarmingly close to the juncture of your thighs. “Right here, see how you like it.”

Maybe he expects you to squeal or whine, but you just sigh like you’re already tired of this shit, and you wish he’d get it over with. A fresh stream of tears has started falling from your eyes, beading on the leather upholstery. You’ll probably get into trouble for that too. 

“Oh, am I boring you?” he asks, half amused, half annoyed. 

“Yes,” you answer, and that’s when he pushes your skirt up to your waist and spanks your right buttcheek, the perfect snap loud as a crack of lightning in the room. You can’t help but scream then, and he chuckles as he finally gets the reaction he wants. 

“If you’re going to behave like a naughty child, I suppose I’ll discipline you like one.”  

“Gross.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Do I?” 

Smack! 

This time you don’t scream, but you do jump, squirming in his lap. 

“Fuck!” 

Smack! This time on the left cheek, and you bite the inside of your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed, though you stay silent. 

He lets you stew in the burning pain that spreads across your skin, before soothing your flesh with a featherlight touch afterwards that incredibly—inexplicably–makes you throb between your legs. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“I came in here to offer you a treat for good behavior,” he muses almost absently. “But I’m afraid that’s gone completely out the window.”  You can’t help but think he’s trying to make your relationship transactional, like he’d said before. Spread the blame, and the temptation, out between you, rather than rest it completely on his shoulders. 

“I don’t want it,” you grumble into the leather beneath you. 

“Oh, I think you do. You think you’re above the temptations of wealth? No one is. It’s just a matter of finding the things you want, and I’m certain this would have hit the target.” 

A long silence draws out between you. You hate it, that you want to know what he concocted, what he thinks he knows about you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Yet here you are, bent over his lap with your bare ass in the air–what dignity is left to you? At last you take the bait. 

“What is it?”

“I would rephrase that, if I were you.” 

You sigh, consider telling him to fuck off, and decide you don’t have the fortitude today to stand up to whatever he would do to you after. Another battle, lost to this man. 

“What carefully considered bribery did I miss out on in my headstrong resistance to your charms, Sir?” 

This makes him laugh like the villain he is. “Oh that was good. I liked that.” He continues to draw light circles upon your buttocks and the backs of your thighs, driving you mad with his gentle touch. Despite the fact that he has–not to put too fine a point on it–already murdered your pussy, your center throbs and weeps in response to his hands upon you like this. He is carefully avoiding touching you there, teasing you mercilessly with his fingertips, but if he did dip in a finger he would find you soaked. 

“Maybe I could be convinced to tell you, if you make it up to me. You’ve been a very bad girl.” 

You know you are a depraved thing, when your treacherous clit throbs in answer to this suggestion. Thinking you know what he wants, because you can feel the bulge of his hard cock pressing against your side, you make to get up. 

Immediately he pins you back down, his fingers fisting in your hair. It sends a thrill down your spine, and you shift your hips in response, pressing your thighs in hope of some relief. “Did I say you could get up?” 

Oh. 

God fucking dammit. 

“How can I make it up to you, Sir?” 

Even the sound of his dark chuckle strums at your clit, turning you into an angry, needy little mess in his lap. 

“Get on your knees, bunny.” He guides you to the floor between his legs, slow but exacting, his fingers still tangled in your hair. Looking up at him like this from beneath your lashes wreaks unspeakable mayhem upon your sense of reason, and all you can think is that you’re fucked. Well and totally fucked, because you still can’t make your mind up about this man. 

“Take it out.” 

You shouldn’t enjoy running your palms up the lean length of his thighs encased in fine fabric, the way that you do. Your hands should shake more, as you undo his designer belt and the clasp of his trousers, carefully pulling the zipper down. The impressive length of his manhood strains against his briefs, and you shouldn’t feel this thrill of excitement as his cock springs free as you pull the last barrier down. 

You dare to look up at him again, gauging his mood. The truth is that you enjoy giving head, when you’re in love and you feel safe and you’re having a good time. One of those is completely off the table–the other two, you’re still on the fence about. 

“If I feel the slightest hint of teeth you will regret it.” 

“I’m not going to bite off my favorite part of you,” you fire back, and you get lucky when this seems to delight him, winning a huff of laughter.

“Good. Give it a kiss then.” 

You do as you’re told, and do him one better, taking his head between your lips and swirling your tongue around that nerve-rich flesh. You feel him relax beneath you, a low moan your reward as you take him further into your mouth, almost to the hilt. He lets you do what you want with him, seeming to enjoy your freestyling lips and tongue upon his hard shaft. You forget yourself, teasing the throbbing vein ever so lightly with your bottom teeth. It earns you a growl of warning–you shouldn’t laugh, muffled as it is with your mouthful–but you do. 

You know it’s your punishment, when his hold tightens in your hair at the back of your head, guiding you down down down onto his erection. He is too big to fit completely into your mouth. You try, and fail to suppress your gag reflex. But he holds you, not letting you up. 

“Relax,” he orders with new steel in his tone. “You can do it.” 

With tears in your eyes you fight to ease him into the back of your throat, taking him a little further. “That’s my good girl.” Now he guides you his with his hand on your head, merciless as he fucks your face with his huge cock. “Swallow it all, bunny.” It’s the only warning you get before a flood of spend fills your throat and your mouth, his iron-grip in your hair preventing you from moving anywhere but down upon him. You struggle to swallow, trying not to make a mess all over his expensive dress pants. When at last he lets you go, you gulp and gasp for air, wiping at the corner of your mouth.

He smirks down at you, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction but still shining black as a shark’s. It takes every iota of your self control not to say what you’re thinking: asshole. 

Maybe you can be taught.  

“Not bad. We’ll work on that.” You fall back on your butt on the floor when he releases you, and you watch as he puts himself away and stands, leaving you a crumpled mess on the floor at his feet. You can tell he enjoys this vantage, towering over you. Who says you have no self-control? Because you are so tempted to punch him in the balls, even if you know he would end you for it. 

“See you tonight, honey.” 

You can hardly believe he’s leaving after that–leaving you in a haggard little unsatisfied pile. Only with his hand on the door does he turn back to you, throwing over his shoulder, “Don’t you dare touch yourself. I’ll know.”

You acknowledge this directive with a frustrated little growl, banging your head on the cushioned edge of the couch. He takes this as close enough to acknowledgement, sweeping out of the room with a wicked chuckle. You stay on the floor for a good half hour, trying to process this latest indignity, and begging your body to calm the fuck down. Remember, that you hurt everywhere? Your libido is not so convinced. 

Neither go well for you, so in the end you just give up, get up, and go back to what you were doing with the taste of Donaka Mark still sharp and astringent on your tongue.

Bastard. Maybe escape won’t be enough. The longer this goes on…the more you want revenge.

[saiintofdiirt]

Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot.

notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy.

word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.

~~~~

Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.

Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.

Bleh.

“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”

“Did you know?” Parrot asks.

Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.

“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”

Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.

“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.

[_Kenadian_]: where are you?

“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”

[_Kenadian_]: wifies

[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you

“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”

[_Kenadian_]: wato

[Wato1876]: Hey!

[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies

[Wato1876]: No?

[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?

[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages

[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/

[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him

[_Kenadian_]: thx

“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.

“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”

“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”

“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.

“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”

“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.

The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.

“So you did know!”

“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”

“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”

“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”

[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.

[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.

Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.

“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.

“No,” Parrot replies.

“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.

“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.

“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.

“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”

Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.

[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon

[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?

“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”

Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.

“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”

Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.

“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”

“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”

“He never says anything to me, he never—”

“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”

Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .

“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”

Ken pulls at his roots.

“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”

Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.

“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”

“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”

Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.

“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”

“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”

“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”

“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”

“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.

“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.

“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”

“Fine.”

Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.

“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.

“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.

“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.

The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.

[Parrotx2]: Ken

[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: not to you

[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies

[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts

[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy

[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing

[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him

[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do

[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up

[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal

[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy

[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared

[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone

[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.

[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general

[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch

[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways

[Parrotx2]: not the point

[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status

[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received

[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?

[Parrotx2]: he has every right

[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me

[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me

[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that

[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly

[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him

[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him

[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met

[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried

[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point

[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier

[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?

“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.

“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.

[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.

[Parrotx2]: sorry

[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now

[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you

[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow

“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”

[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry

[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows

[_Kenadian_]: just

[_Kenadian_]: give him some space

[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you

[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny

[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry

“Ken!!”

[Parrotx2]: I

[Parrotx2]: what?

[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy

[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that

[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do

[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe

[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.

[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe

“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.

“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”

“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.

“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”

Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.

“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”

Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.

Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.

“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder. 

“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.

“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans. 

Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.

[marvelsmylife]

An unconventional love story

Pairing: Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader

Plot: when you fall pregnant with your husband's child. Rhysand, along with his brothers and your brothers must put their differences aside to help save your life

Masterlist

Request

You and Rhysand didn’t have a storybook love story. You were arranged to get married because your father wanted more power and all but sold you to Rhysand. You could tell this was just a business transaction for Rhysand so you didn’t bother trying to get to know him at first. Fortunately for you, the courtship lasted three years before your actual wedding. The courtship was painfully awkward at the beginning. 

While you and Rhys didn’t speak unless you were forced to, you ended up forming a close friendship with Mor. Yes, it was awkward at first, seeing as she had a bad relationship with your oldest brother. You reassured her you weren’t like him and slowly gained her trust. She, in turn, would encourage Rhysand to talk to you more and get to know you better.

Rhysand would take what his cousin said to heart and would try to get to know you better. Of course, you were walking on eggshells and overall awkward when you were in the same room together. He knew you initially didn’t want to marry him but was willing to do it for the sake of your father and your court. 

He asked you repeatedly if you were sure about getting married because he didn’t want to force you if you genuinely didn’t want to go through with the marriage. “Yes,” I would almost shout in response, “it’s just that this is all new to me. I’ve never even had my first kiss yet because of how controlling my father is. I feel like won’t be enough for you.”

Rhysand sighed at your explanation and ended up pulling you into an embrace, “You are enough for me. If I’m being honest, I was the one to suggest this marriage to your father and hid it as a business transaction because I got wind he was planning on marrying you off to one of Keir’s men.” 

Rhysand shuttered as he recalled that night vividly. Rhysand was walking through the halls of Hewn City when he overheard Keir and your father's voice. “Don’t worry, her maidenhood is still intact. She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet” your father said and Rhysand found himself clenching his fist. He couldn’t believe your father was willing to marry you off to someone as sleazy as one of Keir’s men. That’s when he walked in and offered to marry you in exchange for an alliance between your courts. Your father was all too eager to accept Rhysand’s offer.

Letting out a sigh I replied, “Honestly I’m not surprised. Although, I’m a little happier knowing I’m marrying you and not one of Keir’s men,” I scrunched up my nose, “you’re way more attractive than any of them.”

A smirk appeared on Rhysand’s face at your words, “You think I’m attractive?”

“We’ll yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you answered honestly “I’d much rather marry you than marry any of Keir’s men.”

Rhysand laughed softly at your comment and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “You are something else y/n. I can’t wait to marry you.”

You felt your face growing hot at Rhysand’s words. “Can I ask for a favor?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. Rhysand nodded and you continued, “Could you kiss me? I don’t want to have my first kiss to happen in front of everyone at our wedding.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your request but complied. He cupped your face before leaning in and kissed you. It was short and sweet but you found yourself smiling by the end. “There. Now your first kiss won’t be in front of hundreds of fae” Rhysand smiled down at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at Rhysand, “and I promise I’ll be a perfect wife for you.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect,” Rhysand replied, “I just want you to be happy in our marriage. My parents didn’t have a happy marriage and although I’m technically marrying you without you having a say. I do want you to be happy in our marriage.”

You gave Rhysand a genuine smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. “I can already tell I’m going to be happy in our marriage,” you held onto each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away and saying your goodbyes. Not realizing the next time you would see each would be at your wedding.

Your first time with Rhysand was surprisingly great for both of you. It was no secret that Rhysand wasn’t a virgin when you started courting, but you were. Your father wanted you to be pure for your future spouse so he would execute any males who would dare show interest in you. Your father was proud of himself as he announced it in front of everyone at the wedding reception.

While you wanted to crawl into a hole and die at your father’s words, so Rhysand reached over and held your hand to comfort you. “It’s going to be ok” Rhysand whispered to you to try and calm you down.

After the reception, you and Rhysand made your way to the private residence your father bought for this specific moment. You were in the bathroom getting ready to consummate your marriage. Once you were ready, you stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Rhys lying down on the extravagantly large bed. There was no doubt it was designed specifically to accommodate his large wings.

Your breath hitched as you noticed Rhysand checking you out. You felt the urge to cover yourself at his stare but opted not to because you knew he was now allowed to stare at you in that manner. “Um,” I paused “as you know, I haven’t been with anyone so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whispered as you played with your fingers.

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and got up from the bed, before walking over to where you were standing. “It’s ok, little red. I’ll guide you through this,” Rhysand ran his finger against your cheek before settling it on your waist.

You start breathing heavily as Rhysand pulls the straps of your white, lace nightgown; making it drop on the floor. Your long red hair cascaded over your breasts, “Wow” Rhysand whispered as he saw your bare chest. Feeling self-conscious, you tried to cover your, but Rhysand stopped you. “Never hide yourself from me,” Rhysand whispered as he removed your hands before pushing your hair back so he could see your breasts “They’re beautiful.”

A low groan escaped from Rhysand’s lips as he ran his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your heart started racing as Rhysand took one of your nipples into his mouth and began to suck on it. “Do you like that?” Rhysand asked as he held onto you possessively.

“Yes” I whimpered softly as you ran your hands through Rhysand’s raven-black hair, “I really like it.”

Rhysand groaned at your actions and decided to lift you by your thighs and carry you to the bed. His eyes were glued to you as he laid you down on the bed. “I’m going to make this a night you’ll never forget.”

You smiled as Rhysand took his time and worshipped your body. He spent a solid thirty minutes between your legs, getting you ready for his cock. He made sure he talked to you the entire time to make you feel comfortable. Once he knew you were prepared, Rhysand lined his cock against your entrance “Relax, ok?” You gave a small nod before he carefully slid into you slowly. “Fuck. You’re so deliciously tight,” Rhysand groaned as he tried to control himself so he didn’t slam in all at once. 

“It still hurts,” You shut your eyes as tight as you could as Rhysand’s cock stretched you out.

Rhysand heart hurt at your cry, “I know sweetie, but it’ll pass and you’ll feel good. Just like before with my tongue. You just have to relax your body.”

You tried what Rhysand said and relaxed while he continued to insert his cock fully inside you. Once he was, he remained still for several seconds as he allowed you to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you and only wanted to continue when you gave him the ok. After a few minutes, you were able to fully relax and whisper into his ear, “You can start moving.”

Rhysand looked you in your eyes to make sure you were ok before he slowly started to move inside you carefully. He could tell you were still uncomfortable so he started kissing your neck in an attempt to distract you. It worked because slowly your whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure. “You feel amazing y/n.”

“Rhys” you panted as you began to dig your nails into his back. Hearing his name slip out of your lips only encouraged Rhysand to pick up his pace while his hands roamed your body. “It feels so good,” you shut your eyes as you let yourself get consumed with pleasure.

Soft cries of pleasure and groans filled the room as you and Rhysand made love that night. By the end Rhysand had you lying on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings into your ears. “Thank you for being gentle with me. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my maids about how horrible some males get when they’re being intimate with a female.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and held you close. “I will never hurt you. You are my wife, my equal and I will show you nothing but respect during our marriage,” with that Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead before both of you drifted off to sleep.

From that night forward yours and Rhysand’s relationship changed for the better. You were no longer awkward around each other. You often sought each other out and constantly had to be touching. He also had to explain to you that you had to put on a mean persona whenever you had to visit the Hewn City. He explained he created a mean persona so the people in Hewn City would fear him.

Fortunately for him, you mastered the mean persona while living with your father in the autumn court. You had to toughen up at a young age because most of your brothers would bully you for being the only female among them. The only brothers you genuinely got along with were Eris and Lucien. Eris because he didn’t see you as a threat and Lucien because you were his baby sister and felt more of an urge to protect than bully. 

You loved Lucien so much for being so kind to you growing up, that he was the first to find out you were pregnant.

It was a warm summer evening when he came over for his weekly visit. He immediately knew something was different about you but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t until he was up close when could see your glowing face that he realized you were pregnant. “I’m so excited for you, baby sister. I know you will be an amazing mother,” Lucien exclaimed as Rhysand entered the room. Lucien then proceeds to hug Rhys and tell him he’s happy for him as well.

Unfortunately, the joyous news was short-lived when Madja informed Rhysand in private that the baby had wings. Rhysand silently cursed himself because he had a feeling that was going to happen. He had tried for months to try to convince you not to have kids. He disguised it as he saw them as a burden, but in reality, he wanted nothing more than to have a mini version of the two of you. You ultimately got your way and managed to convince Rhysand that you guys needed an heir for the nigh court.

Ever since that revelation, Rhysand would silently panic about how he was going to tell you that your baby would most likely kill you. He would think back to the old version him, the one who wouldn’t have cared for your well-being. He often wished he could punch that old version of him and tell him that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. Seeing as he’s come to love and cherish you, he couldn’t bring himself to think of a world where you’re not in it.

As weeks passed and was running out of options on how to save both your life, Rhysand finally goes to Eris and Lucien for help. They were both rightfully mad that Rhysand hid this from not only them but also you. “How could you keep this from our sister? Our sister might die because of you.” Eris scolded your husband as Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien winced.

“You don’t think I know that!” Rhysand barked back as he ran his hands over his face, “I tried, I tried hard to convince her not to have a child but she was very persistent.” Rhysand found himself breaking down as the realization that you might die hit him, “I-we can’t let that happen. That’s why I called you guys. I need your help finding a way to save my wife’s life.”

Both Eris and Lucien’s anger disappeared once they heard Rhysand’s pleas. “I’ll ask around the other courts. Hopefully one of them knows something that can help us,” Eris gave Rhysand a weak smile.

“I’ll ask around the mortal lands. See if they somehow know something,” Lucien added. He walked up to his brother-in-law and patted his shoulder, “We’re going to figure this out and save my sister, ok?” Rhysand nodded as all five males in the room began working together to save your life.

Months quickly passed by with little to no progress on how to help you. Time ran out one morning when your water finally broke while you were gardening outside. “Rhys ! ! !” you shouted at you clenched your stomach, “it’s time, the baby is coming.”

Rhysand appeared by your side in a matter of seconds and guided you to your bed before calling out to Madja. “It’s going to be ok, my darling y/n,” Rhysand kissed the top of your head as he helped you out of your clothes and into your nightgown.

Meanwhile, in the day court, Eris was thanking Helion for managing to find a tonic that would help you deliver the babe without harming both of you. “Thank you for your help. The autumn court is in your debt.” Eris informed Helion.

“Don’t worry about it. Y/n has become a good friend ever since she and Rhys got married,” Helion smiled before Eris left for the night court.

Fortunately for everyone, you were still in the early stages of your delivery when Eris arrived and rushed to your side. “Drink this,” Eris uncapped the tonic and gave it to you. You gave him a funny look before he angrily said. “Drink this.”

“Ok, you don’t have to be rude,” you took the tonic before handing the empty bottle back to Eris. “Why did you-oh” Your face morphed for a few seconds as you felt something change within your body.

Rhysand, Eris, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren all watched carefully. Rhysand bent down and got ahold of your hand, “my love, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “I felt as if my body changed” You looked over at Madja and began to panic, “did something bad happen to my baby?”

Madja rushed over and examined you, “Mother above, I didn’t think this would be possible,” Madja whispered before looking up at you, “yes, it looks like the baby is ok. It’s just that your anatomy changed so you’ll be able to deliver the baby properly.” Madja looked over at Eris “I don’t know what you gave her, but you just saved her’s and the babe's life.”

Eris had a small smile on his face at Madja’s words as he watched from the side as you gave birth to your child. 

You smiled down at your baby boy, who happened to have his father’s skin complexion and violet eyes with your fiery red hair and your nose. “He’s perfect” you gushed as you held your son in your hands. You looked up and noticed everyone staring at you and the baby, “do you want to hold your son, Rhysand?”

Rhysand was more than happy to hold his son while Lucien bent down next to you and kept repeating how happy and proud he was of you. “You did good y/n. That is the most precious babe I’ve ever seen. He’s going to be so loved by us and the two courts his parents are from.”

“Thank you, Lucien. You and Eris,” you look over at Eris who was also knelt down beside you, “are the best brothers anyone can ask for.” 

Lucien gently kissed your hand before him and Eris backed up and Rhysand take their place. “Look at him. He’s going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up,” Rhysand bent down so he was close to you while holding our child.

“He better not. He’s going to respect females from a very young age,” you laughed as you placed your hand on top of Rhysand’s.

In that instant, both you and Rhysand felt the mating bond snap between the two of you. “Would you look at that?” Rhysand chuckled “It only took you giving birth to our son for the mating bond to snap into place for us.”

You let out a soft laugh as Rhysand handed you back the baby so you could nurse him. “I love you, Rhys.”

“I love you too, my darling y/n” Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead and held your hand. Content that not only did he still have you in his life, but that your baby boy was here as well and he was healthy.

[cynthiav06]

With Percy, we know that he hates going to school and his goals don’t really line up with Annabeth’s, but Annabeth is kind of forcing him to do it with her because he can’t say no to her. Say Rick didn’t make Annabeth Percy’s entire personality, what do you think he would’ve done in the mortal world rather than go to university?

I was checking my drafts cause I am trying to catch up on all the asks in my inbox ( as I said in one of my earlier posts I was in middle of a medical situation so I have at least a month of backlog) and found this draft.

The funny thing is I had already written most of the post in the draft version, and this ask wasn't even being displayed in my inbox, so I was very confused as to when it was from.

But it's such a good prompt and a sort of controversial question in the fandom, so I wanted to post it asap.

Percy doesn't like studies, but he knows the importance of it, so I am sure he will finish his initial college, probably either in the science or arts section. We know at one point he got better grades than Annabeth at one point so he certainly isn't quitting studies and doing way better than what people expect. He also wouldn't like just staying at home and doing nothing (I am looking at certain Percabeth stans here), so he definitely would be doing one job or another.

1.

I don't think he would study marine biology like most believe. After a conversation I had with someone who had taken the course, I am convinced Percy wouldn't like it. It's heavily based on chemistry, and we know how much Percy is affected by sea creatures being mistreated or caged, so having to study marine biology wouldn't really be something he would choose.

2.

An interesting twist would be if he chose to be a writer like his mother.

We all know that Percy writes or at least dictates and narrates the first five books, which are written and narrated entirely from his perspective. Moreover, there are books on Percy just narrating his own sarcastic takes on Greek gods and Greek heroes. What if he did actually catalogue his own adventures in those books as a sort of manual for other demigods on how to deal with certain monsters and gods and such.

Through Percy's thoughts, even as 12 years old, we can certainly say he has advanced vocabulary despite being dyslexic and given how much he admires Sally, why wouldn't he be interested in following her footsteps. Sure, he has trouble reading, but that's not to say he wouldn't love expressing his thoughts through humorous retelling of his own adventures which he can pass as fiction to normal readers but actual experiences in demigod world. Who doesn't want to know the exploits of Percy Jackson?

Plus, it's a good money hack. And don't for a second tell me he wouldn't. Sally petrified Gabe, and then they sold his statute to a museum as a sculpture and earned money off of that. So Sally would definitely encourage it, and Percy would even follow through on it just for shits and giggles and the added benefit of helping demigods and earning money.

[I literally want this to happen just for the Godly reactions. I am all for god slander, especially Zeus slander. Poseidon would be half laughing at the book and half worried cause of the sheer catastrophes his son seems to fall into almost on a daily basis.

Apollo would be having a grand time, and Hermes will be half depressed and half impressed throughout. Overall, it would be hilarious all around, and it might finally make the gods feel a bit more accountable . It's literally the Reading Percy Jackson Series trope, and that's always fun.]

3.

One other option is that Percy will get into environmental preservation, specifically the protection of Rivers and Seas from pollution by actively involving himself and others in its cleanliness and purification. He would also run Beach cleanliness programs.

I think he and Grover would become environmental activists and would definitely get into preserving forest areas and other places where nature spirits dwell frequently. I can see them doing it a lot, long-term wise, too.

4.

I think he would kind of like marine explorations, but that might cause his powers to be somewhat exposed, so he might not do that, but it's a possibility.

That's all I can think of. I would like to hear everyone else's opinions on this.

[actuallysaiyan]

Video Vamps(Vampire!Hizashi Yamada & Vampire!Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, biting, vampires, hypnotism, mentions of rabies, bats, scary video game, blood drinking, oral sex(fem receiving), nipple play, dark and suggestive themes, pet names pairings: Vampire!Hizashi Yamada & Vampire!Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader word count: 1.2k summary: Hizashi and Shouta invite you over to show you a scary video game they found, but really it's just to get you to consent to their own little mind game. a/n: for @nanamiscocksleeve's collab event, Monster Mash. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

You walk in between both Shouta and Hizashi. They had called you up tonight to ask you to come over to play some spooky video game they had just gotten their hands on. As per usual, Shouta isn’t nearly as invested in this as Hizashi is, but there’s a look of mischief in his eyes.

“Is this a bogus story just to get me to come hang out? Like the one about the bat that bit you two last week?” You ask, skeptically wondering what the motive was.

Hizashi turns to face you, standing under a streetlamp, “I promise you that actually happened! We had to go see a doctor to make sure we didn’t have rabies.”

“Right right…rabies.”

Hizashi is about to grow defensive, but Shouta is eager to get back to his shared apartment with the loud blond. The three of you pile in the door, taking off your shoes and then going to the living room. Then Hizashi heads into the kitchen to get some refreshments for all three of you.

You sit on the tattered couch as Shouta boots up the old video game console. Just in time for the game to start., Hizashi sets down a bowl of popcorn and some sodas for all three of you. You wonder what this video game is really going to be like.

The screen is black at first, then the dripping red text appears on the screen. Video Vamps, the title reads. You’re a little more intrigued now. It seems like it could be something spooky and fun. It’s perfect for this time of year.

Hizashi is the first to wrap his arm around your shoulder and to pull you in even closer. He whispers in your ear, “If you get scared, I’m here to hold you.” You scoff at his words, but you do like being close to him.

Shouta starts the game. It plays like a very old Super Famicom game. He’s controlling what looks to be a teenager in an old mansion on the screen. The teenager fights off bats and skeletons with an old sword.

He beats a few levels, then he passes the controller to Hizashi. Hizashi smirks at the dark haired man. “I think I can continue, Sho.”

You snuggle closer to Shouta, and he wraps his arm around you. He pulls you even closer, surprising you in a way. He presses the softest little kiss on your forehead, which shocks you. Neither of them are shy about flirting with you, but Shouta usually is the more subdued of the two when it comes to affections.

One Hizashi has beaten a few more levels, he passes the controller back to Shouta. This goes on for a bit before the screen turns to black again. Then the same bloody red text appears on the screen. This time it says, ‘It’s too late to run…’

You look up for a moment, unsure of what it’s meant to be warning you about. This is when you realize you haven’t heard anything from either Hizashi nor Shouta in a bit. You look at both of them, but they are very fixated on the screen.

“Uh…so was that the end?” You finally inquire.

You’re met with even more silence. It’s becoming a little eerie in this way too. Usually Hizashi is quick with something clever to say, or Shouta is trying to be the logical one. But neither of them can tear their eyes away from the screen.

Then there’s a sudden loud noise. The screen turns bright red and both men seem to almost snap out of it. You look at Shouta then at Hizashi. Shouta smirks at you, loving the way fear is written all over your face. Hizashi grabs you and pulls you even closer.

“Didn’t we tell you something happened to us?” he whispers in your ear.

“N-no…wait…does this have to do with the bat?”

He laughs as he begins nipping at your earlobe before kissing down your neck. Shouta leans in and holds your wrists down. You try to break out of the tight hold, but it’s impossible. He’s got you pinned down pretty good.

“Look at the fear in her eyes, Loudmouth.” Shouta comments.

Hizashi laughs, “Oh she’s terrified.”

Before you even have time to react properly to what either of them are saying, Hizashi sinks his fangs deep into your neck. You cry out weakly, desperate to get away from him. You feel a warm liquid dripping down your neck and you know you’re bleeding.

When Hizashi pulls away, Shouta leans in to lap up the blood from your neck. He sinks his fangs in as well, drinking from you. Then they both pull away. Hizashi kneels before you, hiking up your skirt. Shouta nips at his own wrist, bringing it to your mouth.

“Drink, baby. Or else it’ll hurt more.”

His words don’t make sense, but you do as you’re told. You drink his blood, finding it more appealing than you could ever imagine. All the while, Hizashi has your panties pushed to the side.

“You’re greedy, Hizashi.” Shouta scolds him.

Hizashi smirks, “Can you blame me? I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

You’re trembling as this intense feeling overwhelms you. Hizashi’s warm tongue presses against your folds while Shouta is working on taking your shirt off. So much for being patient, you think to yourself. His hands are calloused and feeling so rough on your skin as he finally frees your tits.

“She’s perfect,” Hizashi moans between long, languid licks of your pussy. “I’m so glad we decided to include her in this.”

Shouta pulls you onto his lap, spreading your thighs even more for Hizashi to be able to devour you, “I’m glad with our decision as well.”

You lean against him, feeling the muscles against your back. You shudder when Hizashi leans back in to lick you again, suckling on your clit to make you shudder.

“Let me tell you,” Shouta whispers in your ear as he tugs on your nipples. “You did so well for us. But this will be an adjustment, baby. You’ll become just like us.”

You have so many questions, but with the way Hizashi is licking you, you know you won’t be able to muster up the brain power to ask any questions just yet. The coil in your stomach tightens so tight, you’re seeing stars in your vision. Shouta smirks as your legs begin to shake and he actually reaches down to tangle his fingers in Hizashi’s hair. You only barely just notice the claws instead of regular fingernails.

“That’s it, Hizashi. Bring our little darling to orgasm.”

Your body is tingling. Your eyes flutter shut and you’re panting. All at once, this intense wave of pleasure and energy overwhelms you. You cry out as you begin soaking Hizashi’s face and the floor with your juices. You feel the teeth in your mouth getting sharper; your nails turn into claws.

When you open your eyes again, it’s like the world is breathing. Everything around you looks more vivid. Colors are vibrant. Hizashi’s eyes are glowing red as he looks up to you and smirks.

“Welcome to the nighttime world, kiddo.” Shouta whispers in your ear.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[dark-and-kawaii]

Seeing others thirst over your male characters makes me feel better since I thought I was the only one. Now tell me about this new guy with the scars I need to know for sinful reasons

Oh yeah, no. You definitely aren’t alone with this and I’m honored for that ♡!!! Bahaha yes yes, I can tell you about Aedric! Please enjoy xoxo and thank you for the love ♡ ♡ ♡ I added pieces with Zevlor so you can get a feel for his character as well.

Aedric was actually created pre Lofn since he was introduced fairly early in our DnD campaign. He and his little brother were orphans that were taken in by Lynnania (Lofn’s mother the Queen). Aka her first two children despite not being of her blood. Unfortunately Aedric’s little brother passed.

When it comes to Zevlor, the two had a very rocky start and Aedric never liked the idea of his sister being with some washed up hellrider that couldn’t even protect his own people… During Lofn’s childbirth, as she was struggling to give birth and her screams could be heard, Aedric was pacing next to her angrily.

As Zevlor rushed into the chambers to be with his beloved, Aedric immediately drew his blade and held the sharp edge against Zevlor’s throat, growling- threatening, “Should she die, I will ensure you spend every waking moment haunted by the knowledge that her blood is on your hands thanks to that child you sowed inside her.”

It was only when the two went into battle and had to cover one another did Aedric begin to trust and respect Zevlor. And when Zevlor eventually killed Aradin that’s when Aedric finally accepted Zevlor. Hehehe ooops spoiler.

One time when Zevlor returned back to the castle, his form bloodied, his men trailing behind in a similar state. Aedric leaned against a wall, eyes narrowed as he listened... Watching as Lofn demanded what happened.

Zevlor’s gaze flickered to one of his men, his jaw clenched, an arm encircling Lofn as his other curled into a fist, “you fool! We were all nearly slaughtered because of your incompetence!”

Aedric pushed off the wall and quickly swept Lofn up, carrying her out from the room before locking her out. The air was thick as he turned, his eyes dark as he strode towards the accused man. The sound of his blade leaving its sheath before striking down the man that nearly got Zevlor killed…

Due to being raised by Lynnania and spending much of his time with her before her actual children were born he took on many of her traits. He’s ruthless, cold blooded, and does not hesitate to eliminate those he sees as obstacles. His actions often include lethal force, whether in battle or political maneuvering.

He tends to operate in shades of gray, making decisions that can be remorseless but always has his family & the people of Thay in mind. The people of Thay recognize Aedric as an incredibly skilled and deadly warrior as well as a capable diplomat, having help negotiate a peace treaty with a neighboring kingdom.

Aedric is known for his stoicism and dry wit- he often comes across as gruff and serious, but has moments where he’s humorous and has his guard down where he reveals deeper emotions.

Lofn and Aedric are extremely close, for example, when Lofn was little she often sought Aedric and Signa (her eldest blood brother) out. She would always cling to Aedric’s leg whenever they walked around the palace, and at times she’d even step on his toes so that he could walk around with her on his feet. During nights where terrible dreams haunted her she was usually found dragging Signa to Aedric’s room so that she could crawl in bed with him and have them both read her stories until she fell back asleep (though tired they didn’t mind doing this for her <3)

After proving himself worthy, Aedric gained the blessing of and became the rider of the third largest dragon in Thay, the Ancient Black Dragon.

[gfpines3]

Chapter 12 Conclusion

At the truck the Pines family packs all their supplies away. During that time many fans were giving complements , asking for photos taken and even wanting signatures from them.

Dipper looks at them and smiles but then remembers what he said then goes to all three men.

“Hey guys?” Dipper asks causing them to turn their attention to him.

“I’m… real sorry about what I said. I don’t know why I said but…”

“It’s ok,Dipper.” Ford says smiling leaning down to his nephew’s side.

“We‘be all been there before!”

“Yeah! Like the time mom drove us to school and kissed our cheeks! Remember that one Sixer?!” Stan laughed

“Yeah and you said some girl had a great time with quote on quote “Stan the Man” last night!” Ford laughed

“Well I couldn’t tell them my mommy kissed me with her rouge lipstick, could I?!”

Ford rolls his eyes then turns back to Dipper.

“The point is we get it! You’re a teenager, you’re gonna feel embarrassed sometimes and it didn’t help we weren’t professional too.”

“Yeah, but look what you guys did! You guys solved a mystery not like the sibling brothers but like your messy, crazy selves!” Dipper pointed out.

“Sometimes a mess can actually be art, dude!” Soos said “ Just back away and you’ll see it!”

“That’s actually wise,Soos!” Dipper said shocked.

“Yeah I think that costume must have cut the circulation in my head, dawg! Although I think I lost like 2 pounds bros!” Soos states

Everyone laughed then they all got into the truck.

“Oh wait!” Dipper states “I didn’t get a signature from my heroes!”

“You still wanna autograph from those frauds?” Stan says confused.

“Actually..” Dipper says. Then Dipper shows him a Lil Stanley comic and gives it to him and Ford for them to sign.

They smiled then signed the comic and gave it to their nephew. Dipper then took out his Sibling brothers book and threw it out the window!

“Goodbye Sibling Brothers!” He says. The pines family soon laughed and Stan drove away then back to run over the book a dozen times before finally leaving.

Eventually, they make it back to the Mystery Shack before it became dark.

“Ah it’s good to be home!” Stan states getting out of the car.

“Yes indeed!” Ford says carrying his duffle bag with him to the door. “It’s nice to be back at our nice, clean comfortable..”

Suddenly, Ford sees a shocking sight! The whole house was in disarray. Junk food was everywhere and makeup everywhere as well. There was also scratch marks on the rug and walls. Yet, the girls were no where in sight.

Soon Stan comes in and sees then sight of the room.

“Hot Belgian Waffles!” He screams “What happened to the living room?!”

Soon ford hears a growling sound coming from the Mystery Shack. He gets his laser gun and signals the rest of the men to follow him slowly.

They eventually head into store’s door.

Ford signals on the count of three they bust into the shop. To their surprise they saw Mabel,Wendy and Mabel’s friends all trying to calm the werewolf in the cage.

“Oh hey.. Grunkle stan, Grunkle Ford! You’re Home!” Mabel says surprised and trying to act innocent. Suddenly, once again the werewolf snarled and tried to bite them.

“Bad Brad Bad!” Grenda shouted whipping him.

“We can explain!” Wendy says.

“I’ll get the wolf’s bane!” Ford said.

“I’ll intimidate the werewolf!” Stan said.

“I’ll get the Journal!” Dipper says.

“I’ll take photos!” Soos says.

The End

[rhondafromhr]

TGWDLM AU where Bill is the main character (below the cut because I rambled A LOT)

He becomes the guy who doesn’t like musicals after he spends all that money on tickets to the Starlight and sits through Mamma Mia and Alice doesn’t even appreciate it (by chance, they see the showing, like, the night before the meteor hits). Pokey then sets his sights on Bill instead of Paul—his hatred of musicals comes from a more emotional place connected to what he treasures most, which will make for a really compelling arc in the last remaining story to tell that Pokey just can’t resist. He also has a clearly defined want (connecting with Alice), so Pokey decides he makes a more suitable musical protagonist.

Little does Pokey know this is going to make things a huge pain in the ass for him. Bill can canonically snap out of Blinky’s control when he sees that Alice is distressed and in danger (Watcher World), so maybe this resistance could apply to other Lords in Black and give him a fighting chance in their apocalypses.

He gets to the school and “Not Your Seed” happens. He thinks he’s too late and he’s devastated, but it turns out Alice is just pretending to be infected to blend in with the rest of the hive so they don’t get her. In this universe, she wrote the song for one of her musicals (she writes musicals as well as plays in this timeline) and sang it because it was the first song that came to mind. It brings up a really uncomfortable, but long awaited conversation between them and they start working through their issues as they try to survive together. This culminates in them understanding each other and their differences better and learning how to play to each other’s strength (in sync, but very much individuals who only work so well together because of their differences, a foil to Pokey’s hive mind).

They manage to destroy the meteor like Paul never could. Bill’s declaration as they finish it off is: “I. Don’t. Like. Your. Musical!” He doesn’t want to say he doesn’t like musicals in general, because he’s trying to be more supportive of Alice’s interests. This is a final insult to Pokey before he’s defeated, because it’s way less dramatic than the actual line from the show and it ruins his grand finale. Even if Bill triumphed and he didn’t get his singular voice, he could have taken comfort in a big, theatrical conclusion with a grand, decisive statement, but Bill won’t even give him that because of his infuriating care for his daughter.

Also Bill is the regular at Beanie’s instead of Paul. Emma likes him because he’s one of the only customers that’s polite to her and he doesn’t make her sing. She doesn’t complain about making his caramel frappe, even though she’s totally the type of barista who judges you for liking sweet sugary drinks that are complicated to make. They bond over their struggles to connect with their families and give each other the best advice they can. He’s encouraging of her pot farm dream, even if he doesn’t understand it, but makes her promise not to sell to Alice because he’s worried about Deb being a bad influence and turning her into a hardcore stoner. When General McNamara asks if she’s a friend or if she’s something more, he replies, “No, but she’s important to me. Isn’t there more than one type of love?” This causes McNmara to wistfully remember a long lost friend (maybe Wilbur Cross) and agree.

[secretnook]

*Monster by Kanye West ft. Nicki Minaj starts playing and it’s not acknowledged until Nicki’s verse*

Sam:

Pull up in the monster, automobile gangsta

With a bad

Jamie: bitch

Sam: that came from Sri Lanka

Yeah, I'm in that Tonka, color of Willy Wonka

You could be the king but watch the Queen conquer

Colin: *yelling*

Okay, first things first I'll eat your brains

Then I'ma start rockin' gold teeth and fangs

'Cause that's what a motherfuckin' monster do

Hairdresser from Milan, that's the monster 'do

Monster Giuseppe heel, that's the monster shoe

Young money is the roster and the monster crew

And I'm all up, all up, all up in the bank with the funny face

And if I'm fake, I ain't notice 'cause my money ain't

Isaac: *cuts off Colin*

So let me get this straight, wait, I'm the rookie?

But my features and my shows ten times your pay?

Fifty K for a verse, no album out

Yeah, my money's so tall that my Barbies gotta climb it

Hotter than a Middle Eastern climate, violent

Tony Matterhorn, dutty wine it, wine it

Nicki on them titties when I sign it

That's how these guys so one-track minded

Jamie: *gets in Isaac’s face*

But really, really I don't give a F-U-C-K

"Forget Barbie, fuck Nicki 'cause sh-she's fake"

"She on a diet, " but my pockets eatin' cheesecake

And I'll say bride of Chucky is child's play

Just killed another career it's a mild day

Besides, Ye, they can't stand besides me

I think me, you and Amb' should ménage Friday

Will: *cuts in out of no where*

Pink wig, thick ass, give 'em whip lash

I think big, get cash, make 'em blink fast

Now look at what you just saw, this is what you live for

Ah, I'm a motherfuckin' monster

*Sam/Colin/Isaac/Jamie/Will jumping up and down yelling and hyping each other up*

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: THE CITADEL (PART 2)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Maj. Kaidan Alenko With: Councilor Donnel Udina, Councilor Tevos, Councilor Laiel Sparatus, Cmdr. Armando-Owen Bailey, and Kai Leng And a Special Guest Appearance by: The Illusive Man But sometimes the way a thing goes down does matter, Sophie. Later- when you have to live with yourself. Knowing that you acted with integrity- then it matters. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)