#oh well at least there's fic

[louwhose]

For @nocturnalfandomartist's DTIYS!! This was a lot of fun to do!

[kmesons]

while the concept of samuel existing in maia's room as some sort of afterlife has been wonderfully and sincerely portrayed in some recent fanworks, it's also very funny to me because I imagine the first few moments of samuel being in the room going something like

[bloody-cupcakes]

Jason Dean x yandere/dark! reader; you surprise him with slushies for breakfast

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, suggestive stuff/frank sex talk as well as implied sex/smutish activities, mentions of insomnia, implied murder, the reader is very clingy and affectionate with JD (almost to a smothering amount but he doesn't mind), this is one of the more tame things I've written tbh

A/N: this is a twist on the "one character gets a blue drink and the other gets a red so naturally their tongues become purple by making out" trope. I literally wrote this in thirty minutes so I could have something posted for heathers day, which is September 1st, so if this sucks then that's why and I'm sorry (and then I got distracted and forgot so it's a day late oops)

JD used to think he hated sleeping in general, but after meeting you he just realized he hated sleeping alone. Laying in bed after downing half a bottle of melatonin gummies while waiting for sleep to kick in wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Lucky for him, you had plenty ways of resolving that issue.

Admittedly, they did a pretty good job at working effectively given that most of them involved you physically wearing him out. Whether it was with murder or sex, either way certainly made it easier for him to slip into a state of exhaustion and conk out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He didn't mind much. In fact, the act of you tiring him out as quickly as possible once he complained about being unable to sleep was one that he quite enjoyed. He preferred to stay with you anyway. There was nothing at his house that made it worth sticking around other than the few vague personal effects of his, and most of them he'd transferred over to your place already.

The sun was already starting to peek through the blinds when he woke up, which signified he must've slept for a good long while. That didn't surprise him given just how late the two of you had stayed up the night before, but what did surprise him was your absence. Usually you waited until he woke up to leave the bed, or at the very least told him if you were going to get up.

Thank god you walked into the room a few minutes later, because otherwise he would've started to panic, and that was definitely not something he wanted to be doing so early in the morning.

"Hey, baby," you greeted as you kicked off your shoes and set two large Styrofoam cups you'd gotten from the 7/11 near your house on the nightstand. "Did you sleep well?"

JD could practically feel his heartbeat start to slow back down once he saw you. You hadn't abandoned him, you just went out to get some slushies. No problem.

"Mh, yeah," he mumbled groggily as he sat up in the bed, watching you slip off his trenchcoat and toss it to the side. If he had been more awake, the sight of you wearing his clothes would've given him an instant boner, but the drowsiness he still felt was currently cancelling that out.

"Good, I'm glad." You sat down on the bed next to him, gently smoothing his messy hair back from his face before handing him one of the Styrofoam cups. "Here, I know how much you crave slushies the night after sex."

He gladly took the cup from you, immediately taking a big sip. "Thanks." It still felt weird, having someone being so affectionate and loving with him after everything he'd been through. A huge part of him felt like he didn't deserve it, but he knew you'd never leave him even if that was true. Something about how attached you were should've been unnerving, but JD was pretty unnerving himself so he wasn't bothered by it.

"Did you seriously wear your pajamas to go get slushies?" He asked after a moment, his brain finally catching up as he began to wake up more. The cold, sweet drink in his hands certainly helped matters.

"Well, I wasn't going to put on real clothes," you insisted lightheartedly before drinking some of your own slushie, which just so happened to be the opposite color of his. "Besides, we both know they're not going to stay on much longer anyway."

"Oh god," he muttered under his breath, though he was unable to keep the faint smirk of amusement off his face when you said that.

"Here, lemme have your drink for a moment." You placed both cups back on the nightstand before grabbing his face and pulling him in for a hungry kiss. He suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was only wearing a pair of boxers as he hadn't gotten properly dressed yet.

"C'mon, I wasn't finished," he complained with a slight huff even as he let you push him flat onto his back with no other protest.

"You can finish later. For now, I say we take the blue and red from our drinks and make purple." Your voice came out in a low tease when you spoke, your body hovering over his as you leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss.

Both of your tongues were successfully colored purple and your drinks were no longer cold when you were done, but it was so worth it.

[vivid-bad-brainrot]

Present Apologies, Belated Apologies

Akito & Kohane

➔ After costing Vivid BAD SQUAD a win at a battle event, Akito’s guilt is evident but he’ll keep it inside himself to feign strength around others. Well, that’s what he would have done if Kohane wasn’t so adamant that he shouldn’t be sorry.

★ Wordcount: 2,129

☆ Fic takes place earlier in canon, probably a bit after bout for beside you

★ /p, can be interpreted as /r if you please

“Shinonome-kun, you always tell me I apologize too much but…” Kohane fumbled around with her fingers, attempting to find the right words to say, as if she were treading a tightrope rather than solid pavement. She met his gaze again, “I do find it a little hard to take you seriously when you do it even more. The thing is, you don't expect forgiveness. At all.”

Akito nearly stopped in his tracks entirely, “What?”

She smiled at him sheepishly with a subtle shrug, “I just…I don’t think you’ve said a sentence without the word ‘sorry’ in it since we left the venue.”

“Well, I am.” He huffed, looking at the road ahead of them again. “I totally screwed things up back there. Is this you trying to take the blame for it? I told you to stop doin’ that.”

His steps were undoubtedly heavier on the ground, it wouldn’t take a genius to notice that. With a grunt, he attempted to fix his composure so as to not look weak. Of all people, he didn’t want Kohane to see that side of him.

It had been strange lately. Kohane was his fuel, watching her improve so rapidly pushed him to reach for greater heights. Despite their differences in experience, oddly enough Akito felt this need to…impress her? No, not that. He wanted her to see him just as he saw her; someone who’s resolve was infectious, someone who you couldn’t bear to imagine pursuing your passions without.

Along with her developed confidence, Kohane had also grown unrelenting with time. With that, a sprinkle of stubbornness was always sprinkled into her speech. “It’s not fair of you to take the fall.”

“Well, who’s fault is it?” He attempted to keep his tone level. The last thing he wanted to do was to lash out at her. Kohane didn’t deserve that, just like he didn’t deserve her. How she somehow stayed by his side (even if it was just because of Vivids and BAD DOGS merging) despite how much of a prick he used to be towards her was beyond him. Kohane was the type of person he didn’t think had ever gotten angry in her life. He thought it would be good for her. Especially if she got mad at him. It was something that would suit him right.

“No one’s!” Kohane tried, sounding a little desperate. Screw Akito and his awful perception, sometimes he didn’t want to be able to tell what others thought about him. Sometimes, he hated that he even cared about trivial things like that in the first place. Those kinds of worries wouldn’t bring him any closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. They anchored him in the past.

He sort of regretted offering to walk her home after the event. Kohane lived the furthest away from Vivid Street out of them, closer to Miyamasuzaka for reasons that probably had to do with the proximity to her school and all. This meant that Kohane had ample time to refuse to accept his apologies. And it gave him an even longer time to mull over things.

As they reached a crosswalk and waited for their signal to cross, Kohane tugged on his sleeve to garner his attention, as if it was on anyone but her in the first place. The look on her face was so sincere, Akito honestly thought his self loathing was warping how he processed things. She should be mad at him. “Shinonome-kun…If it were me who had made that mistake during the show, what would you say to me?”

His voice had cracked during one of his solo parts, at the end of the prechorous where the hype had the strongest potential energy. It was so obvious, too, that he felt as if BROWN simply shouldn’t have let him in there in the first place. As a result of his complete blunder, it had costed Vivid BAD SQUAD their victory and shattered their winstreak.

The MCs would always set Vivid BAD SQUAD up as these teenage hotshots who’s talent rivaled long-time performers. In the couple months they’d been a team, they’d already built a name for themselves. Everyone had to do their part to uphold it. It was that reputation that allowed them to get into more famous livehouses were they could stand on the stage and walk in the footprints of the legends who had built Akito’s dream up from the bottom simply with the memories they had paved Vivid Street with. He couldn’t go out and destroy it, make them look like a liability to certain livehouses. Maybe a part of him was somehow attatched to the time he and Touya had spent performing together as BAD DOGS, when all sorts of livehouses would invite them to perform as some sort of sick comedy routine. To see some kids try to perform, expectations unfairly low.

Music was more of a battlefield than the soccer field could ever be. Music had taught him how to fight. It wasn’t until he had found Vivid BAD SQUAD and the vocaloids that it had taught him how to love.

Noticing how he completely zoned out, Kohane seized his wrist lightly (although he was sure she was holding him as tight as she could muster) and pretty much pulled him across the crosswalk. Oh, he needed to stop his pity party right now, because at this point Kohane was practically walking him to her house—not the other way around. He couldn’t waste her time like that.

They turn a corner, onto the street where Kohane lived. He hadn’t answered her question yet, but she wasn’t at all pushy. Not expectant that he answer it right away and still not mad at him for some reason.

If it were Kohane who had made his mistake…

“I would tell you to tough it out.” Akito said simply, “And not to go so hard on yourself if you were upset about it.”

“You would say that me,” She grinned at him and held her hands behind her back curtly, brown eyes nearing amber in the gold of the setting sun, “You’d say the same thing to An-chan and Aoyagi-kun, and you’d still find a way to shift the blame over to yourself.”

Akito halted and turned to face her entierly. He probably looked like he was drowning on air. Maybe it would have been better if he was.

“Why cant those words apply to yourself as well?” Kohane asked. “Why do you have to be sorry?”

“Because I…uhm—” Akito suddenly hated the fact he decided to wear so many layers. They had never felt so suffocating or that they were heavy with absorbed sweat (ew). He wavered for a few moments.

Now that he thought about it, usually he’s the one being blunt about the other person's problems, like An’s. She had been so stressed out about Kohane, so Akito decided it was his apparent right to help her discover how she actually felt about it all. But now, it’s as if the roles were reversed and now he was the one getting a slap in the face of a reality he hadn’t realized he’d be living in.

Hypocrite.

And it was Kohane who was telling him all of this. He never looked at Kohane—back when they had first met and she had her hair long and his face was in a permanent scowl—and ever once though they’d actually grow this close. Where they’d be having this conversation and Azusawa Kohane of all people could read him like a book. He didn’t even wear his heart on her sleeve like she did; she just knew him. A part of that was terrifying.

“I just….” He trailed off, at a loss.

“I hope it’s not coming off like I’m trying to dictate your emotions or anything—It’s really important to feel things!—I want you to know…it’s not just your burden anymore.”

“So, why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Eh?”

“Kohane, you have every right to be angry at me,” Akito breathed, looking down at the sidewalk under them. “I don’t understand…why you’re so good to me.”

Kohane’s face wrinkled in confusion as she tilted her head at him.

“I never apologized for being an asshole to you, when I questioned your resolve every chance I got. I never apologized to you for calling you a shrimp and all those other things. You deserve so many apologies. It’s why I tell you not to apologize to me over stupid things. ‘Cause I should be the one apologizing to you instead.”

Kohane blinked. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Im sorry for everything—“

“Shinonome-kun.” She said firmly, sending an unfamiliar jolt up and down his body. She placed her hands on his shoulders and huffed, “When you said all those things to me, that wasn’t the you I know now. And, um, if you ask me, you said those words to a completely different person, too.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything I did, though.” Akito protested, and Kohane shook her head.

“You and An-chan are always preaching about moving forward, right? ”

“Yes…” Then, Akito realized, “Oh.”

He wasn’t the type to get so in his head about little things—especially if they were far behind him. But Kohane…she brought out this side of himself he hadn’t realized existed…or maybe the parts of himself he had been trying to shut out. He was a big proponent of the idea that if you couldn’t go back in time to change things…there was no point in worrying that much about it. Like most things, it was far easier said than done.

“Besides,” Kohane removed her hands from his shoulders at last with a heavy breath. She ran a finger through a pigtail, “I think I forgave you the moment I cut my hair.”

Kohane started walking again so Akito followed along like a lost puppy. They stepped onto her front porch just as the sun dipped under the horizon.

“Will your parents be angry that you’re coming home so late?” He asked, knowing it was his fault for keeping her out later than necessary. “Touya’s dad gets real pissy when he’s out late, so…”

“They’re used to it by now.” Kohane replied with an airy laugh, bending down to lift the doormat up and grab the key from under it. “My dad says for every hour past curfew I stay up, I owe him one picture with my camera.”

“Oh.” Akito scratched his nape. “I’m sorry for keeping you for so long.”

“Shinonome-kun, it’s really rude to ignore everything I’ve been saying.” She crosses her arms indignantly, but her face tells a completely other story; a lighthearted one.

He didn’t know why after all of this, he still wanted to tell her ‘no’.

So close to the door, they might as well be stalling time to stay in each other's gazes, like it was an honor to be embraced by the attention of the other. “Even if you forgave me…that doesn’t mean I deserve to be forgiven.”

“You do.” She said earnestly. “When it first happened, I really…was hurt by it all. But, we both watched each other as we grew into better people. And I hope we continue to do that by each other’s sides.”

She looked down, suddenly shy and twiddled with the key in her hands, watching the porch-light be reflected on the metalic material. “I really admire you, Shinonome-kun. So, I want you to be able to forgive yourself as well. Can you promise me you’ll try to do that?”

I admire your courage to be so forgiving, he thought, but settled with, “I’ll try. I…” he wasn’t the best at verbally communicating how he felt, so he probably sounded strained as he told her, “I admire you as well.”

She looked a little surprised. Even he was a little bit. He was normally as blunt as a knife, but when it came to…emotions, his edge was dulled with ease.

“That settles it, then.” Kohane decided. She opened her arms up, but quickly glued them at her sides with the flush of her cheeks.

“Go ahead,” He said, even though he felt a little embarrassed at the prospect of giving someone the clear to hug him. Kohane echoed his feelings, but eventually wrapped him into a hug. Huh. It was a little strange they’d never hugged before…

Instead of saying sorry, he uttered a small, “Thank you,” Into the crown of her hair. “For giving me a chance to grow as well.

She whispered into his shoulder, “I think you’ve been feeling really guilty for a really long time.”

“Maybe.”

“At the end of the day, we’re not that different from each other. We both just want to prove ourselves. It drives you mad, too, doesn’t it?”

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

me stubbornly forcing myself to drink green tea and rest from my THIRD COLD THIS MONTH

[eri-pl]

Consider: an exchange program.

The Greek mythology gets Melkor and the Silm gets Hermes.

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: Elain heads back to Velaris for Christmas after rejecting Graysen's marriage proposal.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: mentions of dv (please see authors note below), smattering of smut (18+ pls)

Missed the first six chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: *peaks out from the hole I've been hiding in* heyyyy  😅

Once again, I must begin by saying thank you for all your lovely comments and messages about this fic and all the others. I cannot appreicate how much it means to me. A special thank you to everyone who's checked in with me over the past few months and given me kindess, support, and patience. There are some lovely people on this app and I am so honoured that you choose to read and engage with my fic.

Please note that there is a very brief mention of domestic violence in this chapter within the context of a conversation. If that's something you'd rather skip reading, please feel free to do what's best for you.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

The fire was dwindling down, empty cups were scattered on every available surface, Christmas music played over the speakers, and wrapping paper was strewn on the floor of Azriel’s living room. 

It’d been a Christmas like all the others - drinking and eating and lots of gifts exchanged, though Nyx had made out the best of  anyone, spoiled rotten by all of his aunties and uncles. They’d played a few games, exchanged a bit of gossip about mutual acquaintances, and throughout all the festivities, Azriel had kept a careful eye on Elain. 

He watched her now, his brows pulling together above the rim of the whisky glass he’d raised up to his lips. She was sitting quietly in her usual spot on his couch, lazily tracing circles around the rim of her nearly empty wine glass. 

There was something different about her tonight that he couldn't quite place but he was determined to figure out. While everyone else had been enjoying themselves, he could sense a peculiar cloud of something sad that seemed to follow Elain around no matter how hard she tried to smile and laugh and pretend like everything was okay when it was clear - to him, at least - that things were far from fine.

His first sign that something was wrong was when Elain had walked into his house earlier, avoiding eye contact and barely even bothering with a proper hug as she muttered a ‘Merry Christmas’ and a ‘thank you for hosting’ all while hiding behind a pile of gifts stacked tall in her arms. Even when she'd come back home with Graysen in tow she hadn't held back from him like that and her iciness had caught him completely off guard. 

He’d been so anxious to see her again after all this time, that he hadn’t fully considered the reality of the situation. Azriel knew that the last time they’d seen each other had been tense but it hadn't ended badly by any means. And sure, he hadn't spoken to her properly in well over half a year but she replied to his sparse texts and he still woke up to a voice note from her on his birthday so he’d figured that that had to count for something. That maybe that was to be their new normal. He’d resigned himself to taking what he could get - that’s what he’d told her after all on Nesta’s porch that night. He wanted her in his life in whatever way he could have her. 

The second thing to clue him in that something was wrong was that right after she’d placed the presents under the Christmas tree, Elain had made a beeline to the kitchen and poured herself a shot of whatever bottle of alcohol her eyes had landed on first.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to seeing her drink, although she’d certainly never been a drinker in the way the rest of their friend group indulged, but he’d never once seen her drink like this - knocking back shot after shot when she thought no one was watching. It was rare for her to even pour a drink without asking if she could. Almost a decade of knowing her and Elain always asked permission no matter how many times he insisted that she help herself to whatever she wanted. 

Azriel had counted at least seven trips to the kitchen tonight - all for a drink, none for food. Even the speciality cheese she adored and that he’d purchased just for her after she confirmed her attendance, sat untouched. But for having downed a minimum of seven drinks, she didn’t really appear to be all that drunk. He had to give her credit because she held her alcohol surprisingly well - the only real give away that she was drunk was a slight stumble as she stood up from the sofa the last time she went to the kitchen and a droop to her eyelids that could be attributed to exhaustion.

Elain had sat quietly most of the night, speaking only when spoken to and channelling most of her attention on Nyx when he’d been awake but now that her nephew was fast asleep on the sofa next to her, Shadow curled up at his feet, she had no real distraction and Azriel watched curiously as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, opening her mouth a dozen times as if to speak only to seemingly decide against it and retreat back into herself. 

He’d planned on once again cornering her to try and figure out what the hell was going on and to see if there was absolutely anything he could do to ease whatever clearly ailed her. He’d intended to follow her into the kitchen the next time she went to drown her sorrows but he never got the chance because after a prolonged moment of silence amongst the group - she finally spoke. 

Azriel all but froze as Elain cleared her throat and wrung her hands together in her lap, tugging at the sleeves of the long sleeved black top she was wearing. Her empty glass of wine had been carefully placed on the coffee table in front of her.

“Graysen proposed,” she hiccupped, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears as she delivered her news without even a second of preamble. 

The two words were softly spoken and she’d said them in one breath with no break in between but Azriel heard her loud and clear.

His stomach dropped, the three or four drinks he’d consumed turned sour in his stomach and did very little to ease the pain of his heart slamming against his chest as Nesta and Feyre began firing off question after question - all of which were ignored by Elain and none of which he could actually hear over the incessant buzzing in his ears. 

He prayed that he’d heard her wrong. Prayed that there was no way she’d actually said what he thought she’d said. It wasn’t until he saw Feyre reach for Elain’s left hand that Azriel forced himself to focus, his eyes zeroing in on her fingers - at the vacant space where one would expect to find a ring after an announcement such as the one Elain had just made. 

“I said no,” she whispered, catching Feyre’s confused expression as her sister’s index finger slid over Elain’s bare skin. 

No. 

She’d said no. She’d said no. She’d said no. 

Azriel repeated the words to himself over and over again as it was his own personal mantra, drilling it into his head as he finally allowed himself to breathe. He couldn’t look at her face, couldn’t bear to find out what expression he’d find there. All he could do was stare at her hand - at that perfect, unadorned finger - no glimmering diamond to be found. 

“A few months ago,” he heard her tell the girls. 

“Why’d you say no?” Nesta asked, her voice soft although Azriel could hear the smallest inkling of relief in it that mirrored his own feelings. He wondered if maybe Nesta had seen through Graysen’s facade as well and had quietly hoped that her cousin would come to her senses and leave him. 

Azriel tore his attention away from Elain’s fingers and up to her face only to watch as her eyes lifted to meet his for a fleeting moment before she quickly looked away from him and back to Nesta. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “We hadn’t even talked about it and I was caught so off guard. It just didn’t feel right.” She took a deep, staggering breath, Azriel could see the shimmer of tears beginning to well along her lash line. “I don’t think I ever really loved him…. I never really like them all that much.”

She said the last part to herself, a drunken admission whispered to the floor. It was a confession that she’d spent her entire adult life with men that she didn’t even truly care for. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to wonder why she did what she did or why she’d finally admitted it. He wouldn’t let himself consider that maybe she found herself staying in meaningless relationship after meaningless relationship for the same reason he found himself avoiding them all together. 

“I think… I think I may need to lay down,” Elain muttered after a moment of tense, awkward silence. It was clear that no one in the room quite knew what to say or do. Feyre and Nesta were staring at her dumbfounded. Cassian and Rhys were exchanging mildly panicked looks as they tried to figure out what to do in this situation. “I feel a little dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Come upstairs,” Azriel was on his feet before he could even think to stop himself, speaking without even consciously meaning to as he bypassed Feyre and Nesta to get to Elain. He stepped forward, one hand outstretched towards her. 

He didn't miss the look Feyre gave Nesta. A silent enquiry as to whether they should let him take her upstairs - as if the two of them knew what had happened the last time he and Elain had been left alone on Christmas. Nesta just nodded, one subtle dip of her chin that had Feyre watching in stunned silence as Elain placed her hand in Azriel’s. 

Neither of the girls had ever said anything to him about that night other than to acknowledge that Elain had, in fact, flown home the following morning. An emergency at work was the flimsy excuse Nesta had given him the following day when he’d called her and done his best to enquire about Elain’s whereabouts without raising any suspicion. 

Azriel carefully pulled Elain up, keeping her hand in his as his other arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright as he slowly and carefully led her up his stairs, guiding her to the guest room a couple doors down from his own bedroom. 

He flipped back the duvet and sat her down on the bed. He could feel her eyes on him as she silently watched him lower himself to his knees so he could unzip her boots and slide them off her feet. 

“Lay back,” he tapped gently on her calf, hands hovering around her in case she needed help. 

“Not the first time you��ve said that to me,” Elain quipped, flopping back in a less than graceful manner before turning onto her side to face him. There was the tiniest smirk on her lips, the smallest bit of amusement shining in her sad eyes. He almost found himself smiling at the drunken comment until her expression changed, those pretty lips of hers turning down at the corners. 

“Az.. will you stay with me? After everyone goes?” 

Azriel grimaced, ignoring the pull from the part of his heart that was ready and willing to bend to her every whim. “I can’t, Elain.” 

“Why?” Her eyebrows pulled together to create a small crease on her forehead. He fought the urge to reach out and smooth away that visible line of tension with a gentle pass of his thumb. “You always used to stay with me.” 

“It’s different now,” he exhaled, shoulders dropping as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. “You’re not mine, Elain.”

“That’s not true,” Elain frowned, fighting to keep her eyes open. “I’ve always been yours.” She said it with every bit of drunken sincerity in the world, whispered soft and sweet even as she lost the battle to sleep and her eyes began to flutter shut. 

Her words were like a knife to his heart. He knew she never would’ve said it if the amount of alcohol in her bloodstream didn’t outweigh her good senses. He had no idea whether she’d even remember any of this in the morning. 

“Why did you stay with him? If you didn’t love him? If you didn’t like any of the others? Why would you stay with them?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask, going against his better judgement to seek an explanation for the questions that had haunted him for years even if he knew that whatever answer she gave him, it was unlikely to offer him any semblance of peace. 

“It’s easier to pretend if there’s someone else,” Elain’s hands came up to her throat, her fingertips mindlessly searching for something. She frowned when she came up empty, her nails digging into the space between her collarbones instead. The sight unsettled Azriel enough to momentarily distract him from what she’d just said. 

The necklace he’d given her on her birthday a few years ago, the one she’d worn religiously every day since, the one that tethered her to him, was missing from her neck and it was like a punch to his gut. 

“The chain broke,” Elain whispered, having followed his line of sight to where he’d been openly staring at the place the gold pendant had sat against her skin for half a decade. “It’s in my bag, I was hoping you’d be able to fix it.”

Azriel nodded, relieved that she hadn’t actually taken the necklace off herself. He stood there, arms hanging uselessly at his side for a couple more seconds until her eyelids drifted shut once again. He walked towards the door, deciding to let her sleep this off, but he paused before he could leave, turning towards her once more. 

He thought maybe he was a sadist because asking these questions, pushing for these answers, would only serve to expand that ever growing crack in his heart. Still, he couldn't seem to help himself. 

“Lain?” Part of him hoped that she’d already drifted off to sleep, that she wouldn’t answer and he wouldn’t get to ask his question and have to hear her response.. 

“Yeah, Az?” The corner of her eyes crinkled as she looked at him, squinting. 

“What did you mean?” He asked. “When you said it’s easier to pretend?”

She paused for a moment, teeth scraping over her bottom lip as she turned so she was on her back, her eyes focused on the ceiling. 

“When I’m with someone else,” she started, voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear her over the music carrying up the stairs and under the gap in the door. “It’s easier to distract myself from the fact that sometimes I want you so badly, I think it might kill me.” 

The ache in his chest was so sharp and so immediate that he had to grip the handle on the door harder just to feel like he had some sort of control over his body. He had no idea what to do with that information. Had no idea what to say back. He’d waited what felt like a lifetime to hear her say those words to him, he’d just never imagined that it would be so painful. 

He couldn’t speak, could barely even remember his name. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been silent until he noticed that she’d fallen asleep, her head now tilted towards him. 

Azriel set his shoulders and backed out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath, pushing back every bit of emotion that he felt, before slowly making his way back downstairs.

Elain stuck an arm out from under the covers, her fingers blindly reaching to her nightstand for her phone. It wasn’t until she felt the sharp corner of a wooden surface instead of the rounded edge of her own bedside table that she realised that she wasn’t at home in her own bed. She peeked out from under the covers, taking in her surroundings with one blurry eye. 

Light was beginning to filter in through a pair of cream curtains covering a rather large window. The bed she was in was comfy and not completely unfamiliar, the bed linen looked similar to a set that she’d helped Azriel choose back when they’d gone shopping for… 

“Fuck,” Elain groaned, sitting up and dragging her hands over her face. 

She wasn’t at home. She wasn’t in her designated room at her sister’s house. No - she’d been fast asleep in Azriel’s guest bedroom. 

It didn’t take much to figure out just how she’d ended up here. The pounding in her head and the dryness in her mouth were enough to tell her that she’d maybe taken it a little too far with the alcohol last night.

She’d started drinking before they’d even left Feyre’s, just a couple of glasses while getting ready that she told herself were for liquid courage. She’d known the second that they pulled into Azriel’s driveway that she’d need far more to get through seeing him again under a whole new set of circumstances that only she was privy to and so she’d thrown caution to the wind and had been throwing back drinks any chance she got. 

She really hadn’t even been planning on telling anyone about the proposal but after an hour or so of drinking, she’d felt the urge to say it - to let them know what had happened. To let them know she and Graysen were done. Elain couldn’t remember much past the moment she’d drunkenly blurted out the news.. she remembered Feyre and Nesta’s surprised faces and the faraway look on Azriel’s face when she’d dared to glance at him but everything past that moment seemed to be a blur. 

If she really tried to push for details, she could vaguely remember being helped up the stairs because she was too far gone to manage on her own but that was all her hungover brain could string together.

“Lain?” The low register of Azriel’s morning voice rumbled through the door as a knock lightly sounded on the surface. “You up? Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, come in!” She called back, wincing at how sore her voice sounded in her ears.

Elain sat up, quickly running a hand through her tangled hair as she propped up a pillow behind her and let the duvet fall to her waist. It was so much colder in this room than she’d expected and she didn’t fully register why until Azriel walked in. 

“Morning, how you feeling? I brought some -” he’d been halfway through his sentence, sleepy eyes scanning over her until they widened at the exact same time the tips of his ears went red. 

She’d lost her top at some point during the night - something she hadn’t realised until the cold morning air had hit her bare skin. Azriel turned around quickly, the glass of water in his hand sloshing over slightly with the speed at which he averted his gaze.  “Fuck. Sorry! I thought.. You said to come in and I thought… fuck .” 

Elain quickly tugged the sheets back up to her chin, fighting the urge to pull them over her head altogether and suffocate herself from embarrassment. Twice now, she’d woken up in Azriel’s house on the day after Christmas naked in one of his beds. Maybe next year she’d check off the last remaining room. 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise I - wait, you can turn around…” she fumbled with her words, watching as he slowly turned to face her. His cheeks were pink and the hand that wasn’t cradling a glass of water and an entire pack of headache tablets came up to fidget with the worn neck of the old t-shirt he’d chucked on this morning. “I always get so hot at night and I usually sleep with a fan and I just must’ve… taken it off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I should’ve gotten you a change of clothes but I didn’t want to…” he trailed off, coming closer to hand her the water as he opened up the packet of tablets and slipped out a few. “I barely saw anything, if that helps.” 

Elain took the tablets from him. “Barely anything, huh?”

She took a small bit of satisfaction from the way he frowned in confusion before he caught on, the blush that had finally subsided from his cheeks came back full force. 

“ Not what I meant,” Azriel shook his head, raking a hand through his hair as she tossed back the tablets. “There’s plenty to see… just the right amount.”

“I’d stop speaking now if I were you,” Elain rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the tablets and the water and for letting me stay the night.”

“It’s nothing,” Azriel shrugged, gingerly sitting on the very edge of the bed. His eyes scanned over her again, lingering on the bare skin of her shoulder that had escaped the cover of the duvet before they slid to her fingers and then back up to her face. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“Could be better,” she answered, realising that she hadn’t actually gotten around to responding the first time he’d asked her. “Can’t drink like I used to, I suppose.”

“You’ve never drank like that, Lain.” Azriel chuckled. “I think that’s part of the problem.”

He was right. She was notoriously a lightweight when it came to alcohol and had never needed more than four or five drinks before she was just the right amount of drunk. 

“A shower and some food and I’ll feel brand new,” she sighed. 

“I’ll grab you a towel and some clothes,” he nodded, fingers mindlessly tapping at his knee. “Have a shower and come down, I’ll make you some breakfast and then if you’re up for it we can go over to the studio and I’ll fix your necklace. Fresh air might do you some good.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Az. I’ll call Feyre to pick me up and get out of your way.” Elain started to look around for where she might’ve tossed her top, suddenly anxious that she’d been here too long. That she was eating into his day, once again taking up time that she didn’t deserve. 

“I know that I don’t have to, Elain. I want to.” He insisted, voice gentle as ever as he looked over at her. “You aren’t in my way.”

Elain didn’t say anything, just looked down at her lap as he stood up, adjusting the waistband of the plaid pajama pants he had on. “Chocolate chip or blueberry?” 

“What?”

“Pancakes,” Azriel clarified, a shy grin on his lips. “Chocolate chip or blueberry?” 

“Blueberry, please.” Elain couldn’t help but mirror her grin, especially when her stomach audibly grumbled at the mere mention of food. 

An hour or so later, Elain sat quietly, perched  on a bench top in Azriel’s workshop. She was warm from the scorching shower she’d taken and clothed in an assortment of clothes that he’d handed her with a towel this morning - his shirt, his sweatpants… a lacy pair of underwear she recognised as the ones she hadn’t bothered to search for when she’d snuck out of his house the previous year.

She watched him as he took a seat, sliding a frame of protective glasses over his eyes before he fired up a small torch. He situated himself, leaning forward as he began to carefully solder Elain’s necklace back together. 

She told herself she was just watching a master at work but her attention had drifted from the actual work being done to focus on the movement of his deft fingers, the shifting muscles of his strong back and shoulders. She studied the side of his face - the slope of his nose, the concentrated furrow of his brows, the way his lips pressed together as he worked. 

She didn’t realise just how intensely she’d been staring at him until she found herself looking into his actual eyes rather than just his side profile. Elain quickly sat up straight, rolling her shoulders as she lowered her eyes and tried to keep her cheeks from flooding with colour. 

“You said the necklace broke while you were changing,” Azriel stood up, pushing his glasses back, using them like a headband to keep his thick hair off of his forehead. It was ridiculous that he managed to look good even like that. 

“The way the chain was broken,” he spoke carefully as he approached her. “It didn’t look like a simple snag, it looked like there was some force behind it. 

Elain swallowed, her cheeks now burning for an entirely different reason. She turned to look out of the window to her right, pretending to watch the snow as it drifted lazily from the cold, gray sky. 

“Lain?” Azriel tried again. He was standing in front of her now, just inches from her knees. “How did the necklace really break?”

Elain paused, unsure how to proceed or what to even say. She couldn’t lie to him. Not again. She’d told herself in the shower this morning - after she’d had a small cry and wallowed in self pity - that this needed to be a new start, that she couldn’t keep shutting him out. Especially now that she no longer had the excuse of having a boyfriend in the picture. 

“Graysen… he didn’t like the necklace very much,” she started. “He always had an issue with it, even before he met you. He didn’t like that I never took it off or that it was from a friend . It only got worse after he came home with me and saw us and then when I… when he proposed and I said no, he said that if I didn’t want to accept the ring, I needed to take off the necklace. I guess to prove that I cared about him even if I didn’t want to marry him just yet.” 

“You didn’t take the necklace off,” Azriel stated, eyes boring into her even though she couldn’t quite bring herself to look back at him. 

“I couldn’t do it,” Elain’s voice shook slightly as she thought back to that night. “He obviously wasn’t happy with my choice and so he just… he reached forward and pulled it off of me.”

Elain’s eyes were shut, her heart racing at the memory of how she’d felt that night. How alone she’d been, how momentarily afraid. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Azriel that she’d woken to a small, raised scar on the side of her neck the next morning. She hadn’t realised that she’d been crying until Azriel’s hand cupped her face, the rough pad of his thumb gently sweeping across her cheek to brush away hot tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

“What are you apologising for?” Azriel asked. 

She could hear the restraint in his voice, the underlying anger that he carried on her behalf. 

“I don’t know,” Elain finally looked at him, giving him a sad smile. “I’ve just been so awful to you for so long now.” 

“You haven’t,” he assured her. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Lain. I just hope you know that how he acted - pulling this off of you - that’s not okay. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“I shouldn’t have led him on…” she shook her head. “I wasted his time. I wasted yours… he was right to be angry with me.” 

“Look at me,” Azriel demanded, palm sliding from her cheek down to her jaw so that he could tilt her face up towards his. “None of that matters.”

“It does though because I -” 

“Elain, did he ever…” Elain’s eyes travelled to the clench of his jaw, the way his throat flexed as he trailed off. “If he put his hands on you…” 

“No, Az.” Elain lifted her hand up to cover his where it still cradled her face. “There were words occasionally and he’d… when we… never mind,” she blushed, swallowing away the bitterness at remembering what the sex had been like after an argument or whenever he’d been jealous. “It was never… he never hit me.” She said finally.

Elain studied Azriel’s face carefully. Let him see that she was okay. That the only marker that anything had happened was a broken necklace that was easily mended. 

She knew where his mind had gone - knew his fears of her being treated the same way his mother had been treated. 

He’d confided in her years ago - told her about what he’d witnessed growing up and the anger he felt towards the man he didn’t even care to call father. Explained how ashamed he felt at being too small to really be able to do anything to help. 

Elain couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling like that again. Certainly not over her. 

“Azriel,” she squeezed his fingers to get his full attention. “He didn’t hurt me. I promise.” 

“Okay,” he nodded eventually, worried eyes meeting hers for one more moment as if to confirm that she was in fact unharmed before he leaned back and picked up her necklace from where he’d sat it on the bench next to her hip. “Here, just like new.” 

Elain didn’t reach for the necklace, instead she just gave him a shy smile and echoed the question she’d asked him when he first presented her with this necklace all those years ago. “Put it on me?” 

Azriel returned her smile with one just as shy, waiting as she gathered her hair and twisted it up to move it out of the way. His hands slipped around her neck, the chain cold against her skin. 

Azriel’s head dipped so that he could see what he was doing, his cheek skimming her hair as he took his time fastening the necklace. She’d missed the feeling, the reassuarance that the small bit of gold nestled against her chest provided her. 

“Last night… Did you mean what you said?” His question was so quiet, half hushed by the way his face was tilted into her hair. 

“Oh god,” she groaned, dread seeping through her veins. 

She’d been wondering all morning what had happened last night, had been trying to fill in the blanks between the bits she could remember… which wasn’t all that much. She was scared to even ask - afraid to know all the ways she might’ve embarrassed herself the previous night. “I don’t really remember what was said, to be honest.” 

He finally pulled back and straightened up, hands reaching forward to gently maneuver the necklace until it sat just right around her neck. Each brush of his fingers against her skin made her shiver in a way that she couldn’t possibly hide from him. 

The way that he was looking at her certainly didn’t help. Neither did the drag of his thumb against her neck, right over a pulsing vein that gave away her racing heart. 

“Right,” Azriel gave her a nervous smile that made her stomach drop in anticipation. “When Nesta asked you why you said no…”

“I do remember that part,” she cut him off, unable to bear hearing it again although she knew it could only get worse. 

“Well, when it was just us upstairs, after you’d asked me to stay -”

“Jesus, Az, I’m sorry -”

“Not something to apologise for,” the fingers of his other hand tapped out a pattern on her knee that caused yet another shiver to zip up her spine. “I asked you why you stayed with Graysen or with any of the others if you didn’t even actually like them and you told me that it was easier to do that than admit that you, um… wanted me.”

Elain bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced away from him yet again.

“Is that true?” Azriel prodded her for an answer and when she found the courage to look at him again, the look in his eyes, the unmistakable heat, threatened to stop her heart altogether. 

“What happens if I say yes?” She felt breathless, a little dizzy. Just like she felt a year ago when she’d been in a very similar situation - sat on a countertop, Azriel standing in between her knees. Their entire world balancing on a precipice. 

She wasn’t sure when she’d started to lean into his touch. Couldn’t pinpoint when her face had moved so close to his that his nose practically grazed hers. She had no way to tell if he had leaned down or if she had keened upwards, her body arching up to him like a flower seeking the sun. She didn’t know when any of it had happened but she didn’t fight it as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in anticipation. 

Waiting. Wanting.

He didn’t answer her, only smoothed his thumb over her throat once more before repeating his own question. “Is it true, Elain?” 

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice verging on desperation. 

Azriel swallowed once, eyes tracing a slow path from her eyes to her lips before he answered her with action. 

Their lips met, clumsily at first though they fell into rhythm quickly, muscle memory kicking in as their mouths came together in a way that bordered on frantic. Her hands tangled in his hair while his ventured to her waist, pulling her into him while simultaneously pushing her further back onto the workbench until she was practically flat against it, his body pressing hers down.

“Elain…” Azriel’s voice was almost pained as he said her name, his lips coasting along her jaw, a different kind of restraint in his tone than the restraint he’d spoken with a few minutes before.

“Please,” she all but whimpered, desperate to feel his lips on hers again. 

“Can’t do this if you’re going to run again afterwards, Elain.” He told her, his hands still wandering, sliding under the soft fabric of the shirt she wore. His shirt. 

“I mean… my flight is booked for tomorrow,” she couldn’t help but joke, squealing and squirming as his fingers pressed into her side as punishment. 

“S’not funny,” he grumbled. 

“Sorry, sorry…” she schooled her face into a serious expression. “I do have to go tomorrow but it won’t be because of this, Az. Not this time. I promise.”

“We have a lot of talking to do,” Azriel told her, all the while his hands travelled further up her torso until his fingers grazed the soft skin of her breasts. 

Just that slight touch had her tugging him down towards her as she leaned further back once more, presenting herself to him. His for the taking. 

“Later,” she told him. “Talk later.”

She knew it was stupid  - to once again go down this route without having properly spoken about what they were doing. What this was. If it was even anything. All she knew was that she was tired of pretending. Tired of being afraid of the unknowns, of the what ifs. She wished she had any idea how this would all end, how it would play out. But that was a conversation for another day. Right now, all she wanted, all she needed , was this.  

“Later,” Azriel agreed, smiling into the crook of her neck before coming back up to kiss her again. This time it was unrushed, almost lazy. He took his time familiarising himself with her mouth the same way he took his time circling her nipples with his thumbs. She moaned into his mouth - half at the blissful feeling of his hands on her skin, half at the memory of what that same motion had felt like when he’d slid his hand up under her skirt the last time they’d done this. 

“Always want you like this,” she admitted, mind hazy as his mouth travelled down her neck and over her sternum as he pushed up her t-shirt until his lips were on the bare skin of her stomach. 

“Yeah?” his fingers tucked into the waistband of her sweatpants, tugging them down as she lifted her hips to aid in the process. Her underwear was pulled to the side, his fingers gliding over her entirely too easily with how wet she was for him. She heard him swear under his breath, in awe at his effect on her.

“Always,” she reiterated, gasping as he slowly slid a finger inside her. “For you. Always like this for you. Az, please can we just -”

She was speaking complete gibberish, anxious to get what she’d been coveting all this time even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. She didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Don’t have a condom with me,” he told her with a kiss to the inside of her thigh as he continued to touch her. She was distracted from her disappointment when he added another finger - tested the stretch of her. 

“You don’t have any here?” The lack of a condom hadn’t been an issue last time but it had been a year and she knew Azriel had a rotation of girls that he occasionally saw so when he didn’t follow up with a but I haven’t been with anyone, she didn’t let herself linger on it for too long. 

“Don’t really make it a habit to have sex in my workplace very often, or ever, to be honest. Safety concerns and all…” he trailed off, his breath hot over where she ached for his touch. “So this might just have to do for now, wanna make you co-”

His words were cut off by a shrill ring from somewhere besides them. 

“Ignore it,” she told him, hips tilting up in search of more as she flung a hand out to the side in search of her phone. Her fingers blindly fumbled on the screen until the ringing stopped. 

Azriel continued, fingers curling in just the right way as he circled her clit with his tongue - ever so slowly bringing her closer and closer to the edge. 

“Az, oh my God, I think, I think -” Elain gasped, grasping at his hair. She wanted to tell him she was close, to not stop, that she was going to come. But the shrill ring of her phone sounded again, effectively ruining the moment.

“You should probably get that,” Azriel reluctantly pulled away, fingers slipping out of her. He sighed deeply, forehead resting against her bare thigh as she reached for her phone and glanced at the screen. 

Two missed calls and fourteen unread texts. If it wasn’t for previous trauma of missed calls and texts, she might’ve let it go and urged Azriel to continue. She tapped on the screen a little harder than necessary.

“Hello, Nesta.” Elain huffed as she sat up, gently pushing Azriel away as she adjusted her underwear and pulled her pants up and her shirt back down. 

Azriel grinned, shamelessly watching as Elain made herself decent to speak to her sister while she tried to pretend like she hadn’t been splayed out on his workbench half naked, with his mouth in between her thighs mere moments ago. 

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been texting you all morning, it’s almost one in the afternoon. I’m glad to know you’re alive.” Nesta rattled off, exasperated. “Azriel wasn’t answering his phone either.” 

“I’m alive. I’m with him. I’ll be home soon.” Elain’s words were short. She couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice at having their time so rudely interrupted. 

She knew the moment was over, that she’d need to go back to her sisters and explain herself. God knows they’d be anxiously waiting for answers now that she’d sobered up. But her disappointment faded because the way Azriel was watching her with bright, happy eyes and lips swollen from kissing her more than made up for it. 

She half listened to whatever Nesta was saying, too focused on the man in front of her - his dark, messy hair. His broad shoulders and strong arms. His calloused hands. All those tattoos that snaked up his arms and over his chest - old, familiar ones and a few new pieces that she longed to learn about. His enviably long eyelashes. Those kind emerald flecked eyes.

This was Azriel. Her Azriel. Her best friend. 

How could she have ever thought this was anything but exactly right?

[mistmarigold]

What if Sunjae didn’t die that night? Part 2 (lovely runner au)

[Read Part 1 here.]

For the past four days, Sunjae kept thinking about his conversation with Sol’s mother and her invite. The fact that he had been aiming to retire and Inhyuk knew, things had been rife with tension and bitterness. Sunjae’s mind hadn’t changed but for the time being, it was decided that he will take a break from all work commitments for a few days and then they would decide what to do next.

He stared at his phone, finger hovering over Bok-soon’s number. For a moment, his mind drifted to their radio interview when he had called Sol. The memory of that time - of Sol’s grief hiding behind her anger - made him throw the phone on the other side of the couch.

With what right was he going to their house? To rekindle the relationship that was never there? Or to remind her of the person who could’ve saved her from a life of disability but chose not to because of his silly crush?

His fist clenched and his heart ached. All he wanted was for all of this to stop - he didn’t want to go on any longer with all these memories, with the weight that he could’ve protected her, with her words ringing in his ears asking him why he saved her. With her gratitude and her damn smile that he wished would never leave him.

His phone vibrated, indicating a text message. It was from his manager.

“We’ve an official meeting on Wednesday about your decision, please take this time and think through it.”

Sunjae put the phone back, he didn’t really care much about his art anymore. It got too tiring a couple of years ago and he no longer had the energy to keep up with this sham of a life; a life of luxury after ruining Sol’s.

For so many weeks - no, years - he thought about calling Sol after that radio interview. He knew her number and he wanted to check in on her, to assure himself that she was still alive, breathing the same air as him, that she held on and lived. But he never found the courage to press that call button. What he could do though was make art about her and hope that one day day, she would know that all he was, it was because she existed for a brief moment in his life and changed his entire trajectory. He was an artist because of her.

In the black screen of his phone, he found his reflection with a soft smile on his phone. So small, it was barely there at first glance. It left him startled - how long had it been since he found himself smiling like this? A genuine smile for no one’s eyes.

Seeing Sol as his fan, it upset him at first because of the disconnect perhaps. To her, he was a stranger, a celebrity. To him, she had been his first love. Reconciling the two - it made his heart hurt.

But then again, because she was his fan, she knew and had heard all the songs that he wrote for her, about her. All the things he couldn’t say to her as Sunjae, she still heard them all from Ryu Sunjae.

A tiny part of him wanted to tell her right that second that all of his art was for her. She has been his muse since that first meeting under the yellow umbrella.

He knew things would change after his retirement. What would Sol think about it? He remembered her mom’s words. Will she be upset about it?

His gaze fell upon the jar of candy Sol had given him - she didn’t even know that he liked it because of her. He picked it up from the table and grabbed one from there. For a minute second, he looked at his phone. Then back to the candy in his hand. Another look between the two and he rushed to pick up his phone, took a deep breath and called Sol’s mother.

He clutched the candy tighter in his hand.

The phone kept ringing. On the fourth ring, he was about to cut the call, dejected, when someone picked it up.

“Hello?”

His breath hitched.

“Hello, who is it there?” Sol asked again.

His grip on his phone tightened too but he managed to utter a few words.

“Is this Ms Bok-Soon’s number?”

On the other side, Sol went quiet.

After a beat too long, she finally said, “Who is speaking?”

He wondered if she recognised his voice. But then shook his head because why would she? Even being a fan has its limits.

He was about to answer when he heard the hustling and murmurs of the mother-daughter exchange.

“Hello, this is Bok-soon,” Sol’s mother said.

Sunjae took a deep breath, disappointment and relief coursing through him at the same time.

“Hello, this is Ryu Sunjae. I wanted to ask if your invite is still valid?” he blurted out before he could lose the wisp of reckless selfishness and give in to his despair and guilt.

She gasped, “of course! You’re always welcome. Are you free tonight?”

“I am, will it be fine if I come?” He asked, tentatively.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry! It’ll be fine. I’ll see you later tonight then! Call me if there are any issues.”

Sunjae sighed and thanked her before she hung up.

He wasn’t sure what was it but he felt light. Lighter than he felt in ages - his brain wasn’t fumbling, he didn’t feel disoriented and his heart was galloping but not from anxiety. On the contrary, it felt as if something was finally falling in place.

[Part 3 here].

[oh-biwan]

[rattling cage] Do you have any Obikin fics that you've enjoyed? Your beautiful art made me slip right down the ship rabbit hole and now I need recs, any rating/theme.

-blushes, clears throat- Hi!

I like a lot of different flavors but, to keep it simple, I'll try to match my recommendations to the theme I'm cultivating on this blog so far.

First of all, I have to mention skyl_tales, they wrote some of the absolute Obikin classics and I love their work, it's very dear to me. If you haven't read anything from them yet, I strongly recommend taking a look at their works and going for anything that captures your attention!

Alright, now my conscience is clear and we can move on:

Armageddon Game by posthumous_vigor

One of my more recent obsessions. Basically, padawan Obi-Wan gets captured by Sith Anakin and then groomed to the Dark Side. What I enjoy about this one is how, even despite the unfavorable cards that Obi-Wan has been dealt, he cleverly chases down his goals... but not without twisting himself in the pursuit as well. He is an active actor in this play and ultimately it is not Anakin who Obi-Wan plays against. And by recommending this I'm recommending the whole series :).

Untouched by objectlesson

This fic has one the most predatory padawan Anakin I've ever seen. This child is just so deliciously fucked up in the head. I... I think I'll just let the author's summary speak for itself: In his darkest moments, Anakin began to think of it as his right. To control Obi-Wan’s sleeping mind, force it into a box, shut it up so he could take what he deserved. Warm skin, slack face, soft snores. And then—then—more.

pleasure, little treasure by objectlesson

A guilty pleasure of mine. And probably a very hard pill to swallow, so careful there. In this one, Vader goes back in time, kidnaps Jedi initiate Obi-Wan, and makes him his apprentice. Yes, it's very dark, a psychological horror, but this author writes with such skill and poetry that I trusted they could make me enjoy reading stuff I'd normally avoid... And I was right. The beauty in the abominable. That's why I love this author, the things they write are so refreshingly daring and so deeply fucked up on so many levels, but served in a way that makes me swallow it all up without question. (oh, I should probably mention that as of now this fic is unfinished, I seldomly pick up unfinished works, but with this one, I have no regrets :))

hold my heart more gently than you do my throat by tennessoui

This is a role reversal omegaverse AU. Master Skywalker has been captured by the Separatists, and behind the Council's back, his omega Padawan sets out to save the master in distress. It is debatable if the master in question needs the saving -noises of massacre in the background- (he did need the saving, in my opinion :)). What I really love about this fic are the horror vibes of little Padawan getting chased down the hallways of the enemy base full of dead bodies, and an unknown monster breathing down his neck, but the only thing on his mind is how to find his master and rescue him. Also, I enjoyed the final twist and how the story unfolded in the end. Satisfying. If omegaverse is your thing I definitely recommend this one.

game plan by treescape

Out of all the recommendations, I consider this to be the tame one. If all of the above made you hesitant to try, this is the one to go with. The summary: Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It's kind of a thing. I'm recommending this one for the banter. Some of it is just next level. Very amusing to read. Chef's kiss.

[crownspeaksblog]

In hindsight i shouldn't have been this surprised when arcane gave us two seconds of pit fighter vi, when this is the same show that didn't expand more on the fact that a 15 year old vi was in prison for 7 years... i understand why they skipped over these parts, they're not the story they're trying to tell, but they're too big of a things that happened in vi's life (especially the her prison time) that the story didn't give it the weight it should've had..

[nottheweirdest]

I'm alive!!! I promise I will catch up on asks and comments soon, please don't let my delay make you think I don't absolutely love and appreciate them!! I'll be better after the holidays I promise! 💕

Speaking of, I'll be posting not one but TWO Christmas fics this year! The first will go up tomorrow and is set in my movie universe after Baby Steps. The second is a Coming Home special and will post around NYE give or take because it's getting long (to literally no one's surprise lol).

See you soon!! 💝

[fumifooms]

Dandan x Asivia

Dubbed dansivia. Confused as to who either of these are? Here’s a Dandan comp and Asivia wise this post is close enough for now

There is a brave visionary on ao3 and they’re so right

Ok first of all let’s address the theory:

Dandan is indeed the only Laios party member not pictured here (besides Chilchuck himself but we saw he didn’t like her which would contradict this anyways). I keep wanting to add "that we know of" or some other caveat but honestly not even no, it’s never implied or mentioned they had yet another party member and that makes sense since we saw the party’s inception right up to its current party composition.

… So… Mystery solved right out of the gate? I dunno, it feels weird to me to claim Dandan hates Laios, but if he kept it under wraps enough or reasoned with himself about it I could see it. Laios and Dandan were coworkers from their gold peeling days, and so when Laios left to try a career in dungeon diving Dandan joined him.

They seem very standard coworkers that get along well enough to me, far from skulls emoji energy, but yeah there is a case to be made on both overt strong dislike and repressed strong dislike ends. But maybe the true beef started after he left the party even, especially if he fancies Asivia and kept up with the party’s drama that went down with her, though the chart does imply it was the work dynamic while he was still in the party because of context. But, believing that Dandan likes her and Asivia considered getting with him like the other men of the party, Asivia would have literally sidelined Dandan to pursue Laios. And Laios doesn’t even realize her attempts at seduction? Ok yeah the hate is plausible nvm. Also we can keep in mind that this is Chilchuck’s chart and he could have more insight on Dandan’s feelings than the average coworker since he’s his friend. It def fleshes him more out with implications. He’s professional he keeps unnecessary shit to himself. It’d be weird to me if the relationship chart was made without Kui thinking it through, or retconning it, it is the canon we get so it’s interesting to ponder. Kui giving us secret romantic drama for free <3

Speaking of what’s not free. Ok maybe Dan does dislike Laios, do business introductions really cost money… I mean I respect the hustle but. So Dandan is heavily implied to be the one to introduce Asivia to the party. The only other mage was Marcille and well we know how that went. "A real cutie". Yeah. I bet. 👀

This is the most interesting dansivia part to me, they did meet previously to the party, both doing what they do best, networking. Dan helped Asivia find a job, how did they meet and how did that go? What if she had an infamous reputation already, how much did they get acquainted… There’s a lot of leeway for fun here

Gorgeous hustling but lazy manipulator that seeks a fortunate husband x slight womanizer hustling & hardworking poor guy that’s been around in business for too long to be played… Both work a lot but like to take it easy when they can. Tavern flirtations and having met while networking and "I can hook you with a job" (staring and smiling too much) and "Oh Dandan, you’re so capable and knowledgeable about the Island, could you help me out~"

Manipulator hustler seductress x laidback hustler flirt… Social butterflies, streets smarts in different yet similar ways… Observant x observant………. She’s very harsh and drops people/her damsel act at the first second she can’t get something out of it anymore and I think he’d be so into that. Dandan liking strongminded women. Women who kinda play dirty. Makes him respect them and want to pursue them help…

And like, takes on Asivia differ nowadays but I do need her to mean this shit for this, this is what she's unabashedly about. She is just a woman trying to make it in this world but working people’s the name of her game. Whatever reason you give her, she was taking advantage of Laios and trying to get a marriage with any decent profitable guy she could. She knows what she’s doing and she doesn’t look the least bit remorseful. A girl who knows what she wants and chases it, rawr ⬅️ Dandan voice

They both fall for each other but neither can admit it because they know it’s just temporary, she’ll go look for a well-off tallman husband eventually. Messy situationship go. Can they even have a good ending together. It’s all only ever nice in the present moments… She’ll leave he can’t offer her anything but himself and a very humble lifestyle, she’ll leave she can’t settle for that she won’t, he knows that and it’s part of why he liked her in the first place. Oughhhhh

Ohhh to be underdogs, settling for a humble life & being content with that vs unapologetically ambitious and chases that life and comfort she seeks, which in turn makes him admire her…….. But even if she inspires him to chase what he wants, she can’t give it to him…………..

Putting this on blast bc they’re great thoughts

Because I’m me I’m trying to make them reach a happy long term ending together and it’s not working… Which is more fun tbh. I shall ponder this puzzle…

Casanova Dandan is so important to me now. Chilchuck’s in a separation slump & faithfulness oath to the wind but Dandan, good friend dandan? He’s living he’s thriving he’s pulling

I want fics of them meeting & networking. He’s very up to the news in the dungeon goer community… All I’m saying is I can see Dandan bartering for a shot with her in exhange for information or helping her out find jobs, knowing she’s after guys to marry too 🤭 I think they should flirt in a tavern. I think they should make eyes at each other over glasses and exchanging business convos and leaving it all in the implied and unspoken

Dansivia is getting too real to me

The fics are fun go read ‘em

[shattered-world]

tbh the fact that i ended up shipping carageta is really funny because i didn't even want to go see the movie. And now I'm halfway through typing up a second fic and it's been. a week. what happened.

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week (2024): Day 4

Prompts: AU/Movieverse/OCs! (Catching Up! I uh skipped Day 3 oop but I've got plenty to offer for this day! Which is...also late...don't look at meeee)

Aus WITH OCs (or as I like to call this list, my own personal indulgence corner. All the AUs/Movieverse stories I've read are ones that get recc'ed a lot already + I myself have already recc'ed them at one point or another, soooo let's throw some pure spotlight onto some OC stories! Even if a lot of it is connected to me to some degree that's irrelevant):

As The Years Pass By: A fic currently in the process of being rewritten/reworked but still chock full of next-gen Dragons Rising goodness! And it stars the one, the only, Jenna and Ethan from @rainofthetwilight!!!! This fic made me fall in love with her characters and I've loved reading/seeing/drawing these two adorable kids ever since!!!!

Dad!Jay AU by @taddymason: An AU so good I'm still catching up on reading it bit by bit to savor it for longer *-*)9 All the stories in this series are worth the read alone for the accumulation of taddy's character Kaida (a girl who needs no introduction–she's that awesome guys, trust me) but also the eventual father-daughter bond with amnesiac!Jay that is gripping and engaging aaaaall the wall through!!

I Carve This Poem From the Harshest of Storms: Another I'm not caught up with YET (a running theme for this Fic Week, it seems hgfhgfdfgds i'm sorry I'm slow and have a short-attention span). It follow two fascinating peeps in The Administration following The Merge, and without giving too much away, @theartsyswissapple ‘s voices for the characters just POP and make them feel SO real and it's been intriguing to read so far so yeah others should give it a try too!!!

What it Takes for You to See Me: A Spinjitzu bros story with added FSM and Mystake goodness too!!! This is one I've just started reading myself, but you know I love some throwbacks to Wu and Garmadon's past! And the OC here, @marhan-writes-n-draws's Amka, fits into the setting like a glove!!

Honeycomb: Gotta give a shoutout to @miqotepotatoe's Lucy while I'm here too!! Some short, sweet snippets of the Ninja Team's best (and most yellow) cheerleader!! I love her dynamic with everyone, and especially Cole <3

The Space Between Us: A very deep and heart-wrenching introspective into @k1ngtok's characters Lynda and Jamie, Master(s) of Space. It's story about siblings and bonds at its core, but also be mindful of tag of you're looking to dig deeper! (it also takes place in legacyverse technically but that's neither here or there I promise)

Flowery Language Another super funny and endearing story by King following Jesse (hey it's my boy!!) and Antonia on the case to discover who's been leaving flowers in Jesse's locker (spoiler: it's not Cole lmao). It's actually a semi-sequel to this old thing *I* wrote however long ago, but thaaaat's not required reading (though it does help). If you want more of a fix for the Jesse-Antonia duo + more of Jamie, this is the story to read!

Learning to Love (Again): Yet another King fic based in legacyverse (a coincidence), this one kiiiind of takes place during Season 2/Book 3 and follows Jamie on his quest to truly show his friends (Nya, Antonia, Harumi, Jesse, and...Olivia?!) just how much he cares about them through the power of love languages over the course of a week and it is AWESOOOOOOOOME!! Soooo many touching and feel-good moments, mostly soft slice-of-life with teenagers being teenagers, and is a great pick-me up when your soul is feeling sad ;w;)/ I advocate for this one just for the warm soft friendshippy-feelings it gives me alone!!! AAAAAA—

Something About Morning Glories: Jesse (oop there he is again) takes it upon to himself to comfort Jay after the latter finds himself concerned about something following obtaining his True Potential. A duo I desperately want to write more about but can't yet, so this little bit of foundation for their relationship will have to suffice for now ;w;)/

(and if you're still clamoring for more of a certain magic pink fool, there's plenty more where that came from; perhaps there may be a Jesse-Antonia friendship origin story on deck soon, along with maybe some DR stuff~! ...listen there will never be a good chance to self-advertise like this again!! BE YOUR BIGGEST FAN!!! SELF-LOVE BABY!!!! *-*)9 )

In the Company of the Stars: A tale as old as time—a Royal!AU where the fair groundskeeper of a palace's garden (that's the OC) falls head over heels for the prince far out of his league (that's Cole)—except, the prince absolutely likes him back...albeit only as his secret, suave alter-ego. But is that really true—and, more importantly, is there bigger problems to deal with right now???? There's romance, mystery, good food, royal drama, angst, fluff, sabotage, magic, a whole bunch of flowers, Harumi causing chaos on purpose, Skylor throws Chad across a room, Jay goes on a rampage a some point, Kai can't flirt to save his life—the author just needs some fresh motivation to post the darn next chapter already because the ending's gonna be really really good ;V

[lu-polls]

man ngl sometimes I’m tempted to leave wild off of the polls out of spite cause I think some of the votes are biased 😂

[angeart]

hmtb quotes i'm collecting on my reread (pt 1??)

chapter 7 - Lighthouse In The Storm:

He feels off-balance. He feels like he’s standing at the ruins of a desert castle and their lives have a set countdown and he has to try to make sure nobody can hurt them.

chapter 8 - Relying On You:

Maybe it was Grian’s touch and presence that finally made him doze off—the knowledge that he’s close-by and safe and that, if necessary, Scar can jump up and protect him. He’s not even fully aware of how similar that feels to Monopoly Mountain, when they slept near each other, ready to face any threat together. All he knows is that it’s familiar and comforting and easy to slip into.

chapter 8 - Relying On You:

Why did he think Mumbo might be a threat to Grian? Mumbo cares so much about him, and Scar knows it, he does, he just, he—he—

His thoughts fail to spin up a reasonable explanation. 

Maybe it was this room? The red? The light purple? The scent of flowers and sand—

No, no, there is no sand here. It is all made out of wood and copper and right out the window, there are lush green trees and mountains, nothing akin to sandstone and desert in sight.

chapter 9 - Safety Is But A Feather, And Feathers Burn So Easily

He turns to look and he sees Scar’s face, relaxed in a way he just doesn’t see when Scar is awake. He’s glad to see him calm and at peace, because he’s haunted by the look he gave him when he said Grian, please, no—back at the top of Mumbo’s mountain—the way he tipped backwards in the way Grian’s hands dictated, the look he gave him falling over the edge… That’s the thought his mind kept going back to while Scar avoided him. And now here he is, so close, so calm, so unafraid, and Grian’s heart hurts.

chapter 10 - Fever Dreams And Diamond Swords I

He can feel it again, crawling across his skin—that urgent need to push all threats away from Grian, to make it just the two of them against everyone else, to not rely on anyone’s false promises and tricks and—his head is full of a sprawling, cacti-outlined desert and life countdowns and TNT covered by grains of sand.

chapter 10 - Fever Dreams And Diamond Swords I

“You know, he’s kinda unhinged lately.”

“Mm.” Grian’s fist curls into bedsheets where Scar was, the fabric still warm. He closes his eyes. “It feels familiar,” he mumbles sleepily. 

“Familiar?” Mumbo raises his eyebrows. “You make it sound like a good thing.”

Even with fever and exhaustion, pain and vulnerability, Grian’s lips curl into a cheshire smile, and he opens one eye to look at Mumbo. “It feels like hot sun and sand and the edge of a guillotine.”

chapter 11 - Fever Dreams And Diamond Swords II

“You have a fever,” Scar explains to him gently, “so things might not make sense now. But you’re safe. Okay? Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

With trembling hands, Grian points the sword at him.

Scar lets the tip touch his chest. “Grian, if you hit me once, I’ll die,” he tells him in that same, gentle tone.

He isn’t afraid. He isn’t thinking about the impending pain of respawn, with all its horrendous consequences—no, the only thing he’s thinking of is Grian, and making him feel safe, and if Grian doesn’t feel safe with him there, he allows him to remove him.

Grian blinks the tears from his eyes. He isn’t moving.

“You can kill me, if you want,” Scar offers like he has a death wish.

Something flashes in Grian’s eyes at those words. And in that instant, they're not on the hardwood floor surrounded by petals anymore. Water laps at their legs and their eyes are red and Grian’s sword points at Scar and—with absolute intensity and clarity, Grian knows he doesn’t want to kill him, but then—but then there is the ring of cacti and the blood on his knuckles and—

The sword clatters out of his hands and he’s pressing his palms into his eyes, breathing raggedly at air that refuses to fill his lungs.