#please please please understand what I was trying to say
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You've changed, man. I don't know what it is but some time in the past six months your shitposting got a bitter edge to it. Sure you could blame the political climate or world events on it but...I dunno. I used to scroll your blog to momentarily escape the hardships of today but now it feels like even you're not a safe place any more. I wish you luck on your journeys onwards but I'm sorry to say I cannot travel with you any more. Be well, puki, and I hope whatever troubles you passes.
Escapism is important and I try to offer that to a degree, but ultimately, I am a person. I experience hardships, I empathize with the worsening conditions of my world. As long as I care about things external to myself, I will subtlety, or blatantly express them in some way in my blog, which I’ve done for years, not merely 6 months.
Unbeknownst to you, these concerns are often the inspiration for some of my most beloved posts.
You’re free to leave of course, if my 1 serious post out of every 30 fucks your day up that badly, then please, feel free! - I simply don’t see my blog as escapist fluff, it never has been, even if that is often the outcome. My page has always been about my interests, and I just so happen to enjoy making people laugh.
I see it more as a fun place to hang out and express the feelings I feel inclined to express, most of which are fun and goofy, some of which are not. I love our little playful back-and-forths, and I enjoy seeing your insights, even if some of you are fucking stupid as shit. Sometimes I just like using you guys as little guinea pigs, testing my odd expressions out on you, and sitting back and seeing the outcome.
Ultimately, I try to balance balance 3 things on my page:
Comedy, as you know - I like making jokes, I like testing them out on people. Even if they suck, I like writing them regardless. Sometimes I sit back after writing something I know objectively sucks, hit send, and watch as everyone tells me how much it sucks. It brings me joy.
A desire for money - because if not, I wouldn't be able to make posts half as often as I do (ie, shirt sales, promoting my music, etc) - Sometimes that anxiety for money also bleeds into my posts, it has for years; and I hold back from being even more desperate about money than I feel I should be sometimes.
And the point you brought up: The occasional comment on something real that matters to me. - Over the past 3 years, if not longer, I’ve made a few uncharacteristically-serious statements on things like Covid, Gaza, The Presidency, hell, even the indigenous people of Australia... and more.
Why do I feel inclined to discuss these things? Because I want to. My page has always been about what I want. Fortunately for you, what I usually want to do is to make you laugh! But sometimes I wish to express other feelings, because I have a platform that allows my voice to travel further than that of others!
For those angry at all the qualms I don't bring up, try to understand my balancing act, as someone who understands your desire for escapism, and the comfort that it brings you. If the veil falls, remember, we are of like-company - - and maybe, this veil was only ever in your head to begin with.
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Sorry it is 3AM and my field of study is more based on climate adaptation and mitigation as opposed to the hard science behind how climate systems work so I may not be able to explain this perfectly.
However. Unless I am completely misremembering David Wallace-Wells’ work, while it is true that scientific predictions for the degree of warming that we expect has come down over the past couple decades or so, the predictions for the severity of impacts that we will see at lower levels of warming have increased. So that is just really not an honest way of framing what he’s talking about. I believe Genevieve Guenther has a really well written criticism of the claims he makes in her book The Language of Climate Politics if anyone is interested in that.
It is important to understand that at present levels of warming we are seeing impacts that were expected at higher levels. And many climate scientists are massively concerned about this.
And like. Sure this still doesn’t mean that we’re all going to live through some sort of sci fi apocalypse movie. However I am from Florida. I expect many of the places I grew up around to become uninhabitable within my lifetime due to a combination of sea level rise, hurricanes, and extreme heat.
Also, sure we do technically have greater capabilities to adapt and respond to natural disasters. But like. I am currently in the works of beginning a semester long research project into sea level rise adaptation and we absolutely are not prepared for the scale of disasters that future climate impacts will bring. Hell we’re not even prepared for what’s happening now. My hometown was still recovering from major infrastructure damage from Hurricane Ian from 2022 when it was hit by both Milton and Helene over the course of THREE WEEKS. Like you have to realize that these horrible things that you see on the news still have effects years down the line after you’ve stopped hearing about it.
And it is also true that scientists cannot rule out the possibility of human extinction. I do not say this to fear monger. But people deserve to know that. Like we are very likely going to hit potentially major tipping points within our lifetimes.
Also. I am so sorry but choosing to believe that demand for renewables and technological innovation will save us is bullshit. The market will not work this out. Speaking as someone who is in the built environment fields there are tons of sectors other than just energy that are much more difficult to decarbonize. And the fantasy belief that like. “Green growth” on a finite planet will save us from climate disaster is just wrong. I am so sorry. But no. I can try to follow this up with more resources tomorrow. But no. This entire post is so full of misinformation that I just. I cannot figure out how to coherently explain this. Just no.
Also I am so sorry but we are not fucking going to re lower global temperatures through net negative emissions. That is literally the most absolutely bullshit claim. Jesus fucking Christ. Literally any amount of digging into carbon capture technologies will reveal that it is bullshit. It is quite literally just a bullshit diversion tactic from fossil fuel companies. All of the really great cool studies you keep seeing about how carbon capture is going to save us are being funded by them. I believe that like. Fucking Columbia Climate School is taking a ton of funding from them last I checked. It is just an excuse for fossil fuel companies to be able to keep emitting and to make people feel like the change necessary to actually tackle the climate crisis isn’t necessary. When it is. It is the same shit as tobacco companies funding studies into literally any other cause of lung cancer other than smoking.
Just like. Let’s please have a little bit of reading comprehension here too. Like okay we have avoided truly apocalyptic levels of global heating? For who? For the residents of island nations whose land will no longer be habitable due to sea level rise? For the 1,301 people who died on the Hajj pilgrimage when temperatures exceeded 50C/122F? For the people in Asheville, North Carolina who were found dead in trees because they jumped out of their upper story apartment windows and tried to climb when the water rose too high? In a town that is thousands of feet above sea level and hundreds of miles from the coast. Be so fucking serious with me right now.
This is a moment that is unprecedented within geologic history. Much less within the time that has provided a stable climate for our species to evolve. We are currently living within a mass extinction. That is fucking apocalyptic. I do not say this to fear monger. I do say this because people have the right to have an accurate understanding of what is happening so that people can understand the urgency of the present moment. I do not say this to spread the idea that things are so bad that we’re doomed and should just give up. Because that is also a horrible way of looking at this and is also very unproductive. But like. People don’t need to be lied to. People need to be educated on the actual realities of the current situation. This is not a fight that ends unless we get to the absolute worst case scenario of human extinction. Which to be clear is not something that is expected. It is just something that cannot be ruled out. Just please please do not spread this misinformation. I can try to follow this up with more resources tomorrow and do a better job of evaluating the things they’re saying and the sources they’re using.
We have already averted truly apocalyptic levels of global warming.
Yes, read that again. Let it sink in. This is what the science now says. We have already averted truly apocalyptic global warming.
To quote David Wallace-Wells, author of The Uninhabitable Earth, from his huge feature in the New York Times:
"Thanks to astonishing declines in the price of renewables, a truly global political mobilization, a clearer picture of the energy future and serious policy focus from world leaders, we have cut expected warming almost in half in just five years... The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse." (New York Times, October 22, 2022. Unpaywalled here. Emphasis mine. And yes, this vision of the future is backed up by the current science on the issue, as he explains at length in the article.)
So we've already averted truly apocalyptic warming, and we've already cut expected warming IN HALF in just the past five years.
The pace of technology, of innovation, of prices, of feasibility, of discovery, of organizing, of grassroots movements, of movements in other countries around the world, have all picked up the pace so fast in the last five years.
Renewable technology and capacity are both increasing at an exponential rate. It's all S-curves, ones that look like this:
-via The Economist, June 20, 2024.
How much more will we manage in another five years? Another ten? Another twenty?
I know the US is about to fucking suck about the environment for the next four years. But the momentum of renewable energy is far too much to stop - both in the US (x) and around the world.
(Huge shoutouts to India, China, and Brazil for massive gains for the environment in renewables, and Brazil for massive progress against Amazon deforestation.)
We're going to get there.
Say it with me. We're going to get there.
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because it's yours
for @steddielovemonth using the quote prompt: "If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples. I'd love your face no matter what it looks like. Because it's yours." - Stephen King
rated t | 1250 words | no cw | tags: post-vecna, eddie munson lives, pre-relationship, injury recovery, first kiss, getting together
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Eddie’s not allowed visitors in the hospital, at least according to Wayne and Hopper. It’s for his own safety, they say.
Steve knows that’s partially bullshit. He’s good at sensing bullshit. But he plays along anyway, convinces the kids to just visit Max and they’ll plan a welcome home party for Eddie when he’s released. It gets harder by the day, especially when all the news they hear is that Eddie is healing well and should be good to go home even sooner than they thought.
No one tells them when he’s released.
Steve only finds out because he walks by the room Eddie’s been in, and instead of the door being closed, it’s wide open. There’s unfamiliar voices coming from the room. It could be doctors or nurses, but something makes him pause and peek in the doorway.
It’s an older woman and what appears to be her adult children, all of them having a very serious conversation about how she needs to be more careful while gardening.
Steve leaves before he’s caught eavesdropping.
He considers stopping by Dustin’s, see if he’s heard the news. Maybe the kids found out first.
Who is Steve to Eddie really?
Just because they gave each other looks and flirted a little and Steve carried him out of the Upside Down and-
He swallows the hurt and decides to go straight to Wayne’s new trailer. It’s just outside of town, easy to get to even with the damage done by the cracks. He’s been there a few times to check on him, even helped him set up his cable.
When Wayne opens the door, Steve knows something is off.
He doesn’t invite him in. Instead, he steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him. He gives Steve an awkward smile instead of his usual warm, comforting one.
“Is he home?” Steve asks.
“He’s sleeping,” Wayne allows. “He’s still recovering.”
“Do the kids know he’s home?”
“Son, he-“
“Why is he hiding? Everyone’s worried and just wants to make sure he’s okay. No one would keep him from resting!” Steve hates that his voice pitches higher. His hands are shaking. He’s never spoken to an adult he respects like this. “We just wanna know he’s safe.”
“He is.” Wayne sighs. “I told that boy no one was gonna stay away for long. He insisted everyone would forget him. I said no. He didn’t listen.”
Steve’s eyes dart over to the window he knows goes to Eddie’s bedroom. He’d been the one to help set it up when Wayne moved in.
“Can I please see him? I’ll be quick. I won’t even tell the kids yet. I just need to see,” Steve begs. “Please, Wayne.”
Wayne wordlessly opens the door and gestures for Steve to come inside.
He leads him to Eddie’s room, reminding him with a look to be quiet and not wake him up. Steve gives an understanding nod and walks into the room.
There’s sunlight sneaking through the blackout curtains, just enough to light up the bed that Eddie’s already wide awake in. Steve can’t help the smile blooming on his face.
Eddie looks scared, though.
His eyes are wide, and he’s pulled himself to the farthest corner of the queen sized bed. His hair’s a mess, proof that he probably was asleep just before Steve got here.
“Hey, Eddie,” Steve waves. He doesn’t come any closer to the bed. “I just wanted to get eyes on you. Feeling alright?”
Wayne’s standing in the doorway behind Steve, probably trying to determine if he needs to step in or ride this out. If Eddie asks, Steve will leave. He doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable.
“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asks.
Steve watches the way his jaw moves around the words, how his mouth twists differently, like it’s taking more effort to talk. The scar going across his cheek, up into his temple, and down to his neck seems to be the cause of it. It’s still an angry red, stitches visible in some places where the bites must’ve been deeper.
He walks forward slowly. Eddie doesn’t stop him. Neither does Wayne.
The scar is big. It’ll always be big, though Steve has plenty of experience with scars and knows it’ll fade into a paler pink than it currently is. It’ll be a reminder, every day, of how he almost died. Eddie will have this memory every time he looks in the mirror, every time his own fingers brush against the ridged skin.
Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face that’s scarless.
Eddie gulps.
“Is this why you didn’t want anyone to visit?” He whispers.
Eddie doesn’t answer, but his eyes closing and head tilting down is answer enough.
“Eddie, look at me.”
Eddie opens his eyes.
“Do you really think a scar could scare any of us away? After how we found you, a scar is the least of our worries. You don’t have to hide from us.”
Steve’s not sure if Wayne’s still standing in the doorway, too focused on the way Eddie’s holding his gaze now. He’s lost weight and he’s still pale, but he’s alive. He’s still beautiful.
Maybe even more now.
“You’re alive. Everyone just wants you alive.”
“I’m gonna look even weirder now,” Eddie rasps out. Steve wonders if there’s damage to his throat, something his voice may never recover from entirely.
“I dunno. I think it’s pretty badass. Since when do you care about looking weird, anyway?” Steve smirks. “The Eddie Munson I know would find a new ridiculous story to tell every time he’s asked about something this cool.”
“I was leaning towards making people believe I got in a fight with a dragon,” Eddie shrugs one shoulder. His cheeks are red, warm underneath Steve’s touch.
“And won.”
Eddie leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “Of course I won. A knight in shining armor saved me.”
“You saved everyone else first. Don’t forget that part of the story,” Steve reminds him.
“A hero’s brave sacrifice…” Eddie mumbles. Steve chuckles. “Maybe true love’s kiss?”
“Isn’t that supposed to break a curse?” Steve whispers, suddenly nervous about all the times they flirted before. Flirting is harmless until it’s not.
“You’re right. In this case, it’s the curse of never kissing a nice guy.”
“And you think I can break that curse?”
“Can’t hurt to try.”
It’s a little awkward at first, mostly because parts of Eddie’s jaw are still numb from nerve damage and moving in certain ways is difficult. But once Steve adjusts, and they both giggle against each others’ lips, it’s easy. They fit.
Eddie tries to deepen the kiss, but he is still healing, and he has to pull away when his stitches tug painfully.
“Your battle scars won’t matter to any of us. They damn sure don’t make you less beautiful to me. Everyone misses you,” Steve rubs his arm, the one with no visible bandages. “Can I at least bring Dustin over later? Let him see that you’re actually alive and the hospital and government haven’t been lying?”
“Is that what everyone thinks?”
“You have to remember we’ve been through this a lot. Hopper was dead until he wasn’t. Anything can be faked.”
“That’s reassuring,” Eddie groans. “Yeah. Bring everyone by tomorrow. I’ll even shower.”
Steve kisses the top of his head. “Do you need help?”
“With showering? I just might, big boy.”
The way Eddie smiles is different now, but Steve loves it all the same.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddielovemonth
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Revel I just wanna say you and other transformers x reader authors inspired me to not just get back into writing but straight up making a song for the first time. I genuinely feel like falling in love all over again when reading the way you describe these bots 🩷🩷🩷🫶
That’s amazing! I’m so happy you like how I write them and that you’re feeling creative!
Even If It Kills Me Pt 15
Armada Starscream x Reader
• “Can you sing for us?” Gritting his denta at your soft request and the pleading chirps from his mini-cons, he looks down at where you’re all sprawled on him as your own personal heated berth. And he’s pretty sure his warmth is all you’re after. The mini-cons are probably just following your lead. And his voice isn’t cut out for singing. You know that. But you’re staring up at him, making your eyes big and he doesn’t really have a defense against that look.
• Hear him venting in annoyance and it’s hard not to grin when he starts singing that same song in his growling, rough language. Laying your cheek on your arms, you feel him ghost a servo against your spine. His warmth and voice spilling through you. Haven’t been able to actually just tell him that he keeps the nightmares at bay. The thrum of his spark and the little sounds of his internal systems soothe you. You’re almost drowsing when he stops and you sleepily lift your head, smiling when he gently presses your head back down with a servo. “No more lullabies. Those are for sparklings. Recharge.” He’s used that word before. Sparklings. Told you his mini-cons weren’t sparklings and not to spoil them.
• “Does that mean babies?” You ask and he vents. Because you’re not resting which means he’s not resting. “Little, helpless you guys?” There’s something in your voice. More than curiosity, but he can’t pin down exactly what it is. “Do you have kids? Sparklings?”
• “There’ve been no new Cybertronians sparked since before the war,” he murmurs, optics shuttered. Baby, alien robots. Trying to imagine if they’re actually babies and tiny needing teaching and care or if they start out full size and ready to go. “If you mean me personally? No, I’m not a sire.” That’s a pity. You’ve seen how he watches over you and the mini-cons. “I’m not sure that we can even create new sparks anymore.”
• Growling softly when you push against his servos and sit up on him, he drapes an arm over his face. Why can’t you rest? He has patrol first thing. “I’m sorry.” Peeking at you, because why apologize for something that’s not your fault? And Primus. Why are you leaking? Can’t even begin to understand how your little, organic mind works sometimes. But you’re upset now. Because there are no new sparks? Do you realize his species is dying out?
• “Stop leaking,” he grumbles, reaching to swipe a servo against your cheek and you catch at it, hugging it to you. “Primus, you really do act like a sparkling.” Pressing your face against his hand, you can’t explain to him why you’re crying. Can’t even really explain it to yourself. Just needing to get it out of your system and he leans forward, sending the mini-cons scurrying and indignantly chirping as he vents to stir your hair. “Please, stop?”
• “Sorry,” you manage, smiling up at him. “I’m okay. Really.” You say that, but you’re still clinging to his servo like he’s safety. And you’re not okay, he’s sure of that. Wants to ask, but something about your expression makes the words fail him. Realizing that this isn’t as simple as sharing old scars. This is something else entirely. Watches you scrub at your face, avoiding his optics, then open your arms for Runway, the mini-con immediately cuddling up against you. What had that been about?
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Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work
Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them
🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺
✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦
If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all
Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted
On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him
And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body
He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him
Reminds him that he's still human🥺
✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦
Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there
He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off
Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon
All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart
Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed
He's overjoyed!! But internally :)
✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦
Truly baffled, at first
He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way
Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased
At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it
And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...
There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄
Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly
I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it
The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little
When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know
✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦
Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!
Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it
He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really
It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill
He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort
Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on
And Yanqing did the same with him
So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD
HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭
He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time
Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))
✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦
Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING
Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before
People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before
Though that feels very different to him
When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously
But you? Oh he's taking it seriously
Ego? Inflated to hell and back
He's being extra sweet and caring with you
Making sure you eat and rest, etc
Gotta live up to his reputation 😉
The dad who stepped up fr
Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately
Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)
#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#star rail#honkai star rail#honkai sr#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#boothill#hsr platonic#welt yang#dr ratio#jing yuan#gallagher hsr#veritas ratio#hsr veritas#boothill x reader#hsr welt#welt x reader#jing yuan x reader#dr ratio x reader#gallagher x reader#hsr boothil#boothill x you#boothill x y/n#jing yuan x you#jing yuan x y/n
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I can simply state that
We literally have a 'rogue' defence force in Germany that literally -erases- people from existence if they get too far out of line in the right side
The "right sided" political 'rise up' is mostly just people being infuriated with young and stupid people from other countries stealing, or generally being rude in puplic-... [I am not saying they all are. There's always good and bad ones, that goes for Germany too] and the news focussing specifically on those kinds of things-... as a grocery worker, in a supermarket, can't even say that it's not 80-90% not the Germans stealing- but I mean
What are they supposed to do if they don't get money lol, and ppl here at least understand that
(unlike the Germans for example they only steal the necessities from our store, which are food, the Germans however walk out with 80€ bike lamps or shit like that)
Thing is, as soon as that right side -would- try pulling shit, trust me on this
They will get a forced eviction of their free trial of life by 70% of the German population, as well as most of our military
Also, do tell which town it is, I'll visit it in my next vacation and um
Practice mild arson
Heard sulfur makes a fun fire
Thanks :D
(I will neither say that my statement on arson was true or not, please consult my lawyer for further info- jk)
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MODERN AU! SEVIKA HEADCANONS
cw: none i think. just fluff
an: please forgive me if this is trash, this is my first post. also this is barely proofread sorry :p. also here's my modern!sevika moodboard
modern!sevika who’s love language is physical touch. she’s not great with her words like… at all. she loves to wrap her strong arms around your waist and bury her face in her neck while you’re cooking or cling onto you while she's sleeping. she won’t tell you she loves you, but she’ll tell you in other ways.
soft giggles escape your lips. “what are you doing?” you question, as sevika holds you down on the couch. she peppers slow, soft, wet kisses in a trail from your cheek, to your jaw, and down your neck. “what, i’m not allowed to kiss my girl anymore?” she replies, a cheeky smile on her face.
modern!sevika who loves to watch cheesy rom-coms with her girl. whether it’s a k-drama or an old movie, she’s pretty much down to watch anything. not only does she watch it, but she’s invested in it. she’s definitely slammed her cup on the coffee table too hard, and a bit too many times. she can’t help it, how else is she supposed to react to such a riveting plot?
sevika watches the tv screen intently, eyebrows furrowed. “wait. the head nurse is her mom? and her mom killed his mom?! what the hell?!” you can’t help but laugh and feel amused seeing her so into the show.
(any its okay not to be okay fans? :p)
modern!sevika who is actually super sweet, but only extends that curtesy to her girlfriend. i mean, let’s be real, she has the meanest rbf you have ever seen and she’s the most romantic person, to say the least. but if there’s anything she knows how to do, is take care of what’s hers.
you can’t help but plop onto your bed and let out an exasperated sigh after the day you’ve had. long meetings, a heap ton of work, and constantly complaining bosses has finally taken its toll on you. you curl up on your bed, stray tears falling from your watery eyes and soft sniffles escaping you. you were so lost in your thoughts, that you didn’t even notice sevika had arrived home. it wasn’t until you felt a dip in the bed behind you, that your cries had paused.
“what’s wrong?” you hear behind you, in a low gravelly voice as the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood settle in the air. “just…work.” you respond weakly. she hums as she wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you closer. she leaves a gentle kiss on your shoulder. "need something?"
she’ll do whatever you need her to do. she’ll go out and get food, or cook your favorite meal. she cuddle you on the couch, and let you put whatever you want on the tv. all that matters is that her girl feels better, and when she finally gets a smile out of you, she can’t help but emulate it, tooth gap and all.
modern!sevika who can speak fluent hindi. she doesn’t speak it often, but she might mumble something under breath subconsciously since it was her first language. she finds it absolutely adorable when you try to repeat after her and totally butcher the pronunciation. she appreciates the effort. you’ve also picked up a couple phrases she says often, responding in english to whatever it is she said.
not only do you try to speak her language, but she’ll try to speak any other language you do, too. despite her confident demeanor though, she gets shy, so she'll just respond in english as well.
“tengo hambre,” you groan. she scoffs, though it’s more like a laugh. “go make yourself something to eat then.” a childish pout quickly forms on your face as give her a mean side eye. sevika rolls her eyes, knowing you’re too lazy to go cook yourself a proper meal. she’ll give in, not wanting you to be hungry. “next time you’re doing this yourself,” she’ll grumble.
(obviously if not spanish whatever other language you speak)
modern!sevika who's undeniably and astonishingly good with people. it makes sense, since she is a corporate manager for a large finance company. when your friends first meet her, everyone was, understandably, intimidated. but they were surprised to find she’s actually… charming. it's easy to have a conversation with her, but only if she wants to have one. she'll make it known if she doesn't.
a small smile finds its way onto your face as you leave your friend's event. "what?" sevika asks, confused, but amused nonetheless. "nothing... just... that went better than expected." she raises an eyebrow. "what? what'd you think was gonna happen?" she asks, skeptically. "to be honest, i'm not sure, but i didn't know you were so... personable." you give her a suspicious look, "have you been hiding this skill from me?" she rolls her eyes. "dont be an idiot. how'd you think i got you head over heels for me?" she says, as she smiles cockily.
ahh she's my fave i hope you liked it :D
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this is hope-punk to me but i'm not quite sure how this'll fit with the rest of the blog so i'm anon-ing. this is very heavy into the US's situation right now, so anyone that that may make spiral, maybe sit this one out
y'all know about the attempted "buy-out" of govt workers? my parents are govt employees. my mom told me the night before about the mass emails sent out basically saying "hey guysss if you quit now we'll pay your through september pretty pretty please quit"
mass emails don't usually get sent out from the OPM like this. workers receive emails from the individual department heads.
this is a massive fuck-up, because people knew it was fishy immediately. some even thought it was fake. people are confused and angry. my mom said "they're so tech-savvy yet they can't even write a convincing email", and thousands of other workers are saying the same. because this email is the exact same email that Melon Husk sent out to Twitter employees before he cut them
but this isn't Twitter. this is the entire US government workforce that hundreds of millions of people rely on to do their jobs every single day.
mind you, the govt is gonna run out of money March 15th (if the debt ceiling isn't raised). they CANNOT pay any workers who resign through september, if they pay them at all, which senator Tim Kaine (D-VA) is openly highly skeptical of and there is a video of him on the senate floor telling government workers to not take the deal, echoing exactly what federal unions are telling everyone
and now tens of thousands (probably hundreds, if i'm being honest) of govt workers are standing firm. they know what this means. the fed subreddit is just filled with "stand firm! hold the line!" posts and propaganda that i fucking love to see. one post has over 60k upvotes on it. saw dozens of comments that all say something like "i've been begging for a way out for the past few weeks but this email just reignited my passion for public service and upholding the law".
this is a war on the american people and they are ready to stand up to it. they know mass resignations will fuck up so much shit, and that there is NOT enough people wanting to work for the government to fill those holes.
as of 2pm today (1/29/25), a lawsuit has been filed by the AFGE about Trump trying to politicize the civil service, with special emphasis on how he's going about it. this will not go down quietly. add that to the list of every other lawsuit being filed against him
my mom sent out "keep calm and carry on" to her team and offered guidance if anyone was thinking about resigning (mainly, her younger team members who don't have tenure - understandable). this is a tumultuous time that is scary. my mom is never phased but she is so over this bullshit, as is my dad
this administration is trying to scare/threaten people into quitting because they know a gutting is not going to be easy or even possible and to be completely honest, that email was absolutely a threat to people's jobs.
this is a grand stand of solidarity to the american citizens these people took an OATH to work for. they are tired but they are re-fired up to fight this administration with everything.
and do you know what fighting tyranny looks like for government workers? doing their jobs well. making sure people get what they need. standing up for the constitution. because for some goddamn reason, the clown show believes that government workers just sit at a desk all day and do absolutely NOTHING
Donny may be smarter this time 'round and he knows what he wants, but he has no idea how to get any of it.
bottom-line is, a large chunk of federal workers are in republican-lead states in roles that encompass every department. a lot of government work involves blue-collar workers that get paid jack shit and are NOT partisan in any capacity. this is going to fuck people up, REGARDLESS of political affiliation
so stand behind the government workers who do so much. they need us just as much as we need them. and trust, WE NEED THEM.
if you want us to be okay, you have to believe that we CAN be okay first. and i'm believing that we will come out onto the other side of this. because american citizens hold all the power here, and not him, and this (so far failed) government takeover is just proving that even more. he is overconfident.
in the darkness, this is a spark of hope. people know what we have to lose and they are FIGHTING for it
As someone who was trying to get a federal job before this mess forced me to put those efforts on hold for now, I've been watching this situation unfold closely. I'm thrilled with what I've seen from the federal workforce. It makes me all the more confident that this is the career I want, because the people already there have the same mindset about it. It assures me, too, that there a huge swathes of the government (far more people than in congress) who have this country's best interests at heart.
Suffice to say, it's been really difficult to be hopeful about the U.S. government for the past several years. But for me at least, the federal workers are re-writing the narrative.
Hold the line. Don't resign.
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Whispers Woven in Shadow. (1/?)
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; I’m terrible at summaries, so please don’t hate me for that! This is an OC that I’ve been playing around with for literal ages and I finally made the choice to really dive in and develop her, and then the ideas just started flowing in and I couldn’t stop writing! I’m already working on a second chapter for this, but let me know your thoughts if you’d like to see this continued! I don’t post my writing too often, so be kind if you don’t mind!! Oh, && special thanks to @coffeebooksrain18 for the moodboard! 🩵 Enjoy!
𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻, 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿-𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗹.
𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ; 3802.
Everything is different now, Ariadne Archeron blinks as she looks out the window to the clear skies of robin’s egg blue with rays of sunlight streaming through to cast a golden hue that emitted warmth and yet, she had never felt so cold, so empty. Her mind was spinning around in circles, jumping from thought to thought, never settling and making her skin itch with such an intensity that she had to refrain herself from digging her nails in and ripping flesh from bone.
It was all wrong. Every single bit of it. And she couldn’t understand what was going on and why she was feeling this way.
The simple answer was because she had been thrown into a massive pot that stripped her humanity from her without consent and replaced it with immortality, which was something she had only wondered about in the stories that Elain used to show her as a little girl; she never imagined that it would come true and become her life.
Feyre had accepted being Made into High Fae graciously, almost eagerly, while Nesta seethed and resented, focusing her pent up emotions into care and concern for Elain. That left Ariadne to deal with it alone and if she were to be honest with herself, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
She was broken, lost, and confused, nearly a shell of her former self. How was she to handle this? What was she to do? There wasn’t a set of rules for something like this and there was no one to turn to for advice, not that she could anyway with her inability to speak.
It seemed that magic couldn’t heal everything.
Ariadne had been born deaf and could only communicate through gestures and looks, which made everything that much harder for her compared to her sisters. She couldn’t get her mouth to form the words that ran rampant in her head, not that she didn’t try, and eventually, she gave up, coming to the realization that what she so desperately wanted to say would never be heard by anyone other than herself.
She had never felt sorry about her ailment before, knowing that Nesta understood when she was irritated by the way her eyes narrowed with a hand placed defiantly on her hip and that Elain knew when she needed a moment away from their father when a frustrated huff emitted from her nose, followed with the incessant picking at the skin around her fingernails.
And Feyre, well, she was able to decipher what Ariadne wanted before she even did.
But it was different now. It wasn’t the same and the changes she was going through had to be dealt with, with no help from anyone. It wasn’t fair.
She wanted to scream and yell and cry and throw things, but she couldn’t, and if she could, she wouldn’t want to. That wasn’t who she was and it definitely wasn’t how she acted when life didn’t go the way she wished for it to. Instead, Ariadne kept it hidden away from prying eyes and suffered in silence, because that’s what this all was.
Suffering.
Agony.
Without any end in sight.
Ariadne works to swallow the dry lump that had formed in her throat and she withholds a wince, knowing that she needed something to drink and she was already dreading the fact that she’d have to leave the bit of safety in the room, that was now hers, to go get it.
Unless she wanted to stick her mouth under the faucet again and she most definitely did not.
Downstairs it is, she gnaws on the inside of her lower lip until she tastes the unmistakable tang of copper on her tongue, the nerves already setting in. You can do this, Ari. Just stand up and walk. It isn’t that hard, her fingers clenched into a fist, nails biting into her palm. Get UP! Get up, get up, get up!
Why couldn’t she move? What was wrong with her?
Ariadne sucks in a breath and holds it for a moment, then releases, her eyelids fluttering as she struggles to keep herself composed. The tears were right there and there was no way she would allow them to fall; she had to be strong like Feyre would be, not letting anything knock her down, and if it did, she’d get back up to try again. She could do that, couldn’t she?
It’ll be quick. Start with putting your feet on the floor. That’s easy enough to do, she reopens her eyes and stares straight ahead for several minutes, working on keeping each breath steady. On the count of three… One, her skin prickles, but she manages to sit up straight, legs unfolding. Two, sweat forms on her brow as she moves her feet to hover over the carpet. Three!
The distance closes and she freezes when she feels the plush material against her skin, finding that it was kind of… nice. See, not so bad, right? One thing at a time. You can do that no problem.
A small bit of confidence surges through her and she quickly rests her arms on either side of the chair, bracing herself before pushing herself up; her knees wobble and her brow furrows, but Ariadne - more determined than she realized - finds her balance and straightens, taking a deep breath in order to calm down a little.
Hey! Look at that. You did it, there’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth, which she dutifully ignores. Now, another deep breath. Start walking, was it too soon to do this? It had only been a week since- Don’t go there, Ari. You’re doing so well. You aren’t there anymore. You’re fine, she lifts her chin and turns towards the door. Go on, she takes a step.
Ariadne keeps going, one foot at a time, and becomes more steady, making her way across the - her - room to the door and stopping to stand in front of it. Her hand wrapped around the handle, halfway turned, but she froze again. Completely immobile. Why was her heart beating so quickly? This wasn’t normal. It made no sense to feel like this and she couldn’t find a way to understand it, which was incredibly frustrating.
It’s good that you want to see something else besides these same four walls. Nothing wrong with that. No one is even going to be out there, she turns it the rest of the way. Nesta is with Elain, and Feyre, her heart clenches painfully. Feyre isn’t here right now, so you’re going to have to do this yourself, she pulls and it opens. There you go.
Ariadne peers out into the hall and looks down both ends, not seeing anything other than the rest of the doors, all closed, and the sconces that emitted a warm light. She slips through and begins to walk, her feet padding softly against the floor and she was hoping that the kitchen was in this direction or else she was going to be wandering around for a while; the House of Wind was huge.
She continues on with her hands clasped together in front of her, the pad of her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto the top and she can’t help but look around, never having seen anything like it before. Not even Archeron Estate. The amount of money that Rhysand had to build something like this? He must’ve grown up rich. Her gaze roams over the intricate carvings on the large columned archways, head tilted in quiet admiration. They were pretty.
The hallway comes to a set of stairs, only four, and Ariadne pauses before taking each one down to find a kitchen to the left that led to what she assumed was the dining room, and held a grand table in the center with multiple high-backed chairs.
Yeah, definitely rich from birth, she walks further in and flicks her eyes over the cabinets, realizing that she had no clue where anything was. Look through all of them. It isn’t going to matter anyway, she reaches up on her tip-toes and her fingertips barely brush against the handle. Oh, great, she sighs. Where’s a ladder when you need one?
She notes the sink only a few inches away and she moves to crouch down in front, beginning to search through and eventually coming up empty. Please don’t tell me I have to climb on a counter, Ariadne stands back up straight. Again, there was really no other way, was there? Of course not.
Her brow furrows as she surveys the correct way to do it without getting hurt, knowing that no one was there to help if things went awry; she finally settles on using the shelf that went across the middle of the bottom cabinet to use to give her a boost and then she’d be able to get her leg up by bracing her weight against the wall.
It seemed simple enough.
After getting into position, Ariadne takes a breath and places her hand to the left as she pushes her foot against the shelf. She grunts from the effort to lift her leg, managing to get her knee onto the counter and use what strength she had to pull the rest of herself on top.
She grasps at the handle on the cabinet to steady herself before she adjusts her knees and leans over a little to open it, only to find plates. An annoyed huff makes her nostrils flare and she carefully shuts it. I should’ve just drank from the faucet again, her arm extends and her fingers wrap around the next handle as she moves over. This is way too much to do for a cup, she keeps her spine straight and prays to whatever higher power hailed over Prythian that this was the right one.
Ariadne pulls, and she doesn’t notice the fabric of her dress shift or when she starts to slide; she peeks inside and her eyes brighten when she sees what she had been hoping for. Yes!
Her body goes to lean like she had done a couple minutes ago and her knees give out from under her, a surprised sound leaving her lips as her other arm flails, unable to find anything to hold onto. No!
Everything went sideways and Ariadne began to fall, the top of her foot hitting the edge of the counter and she hisses through her teeth, eyes squeezing shut and bracing for the impact of her body against the tiled floor. But it never came. There was something looped around her waist, cool and soft, flowing like silk and holding with a gentleness that she had never felt before. What is it? Where did it come from?
Whatever it was had decided to turn her upright and place her down safely, which is when she decided to open her eyes; the first thing noticed were the wings, massive and actually really beautiful, but holding a power that matched that of the one, two, three, four… seven siphons, which reminded her of sapphires, and then it was the deep bronze skin that was littered with dirt, grime, and only the Gods knew what else, followed by a tousle of dark hair, slightly curly.
Though, what Ariadne noticed the most was the golden glow that faded into hazel. There was a mixture of guardedness, curiosity, and worry - maybe? - swirling within the shifting shades of green and brown, but she wasn’t sure if she could trust it. Azriel, I think. The other one is who Nesta can’t stand. Cassian? This is the… Spysinger, her lips pressed together. No, that isn’t right. Oh! Shadowmaster. Yeah, that makes more sense.
She blinks and realizes that she had been staring at him for longer than she should’ve and quickly refocuses to see that he had come around from the other side of the counter to stand a few feet away from her.
It looked like the Shadowmaster had been in a few fights and then slept on the ground afterwards, which was weird to her because she swore Cassian was the aggressive one. Never judge a book, Ari. People look at you and think you’re not capable of anything or that you’re stupid, she lifts her chin and finds that she could now only see his chest when she did that, so she tilts her head back further until she finds his face again.
₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:・
Azriel watches in silence as the youngest Archeron sister - Ariadne - nearly breaks her neck in order to meet his gaze, the warm honey of her eyes full of questions, trepidation, and a sadness that was trying to hide itself and he was certain it was much larger than what he already caught. He found himself wishing he could ask her about it, but that was impossible for two important reasons; one, Azriel didn’t do things like that and two, even if he did, Ariadne wouldn’t be able to hear him.
And who was to say that if she could, she would answer?
He resorts to raising a single brow, inclining his head towards the counter as he keeps his sights set on her, surveying her expression for the slightest change; it starts with a flicker of surprise before shifting to neutral and she nods, the smallest of sighs emitting from her parted lips and she glances at the still open cabinet that held the cups, then tapping her fingers at the base of her throat.
Ah, he steps forward and reaches inside to grab one, lowering it down and handing it to her. There’s a moment of hesitation, though it doesn’t seem to be an aversion to him. It was more so of someone unsure how to accept help when they had been doing everything without it for a long time. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?
The ever-present shadows that swirled around Azriel became tense at the thought and he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind to be locked away.
Now wasn’t the time.
Ariadne was staring at the glass and he realized that she had no idea that the House of Wind would provide anything she wanted. After all, how was she going to know anything about a world she had been thrown into? Stories that passed over to the human lands weren’t always accurate.
Will you- He hears a quiet gasp and he cuts himself off, attention snapping back to the small Fae in front of him that was watching as… orange juice filled to the brim. Apparently, she figured it out a lot quicker than he thought she would. The corner of his mouth twitches. Smart girl.
Azriel takes a couple steps back and leans his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with his wings tucked behind. Ariadne turns her head and blinks at him, observing his position before giving a single dip of her chin and he had a feeling that it was her way of saying ‘thank you.’
He returns the gesture and she begins to walk by, more than likely heading back to her room, and that’s when he smells it; cherry blossoms. It was sweet and soft, hints of creamy vanilla bean and almond with a warmth that made him want to reach out and touch her.
It’s his turn to blink now and he waits for Ariadne to pass before he looks over his shoulder, hazel returning to that golden hue as she makes her way back up the steps and disappears down the hall. His shadows begin curling around his neck and ears, whispering to him in cool breaths, some louder than others.
She is special. Yes, special. And alone. Afraid. She is lost. No way to understand. She cannot ask. She wants to understand. Must help her understand. Yes. Help her.
Azriel gives a small tug and they fall silent, though they flick against his skin in protest and to show their evident distaste for his dismissal. He rolls his eyes with a heavy exhale, giving his head a shake before he pushes himself away from the counter and disappears into the same temperamental darkness that matched that of himself.
₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:・
Ariadne was unsure how to feel about her brief interaction with Azriel; he understood what she’d been trying to do and had even helped her, which was odd for her, but it made him better than most people she had met. He didn’t invade her personal space either, didn’t try to do anything at all that would make her the slightest bit uncomfortable.
In fact, he seemed to be a fairly decent male. She couldn’t remember a single instance over the few times she had been around him - even as a human - where he had ever acted out or caused any sort of problem. And if he did, she had an inkling that it would have to be over something important.
Her eyes lifted to the window and found that the sun had set, painting the sky in magenta and lavender with bursts of burnt orange and yellow; it reminded her of something that Feyre might like to recreate on canvas. There’s a sharp pang in the center of her heart at the thought of her sister and she winces, reaching up to rub the spot with her hand.
It was hard without Feyre. Yes, Nesta and Elain were there, but they were handling being Made even worse than Ariadne was. At least she had left the room. Granted, it was only once and she wasn’t gone for that long. It was still more than what they were doing.
And that had to count for something, didn’t it?
Ariadne had been the closest with Feyre, in age and in every other way. They were inseparable and a lot of love was shared between the two of them, along with a deep-rooted loyalty and respect for who they each were. And now? She felt like she was missing a vital piece of herself that she didn’t know how to get back and the longer the stretch of days went on, the more painful it got.
She picks at the skin around her nails and shifts her gaze to the floor, not wanting to think about any of this anymore. That was the thing about having no way to talk to someone; she tended to inner-monologue and go too into detail about things, overwhelming herself until she disassociated from it all.
Not the best solution, but it worked for her.
A flicker of movement in the corner catches her attention and she zeroes in on it, eyes narrowing slightly. Don’t tell me this place has ghosts now, Ariadne stands, noting how it was darker than it should’ve been with the way the light was streaming in. Because I will find a way to get out of here. There can’t be that many stairs.
She takes a couple steps forward, head tilted with curiosity and a bit of fear if it was actually a ghost. Whatever you are, I’m not going to hurt you, so that means you can’t hurt me either. That’s how this works.
The unknown something moves again, causing a shift in the air that her new Fae eyes are able to detect; it looked like smoke, though more refined and smooth, shimmering with an iridescence that reminded her of the stars. She reaches out. What are you?
It slithers forward and Ariadne watches as it brushes against one of her fingers, almost as if it were curious about her too, and that’s when she feels that same softness that had been around her waist earlier, silken and surprisingly strong.
You’re one of Azriel’s shadows, it curls around her finger and Ariadne hums. What are you doing here? Did he send you?
The shadow moves further up until it’s wrapped around her wrist, the end curled between her fingers and she feels something push at the back of her skull. It didn’t hurt, but it was strange; it sort of felt like someone was trying to fit the wrong key into a lock.
Ariadne keeps her eye on the shadow and takes a breath. Are you trying to get in? Feyre mentioned that before, but I can’t remember what it’s called. It’s mind reading though, isn’t it? Are you saying I can do it too?
There’s an instantaneous pressure around her wrist and she sucks in another breath. Okay, that’s… Okay, her brow furrows; how did the shadow know before she did? Was it because of Azriel being their master? But then that would mean he would know too, wouldn’t he? And he had never given any inclination that he did, so how?
She wished she knew all of the information that Feyre had given back when she first showed them that she was High Fae. Ariadne could read, some, from the few books Nesta was able to get when they lived in the small cottage and then even more so when their father had suddenly been offered a business deal that made them wealthy again, not that she remembered any of that part of their life, and was given lessons; she didn’t like them and proceeded to have a glare off with her eldest sister until it was made clear that there would be no changing her mind.
Ariadne would teach herself.
And reading turned into writing.
But it had been slow going at first and when Feyre had arrived with Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian, she had only gotten so far and there was some of it that had been written down that she either got mixed up or couldn’t remember at all. It was all bits and pieces.
The tightening around her wrist draws her attention back to the present and she shakes her head. Right. Focus, Ari. If the shadow is trying to tell me what I think it is, I have to try, don’t I?
Ariadne closes her eyes and recedes back into her mind, maneuvering through the jumbled mess of thoughts before she comes across an opalescent wall, shimmering with a moonlight glow and she couldn’t help but think how pretty it was. Why had she never noticed this before? Her head tilts and she probes further, searching for some way to open it.
It brushed softly against her just as the shadow did and she gave an instinctive squeeze in return before the wall of light brightened, beginning to shake and shift, soon revealing a small entryway for a single person to get through. She gasps.
Whoa! How did I do that? Ariadne opens her eyes and looks down to see the little thing was weaving between her fingers. Can you hear me now?
Yes.
#themoonlitquill#writing#fanfic#a court of thorns and roses#a court of thorns and roses fic#azriel#azriel acotar#original archeron sister#original character#rhysand#feyre archeron#nesta archeron#elain archeron#cassian#original female character#fantasy#fae#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#acotar fanfiction#self insert#azriel x reader#azriel x original character#archeron sisters
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Holy hell Author. Holy hell.
Like, after I reread the Adopted son 48+ times, I still haven't processed even though I've processed fully what happened....
Like looking you need to distract myself but I can't leave your page. So I ask of you to throw us a bone of anything happier.... please
Like, IDK Royal Consort or something I don't know
That was like the first thing I could see after I like processed the episode of adopted son I just watched with my eyes that was like happy and not about food cuz I don't think I could stomach it without wanting to like viciously Chomp on a salad imagining it being Richard Grayson destroyed.
And I'm feeling bold but I'm also a coward I'm also a coward so I will not make this anonymous out of pure Hope that you who will throw a bone of any anything at us
And not just drink our tears while cackling madly cuz I feel like you do that like an ancient duchess or something IDK
Danny is floating in incredible darkness, disrupted by small shining stardust, where nothing but peace can reach him. It's been a long time since he felt so at ease that he allowed himself to flout higher and higher as if flying away into an endless cosmos.
He is about to pass a point where he knows that if he goes beyond it, there will be no return. He will know nothing but the tremendous abyss.
Accepting the joy it brings him, Danny floats towards the gateway, chest first, arms spread, and a blissful smile stretching across his face. Then, a burning sensation begins on his back, like someone had thrown a hook onto it. He has a second to scream before he's yanked away from the stardust and the gleaming gateway, hand stretched out desperately towards it as he falls, falls, falls-!
Danny slams into his body like a flight train, going off the rails and making him bounce slightly on the bed he was lying on. While trying to catch his breath, a roar of whispers starts up around him, resonating inside his skull and banging his brain like a gong.
He blinks and opens his eyes, trying to get his ears to stop ringing, but he has to shut them down due to the bright light that burns his pupils. He tries lifting his hand to rub at his eyes to soothe them but finds his limbs uncooperating.
Mentally sending the command to move doesn't seem to be received, as all he can do is make his fingers twitch slightly. His legs also won't move, not even to flex his toes. Panicked, Danny rips open his eyes again, wanting desperately to move his head but finding his neck is only able to rock in place but not actually turn.
Then, he notices a breathing mask is attached to his face. He seems to be underneath four bright lights similar to the ones he's seen on TV for medical shows. His clothes had been switched out from the fancy tux that the Waynes got him to what feels like paper-thin cloth, and he swears that there is a cap or something similar on his head.
Danny's heart starts hammering in his chest as his panic increases. He doesn't know where he is, what happened, or why he seemed to have woken in what seemed like a hospital setting. Distantly, he hears a loud double beat, rising in volume and increasing in tempo.
He can't tell where they are coming from as he struggles with all his might to get his body to move. A face appears on his right, causing Danny to flinch from the sudden appearance and the closeness. It took a moment for his eyes to focus as the person had left only breath space between their noses.
Phantom.
A bright eye, grinning Phantom with glowing cracks alongside the left of his neck. The cracks- they don't appear like scars, but honest to Ancients, they remember broken marks on porcelain dolls- went up to his left ear, curling around his jaw, and disappeared into the cloth near his left shoulder.
"What happened to you?" he means to ask, but the mask and his weakened state have the words come out more like "Wa heped to yu?"
Phantom smiles anyway, clearly not understanding what he's saying but able to make a guest, "Good morning, sleeping beauty. I've been waiting a whole week for you."
"a wek?"
"That's right, it's been a week. Frostbite was able to save you through a hazardous surgery involving half of my core and the blood of a human virgin." Phantom brushes some loose bangs out of Danny's face, somehow making his face soften even if his eyes still have that hard, tired glint. It was one of the big differences he had noticed at the gala.
Phantom had the eyes of someone who had seen the end of the world and had hearted his heart to survive it. He blinked slowly, trying to understand the information his future ghost self was saying, but his vision wavered as a new wave of fatigue overcame him.
Phantom sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Rest, my love. When you wake the next time, things should be much clearer."
Danny fights against his slumber as much as he can but is only able to hear a voice whisper, "How is the Consort?"
"He's doing better, thank you, Ambassador Drake."
Ambassador?
The next time Danny wakes up, he's no longer in the healing chambers. Instead, he finds himself underneath the silk comforter of his King Chambers inside of his castle that he purchased from the WebSpinners in the Ghost Zone. He blinks his eyes slowly, trying to push away the fog clinging to his mind, as he carefully leaves himself into a sitting position.
He's wearing his royal pajamas, which feel like a soft, warm cloud is touching his skin. He sits in the sensation while taking one slow, deep breath. The King Chambers used to be Pariah Dark's old bedroom in his haunt, covered wall to wall with mounted body parts of his enemies.
It took Danny two whole years before he could make himself go in and clear everything out. He then had Poindexter hire a team of interior designers who brought to life Danny's human perspective of what he thought a castle should look like.
Granted, Danny's idea of a castle was a little clouded by all the movies he had seen with Kings and Queens, and it took some trial and error before the team figured out he considered French Chateaus as his ideal mental castle image. Now they informed that the Haunt would react to his will, and after spending hours and hours meditating to create a connection with his inherited haunt, Danny had shifted its shape from a gothic black stone medieval castle to a bright white break chateau.
He had even turned the environment from a ranging dark storm into an eternal winter wonderland. He glances at the two large windows of his room, taking in the gentle folds of white blankets across the ground as soft snow continues to fall.
His breath hitches at the beautiful sight, suddenly overcome with love for his gentle winter morning. Even though he had shifted the grounds into more welcoming walk gardens with undisrupted snow and pine trees, nothing was as beautiful as his Haunt's ice statues of his family and other beloved memories that decorated the pathways of his gardens.
Danny takes a few minutes to admire
A fire cracks within the room's fireplace, pulling him from his thoughts. He briefly considers it, memorizing the soft purple of its flames when the door is violently flung open. Standing in the doorway is a hurried-looking Poindexter whose arms are filled with various parchment, scrolls, and stacks of papers.
"Danno! You're awake!" He greets, rushing towards him with various items falling out of his arms. "Thank the Ancients. Can you please review these purchase orders?"
"What? No!" Danny groans, leaning away from the desperate-looking nerd who practically crawls across the bed while shoving scrolls at him. "I've been unconscious for a week! Why would your first instinct be to make me sign purchase orders? "
"I know, but ever since you acknowledged yourself as the Consort, that made your human side head of Hunt operation and management. You only gave me Manager rights as the King, but the spouse authority, which in this case is the Consort, goes over my clearance level, and I need to get these paid before the ghosts lose their patience and come ransack the castle!" Pointdexter snapped. "Why did you go around telling people you married yourself!? I thought wearing the Consort symbol was a weird metaphor for self-love and a declaration of staying unmarried, not that you actually married yourself! This is weird!"
Danny blinks, caught off guard by the usually calm ghost sneering in his face. "How....did you hear about all of this?"
Pointdexter sighs, falling back and, thankfully, out of Danny's personal bubble. "Everyone's heard about it since King Phantom popped up with you in his arms, which is a problem because only a select few from your early years knew you're a halfa - a secret we had spent years protecting, which is now much harder to do. Rumors are spreading that you even brought back a concubine! A concubine!"
"I'm sorry?"
"You should be! Do you know how many ghost territories have attempted to send a concubine as a gift and an effort to control the King's Court?! Nine hundred and fifty-three! I had to turn away each one with the flimsy excuse that the King wasn't present to turn them away himself."
"We have a Court?"
"We do now! Thanks to the existence of Consort Daniel Fenton!" Poindexter rubs the space between his eyes after taking off his glasses. "The worst part is that King Phantom returned to the human world to calm things down from his fit and left that human in the castle. The jerk has been snooping around and then had the audacity of acting like he's some idiot who isn't snooping. As if I haven't been the head of the Hunt security for four years!"
Danny raises a hand, feeling like that was too much information to process. Seeing the ghost go silent and wait as he tries to think is gratifying. Eventually, he hears himself ask, "What human?"
"Timothy Drake. He was the reason you and the King survived a core transfer."
"How?"
"He donated fractions of his soul in self-sacrifice to turn into pure ectoplasm that was used to piece together King Phantom from falling apart." Pointdexter sighs. "The only problem was the man did it in a pathetic attempt to keep the King from "raging war" against the humans, and now he can't leave the Hunt as a side effect of the ritual. The humans think we purposely stole him, and now everyone is scared that King Phantom has a taste for human flesh., and not in the cannibal way! And I have Purchase orders that are weeks overdue!"
There was a loud sound of horns from the outside before a man shouted, "Announcing the arrival of Sir John the Pure, a tribute to King Phantom to be used as a concubine. A gift from the Cosmos tribe."
Pointdexer throws his arms into the air, leaping off the bed and rushing out of the room. It's always hard to remember ghosts could not go through walls like the mortal world, but that at least means the large carriage, followed by marching men in knight suits, was forced to go slowly so as not to hit all his ice statues.
That did not mean the weird marching band was made entirely of fanfare; trumpets stopped blaring their song as they grew closer to the front door.
Danny could see them from his window, and he also saw the moment Drake faded through the second-floor wall, looking shocked- likely unaware he was the ghost in the ghost zone- before he face-planted on the ground below. A beautiful man leaps out of the carriage, rushing towards him, and were it not for his blue skin and stardust in his hair, Danny would have thought him human.
Pointdexer appears at the door, shouting something while the horns continue to play their stupid song.
Danny opens and closes his mouth before he grabs a pillow and screams into it.
This is the worst way to wake up.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#the royal consort#Part 8#Political Climitae is not going well#Tim is just trying to save humanity#Pointdexter is overworked and stressed#Danny's lie of being Consort is now spread#It's not well known Danny is a halfa#That's why the lie worked.
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Ok here me out! A time and dimension displaced Sam and Tucker! Who each lost their Danny +the other! Learned magic! (For Sam “normal or standard magic plus behaving the title of the Daughter of the Green) maybe she become the Dark Witch of the Green. And for tucker Pharaoh magic plus technology based abilities) both tried to avenge their friends and got labeled a villain for it!
So they disappeared into the ghost zone! Found the other. Learned that while they may not be the variant that they grew up with they’re still pretty close. And then realize if there’s time lines where they lost everyone….then they had to be at least one time line where A Danny survived but lost them. And have been hunting to find one since. Clockwork has had to constantly redirect these two so they wouldn’t find Dan pre redemption. As then Past Danny would have had no chance whatsoever!
But now that things are as stable as they’ve going to get. There’s a Jazz, Danny, Ellie and Dan( I vote he changes his name to Jordan as a tribute prior to Jazz showing up! Who then demands he keeps it so she’s not left out the the naming anymore! As well as a confused but supportive set of parents.
So they show up in all they’re dark glory and as soon as they see Danny (who doesn’t fight back because of shock) this leads to a chase that should end with Starfire finally showing up who has already read every text and update Dick has sent her.
Now the thing is Dark witch Sam and pharaoh tuck are messed up in the head. They both lost their Danny’s in different but equally tragic ways. So they’re border line Yandere’s at this point. (It can be romantic or platonic) So when they find out that this timeline has 2 Danny’s that have each lost and grieved their variants they HAVE to stay. Ok time to pull out the waterworks….
Finally they explain they’re from timelines/dimensions where they were the last person standing and got blamed and vilified for their grief over losing there loved ones. And that the original plan was find a Danny who has lost their variants and take him with them before anyone can hurt him like what happened in their timelines. But now that they see there’s a jazz, Ellie and a Jordan here they can’t possibly take him! They look up at Starfire. Who’s glaring at the 2 maybe villains holding her sons kinda hostage. (Kinda being the operative word as her sons are each desperately clinging to one.) but before she can try to get them to safety. They start crying.
W-we’re so SORRY! We just wanted to protect him because we were too weak to do it before! In their timelines Their danny’s got hurt really bad! Hell one timeline it was His parents who hurt him! But this isn’t what their Danny’s’ would have wanted they see that now! Please can they stay? They can be heroes! Help out they innocent! All for the low low price of not being separated from Jordan and Danny! Please! Just give us a chance!!!!!!!!!!!
Dick who has finally caught up really wants to say no. But Jordan abd Danny are clinging to them and flashing the most pathetic wet kitten eyes he has ever seen!!!!!!!!! He looks at his daughters who are also looking at him with teary eyes…..fine you can stay but your on thin ice understand! Both of you are going to under surveillance and he’s going to have since a magical contract that outlines the rules! (This won’t backfire….right?)
Thoughts! 
Future Son????
It has been a while since I have done an original prompt. So DCxDP prompt #2
Danny gets into a fight with Impulse/Bart about Bart changing the timeline messing things up for Danny and effectively erasing his family, because the change made it so Maddie and Jack never got together. But because of Clockwork sending him on a mission to the past while Bart changed the timeline and the medallion Dan had phased into Danny he remembers the old timeline. Also he has access to his powers but for some reason can’t change into ghost form.
This fight happens in front of the rest of the young justice team. And Nightwing was coming there to teach a training lesson and over hears half of what Danny is shouting.
From Dick’s point of view there is a black haired, blue eyed kid with powers that are suspiciously like a Tamuraneans, yelling at Bart about losing his family because his parents never got together. Also Dick and Kori had recently broken up. (Feel free to make up a reason.)
Due to a misunderstanding Dick is going to help his time displaced “son” adjust to the new reality.
Do I tag people too much? @azulhood @bianca-hooks123 @bloggerspam @confusedshades @dragonsrequiem @evilminji @flamingpudding @fightmebissh @ghostbsuter @hypewinter @help-itrappedmyself @hdgnj @kizzer55555 @menolly5600 @ourrechte-blog @puppetmaster13u @rboooks @starlightcat04 @stormikitty @virgamsysxvolumes @zeestarfishalien @zylev-blog
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Do whatever you want, believe whatever you want. And using Veilguard as any sort of source for anything remotely related to canon Lore is just ridiculous. It's so... awful, IMHO, to use it to defend any sort of point.
I'm not certain if this would be considered critical, so I'll put it under a cut. Potentially critical of Veilguard.
Though I'm really just talking about the Lore.
I point out 4 massive retcons in Veilguard that blew my mind and that I see people commonly using as arguing points. And yes, if someone wants to pay me for the time, I can prove all of it with sources.
What little canon Lore they actually used in Veilguard? They twisted beyond recognition.
Just a few examples.
1. The blight is NOT, in fact, (or even in Veilguard) 'everywhere in the Fade'. It has always been contained to the Black City, that floats disconnected from everything else in the Fade. It's why the previously golden city is black ffs! Even in Veilguard, it's really damned obvious that the Fade isn't full of blight. We hop in and out of the Fade throughout the whole damned game like it's a shopping mall.
2. The Fade is not full of demons. Demons are spirits (people) of emotion. What usually twists them into demons is coming through the veil! The only reason there was the big demon in DAI is because it was attached to Coryphyfish. There's probably some, but it's an arguable point that an emotion spirit of, say, anger, or spite is actually a demon. Emotions aren't bad. They wouldn't automatically be demons simply because they reflect a negative emotion.
3. The veil has been canonically choking the life and magic out of Thedas for thousands of years. If the veil didn't come down, there would be no Thedas. This is clearly spelled out in canon. The veil was never meant to be part of the world. At the end of Trespasser, the veil is as holey as my grandmother's doilies. It's not as they tried to depict it in Veilguard, a firm, whole wall holding hordes of demons and the blight of blights back. That's such a bullshit retcon, and I make weird faces every time I try to figure out the mental gymnastics necessary for someone to come up with that idea.
4. It's also a massive retcon that Solas lies. (Sigh. Yes. It really is. No matter what you believe.) He canonically does not. They rewrote his character for DAI so that he doesn't lie because it weakened the character. He was originally written as much more similar to Blackwall. They decided it weakened Solas as a character and made sure he doesn't lie. He obfuscates, misleads, doesn't answer, and is really good at letting people make assumptions or even leading people to make assumptions. Because that is what a Trickster does! But in all of DAI and Trespasser, he does not lie except once. At the Winter Palace when you ask him where he got the experience of court. No. A 'lie of omission' is not a lie by the definition or philosophical understanding of what a lie is. You, as the player, not paying close attention to what he says doesn’t mean he lies either! He is not the 'god of lies'. That's Epler's hate shining through. Throughout 3 games, many dlcs, books, comics, short stories, the Dread Wolf is known as the Trickster. The god of rebellion and sometimes the god of betrayal. He is never once referred to as the god of lies in anything pre-veilguard. It's. Bullshit.
And Solas is an absolutely terrible liar. He stumbles all over himself trying to do it in the winter palace. It's hilarious tbh.
There were more retcons. But I need to go help with dinner.
Just, even if you liked Veilguard, don't use it as a defense in any sort of discussion of Lore. Perhaps listen to us Lore fiends, instead? Because they shat all over the Lore for Veilguard.
Real talk? It makes you look ignorant to anyone who actually has been paying attention to the Lore.
FWIW? I'm not in the best of moods right now. Please think twice, then a third time before responding/reblogging in disagreement. (Unless you're polite and actually have sources I haven't seen. I'm usually willing to have polite discussions or answer questions. I'm also willing to stand corrected if people actually can prove me wrong with sources attached. A 'nuhn unh, Solas lies cause I believe he does', won't get you far with me.) Nor will using anything from DAV to support an argument. I've relegated DAV to the graveyard of not-canon because of the complete disrespect of the Lore.
And I'll just laugh at you if you try to attack me. Internet randos filling my responses with shit doesn't phase me, bother me in the slightest, or make me upset. I find it incredibly, laugh out loud amusing because I've lived through so much more than that in my life.
#dragon age#solas#solavellan#dragon age inquisition#dragon age veilguard#veilguard#da veilguard#dragonage#bioware critical
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Revel im coming to your door step begging and pleading for anything Bee related, one shot, hcs, smut fluff WHATEVER..just give me whatever you want and I'll DEVOUR IT. I'm on my period and hella emotional and i burn through all your fics so fast i just- UGH 😭
on another note i hope you're having a day far FAR better than me and just good over all, love you! n thank you!! 🫶🏻
Sure! Fluff and 18+ Mass displaced mech scenario 🌶️
Earthspark Bumblebee x Reader Scenarios
Comfort
• “You’re being quiet today.” There’s no judgement in his soft voice and you appreciate that so much. Just like he hadn’t complained when you’d caught his hand and pulled it to you, encouraging him to drape it across your middle. Enjoying the heat of his touch. Laying back against him under an apple tree and letting the sun warm you, you tip your head back against his heated chassis. “Everything okay?” Like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong and and you smile up at him.
• “Just a little off today,” you say, a hand resting on top of his. He’s been around you long enough to understand that for a week or so a month, you might be quieter than normal or even snap at him and feel immediately bad about it. And that you’re too embarrassed to talk about whatever it is. So he’d asked Dot and she’d told him. In excruciating detail what the problem most likely was. Giving him a lesson on human reproduction that he hadn’t really been expecting. Or particularly wanted.
• Tracing little circles on the back of his hand, you ask him for a story and he tells you about before the war. About a city that’s gone now, destroyed in the fighting, but that he remembers with such longing in his voice that your own chest aches. Relaxing against him, you let his touch and voice soothe away the discomfort and distract you.
Smut
• Warm palm sliding up your spine as you lay on your belly, legs dangling over the edge of the container he’d bent you over, your body’s humming where he’s been teasing you for what feels like forever. Can feel his erect spike leaving a damp trail against your inner thigh as he bends over you, mouth peppering soft kisses against the back of your neck. And he shifts against you, the head of his spike sliding so close to where you need him as he presses a soft bite against your neck, sucking and nipping the spot until you know he’s trying to leave a mark. Something he’d become obsessed with after finding out how easily he can mark you. “Bee, please,” you whimper, down to begging as his spike slides against you. Right there when you’re aching for him.
• Humming softly as his mouth slides to a new, lower spot, he reaches between your bodies to grip his spike and slide himself against your slick heat just to make you whimper again. Hurting to be inside you, but wanting to take his time with you. “You’re so wet for me aren’t you?” He growls, finding you and slowly driving deep. Smiling when you wiggle as much as you can in the position you’re in, trying to get him to move while he just wants to savor this. The feel of you wrapped so tight around his spike. “Tell me what you need.”
• “Fast,” you manage, resting your cheek on an arm and feeling his servos grip your hips. The first deep thrust a sharp snap of his hips before he’s growling against your neck, mouth and denta teasing your shoulder as moves inside you. Keeping you pinned where he wants you. Optics shuttering as he listens to the sounds you make. Those little gasps and moans, the wet sounds of his spike pumping inside you. Feeling you begin to squirm, trying to push back to meet his thrusts and he pins you better just to make you whine a protest. “Bee, please.” Squirming a hand under you to play with you until your hips are bucking, until you cry out and tighten on him. Fisting his spike so tightly and he keeps moving, hips snapping until he shakily catches himself on his forearms to keep from crushing you. Hips still rocking urgently as he fills you, pressing deep and groaning against your skin and fighting the urge to spark you. Every time it’s a little harder to resist and knows he’s going to have to have the discussion with you eventually. Because he wants it so bad. Wants to claim you so thoroughly you’ll never need anything but this, him.
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Unrequited Love Reader and Pure Vanilla Angst bc I’ve been sad these days. (Not canon to the main story.)
The moon is captivating, you think. How it shines and covers you with its light as if it were the critic and you the performer. You feel like you’re trapped on a stage. And no matter how you try to divert the narrative, someone always finds a way to put you back in your role. And you suppose that you’re not in the wrong. You are in Shadow Milk Cookie’s domain, after all. The need to be comforted fills your heart as a tear falls down and wets your cheek, clinging to your chin.
You smell the faint scent of vanilla before you hear him talk. “[Name] Cookie, oh, I am so sorry to interrupt, but I can’t help but worry about you. You’ve been acting a bit…”
You’re a bit annoyed, no, scratch that. You’re really pissed off. Your mind can’t comprehend what’s his deal. Pure Vanilla Cookie is someone who cares about his friends and people. He’s kind, empathetic and lovely. But at what point does he help because he really feels like it? Or he just does it out of duty? Is he always genuine?
“Why are you asking, Pure Vanilla Cookie? What would you do if something was wrong?” He seems surprised by your tone but doesn’t comment on it. It takes him a good minute to answer, calm and firmly.
“I would do anything in my power, you do know that, right? You are my friend, my old friend, you can count on me.”
Shaking your head, you smile, but it feels like a grimace. Of course, you knew he was going to say that. He always says the same things, just in different fonts. You know that it shouldn't hurt you; you’re feeling like this because you are allowing it. At least, that is what you think. “That’s so cruel…you can’t say that you’d do anything and then just call me a friend.”
“Pardon me? [Name] Cookie,” His eyes are open now, and you can’t look at him, so you convince yourself that the floor is more beautiful. “You would do the same, is that right? You told me…”
“Ugh, let's stop dancing around this topic,” Frustration and anger flares up and helps you ignore the uncomfortable dread in your body. “I told you that because I did not mean it as just a friend. I love you, but right now, I hate you a bit for it.”
You finally look at Pure Vanilla Cookie, and his face is just so pretty that it makes you feel sickly. He’s not looking at you. “I am terribly sorry…but I can’t—“ With furrowed brows and a hoarse voice, he tries to reject you as softly as possible.
“I understand, you don't have to reject me. I was just stating it.” You can’t hear him finish that sentence. Somehow, it feels like if that thought materializes, I’ll turn true. And you so foolishly try to keep some hope for your heart.
“…[Name] Cookie,” For the first time since he found you, he approaches and holds both your hands. “I’m not very good at this. But thank you for telling me. And- we can still be friends If that’s…what you want?”
You agree and reassure him that nothing will change and that soon this feeling will go away. Bizarrely enough, you think that it may happen sooner than you’d expect.
It’s been a while! As I said, I’ve been struggling a bit these days but I’m better. Please feel free to share your opinion on this fic as long as it’s respectful. And no, this is not canon. In the main story, the reader does not confess to Pure Vanilla. Maybe someday.
#nooray updates#no use of y/n#crk x reader#crk x you#unrequited love story#pure vanilla cookie x reader#but it’s one-sided
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Answer- Berlin (Song Jung-ho)
The silence was deafening inside the Korea Unified Mint. The only sound was the labored breathing of the people next to you, all blindfolded with a red cloth over their eyes. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your sweaty hands clenched into fists. You couldn't see anything, but you could feel the imposing presence of the masked robbers around you.Suddenly, a phone rang.
"You. Answer the phone."Berlin’s deep, authoritative voice made you flinch. There was an amused tone in his words, almost a smirk hidden behind his mask. You felt a hand gently grab your arm, guiding you forward.
Instinctively, in your confusion, you grabbed onto Berlin’s arm, clutching it in fear of tripping. He paused for a moment and then chuckled softly.
"Oh? Getting attached already?" he whispered, amused.
The warmth of his body was reassuring, but the panic inside you refused to subside. Your hands were trembling as you finally reached the phone. Sensing your unsteady breathing, Berlin took your hands in his, his touch surprisingly gentle.
"Breathe, Y/N. Small breaths. Like this."His voice had softened, becoming hypnotic, almost soothing. You tried to obey, but the tension made it difficult to even follow his instructions.
Berlin sighed, and before you could understand what was happening, his lips brushed against yours in an unexpected kiss.It was brief, but enough to make you forget your fear for a moment. Your breathing steadied as the warmth of his lips left an indelible mark on yours.
He pulled away just slightly, his lips still dangerously close to yours."Now you can answer the phone, darling." he said with a mischievous smile.
Your heart was still racing as you tried to collect yourself. You took several small, shaky breaths, trying to calm your nerves. With your hand, you blindly searched for the phone, your fingers trembling slightly as they grazed over the cold, metal surface. Finally, you grasped the phone, holding it tightly in your hand.
"Y-yes?" you managed to speak, your voice quivering slightly.
Berlin leaned closer to you, his breaths caressing your ear. You could feel the heat emanating from his body, the subtle scent of masculine cologne filling your nostrils.
"Good girl," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now, I want you to listen carefully. Do exactly as I say, understood?
You nod and answer. "Korea Unified Mint. , who's speaking?" you said trying to be as normal as possible. Berlin leaned even closer to you, his body now practically pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you couldn't help but shiver slightly.
"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
The phone line crackled to life, and a voice spoke up."Is this Y/N?"
You recognized the voice on the other end, a familiar one that you couldn't place."Y-yes, it is," you replied, your voice still shaken with fear. Berlin chuckled softly, amused by your nervousness. He seemed to be enjoying the situation far too much for your liking.
"Say something charming, darling," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear once more. Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity of his lips, but you tried to calm yourself down. You took a deep breath and attempted to speak as normally as possible, despite the fear and the presence of Berlin.
"How can I assist you today?" you responded, your voice slightly shaky but mostly steady. Berlin's smirk widened, clearly pleased with your attempt at normality. He ran a hand through your hair, his fingers gently grazing your scalp. His touch was strangely intimate, sending a shiver down your spine.
The voice on the other end of the phone spoke again, unaware of the bizarre situation that was unfolding."What happened to the network?"
Berlin's hand moved from your hair, trailing down to your jaw, his touch almost possessive. “We had a network failure,” you say, trying to remain as normal as possible.
Berlin's fingers traced a path along your jawline, his touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the situation."A network failure, huh?" he mused, his hand now resting on your cheek. "How convenient."
You could feel your heart racing beneath Berlin's touch, the conflicting emotions coursing through your body. Fear and attraction warred within you, creating a dizzying mix of sensations.The voice on the phone continued, oblivious to the tension in the air."When will the system be back online?”
“I don't know, we're working it out, I have to go now” you say and put the phone down finishing the call. Berlin let out a soft hum of approval as you put the phone down. His hand remained on your cheek for a moment longer before he slowly withdrew it.
"Impressive," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You handled that quite well, darling." You could feel the weight of Berlin's gaze on you as you stood there, trying to regain your composure. His touch lingered on your skin, leaving a burning trail of sensation in its wake.
He stepped closer to you, his body almost pressing against yours. "You have nerve, I like that," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Berlin's hand came up again, and this time, it was his fingertips tracing lightly along your collarbone. The touch was so painfully intimate, it sent heat pooling in your stomach despite yourself.
"I could use someone with your... talents," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. His hand continued its journey, exploring the curve of your neck, mapping out every inch of your skin. His touch was feather-light, but it seemed to sear your flesh with its intensity.
You remained frozen in place, your mind a chaotic mess of confusion and excitement. Berlin clearly relished in your turmoil, his smirk growing wider as he watched you struggle to maintain your composure.
"From now on you will be separated from the other hostages and you will stay with me, you will be my assistant" Berlin murmurs, caressing your side. You felt a mix of emotions coursing through you as Berlin gave his order. Fear, intrigue, and a strange sense of anticipation flooded your senses.
His hand on your side felt like a brand, leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched. You could feel the power in his grip, the strength contained within him.
"Your... assistant?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your nervousness. Berlin chuckled softly, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path along your ribs. "Yes, my dear," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You will be my personal assistant, attending to my every need, fulfilling my every request."
His hand came up to your chin, tilting your face towards his. His gaze held yours captive, his eyes dark and intense."You should feel lucky," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your jawline. "Not just anyone gets to experience the privilege of being my assistant."
You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine as Berlin continued his gentle exploration of your body. His touch felt both soothing and terrifying at the same time.
"What exactly will this... job entail?" you finally managed to ask, your voice still trembling slightly. Berlin smirked, the fire in his eyes growing brighter. He moved closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you couldn't help but notice the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took.
"Well," Berlin murmured, his hand moving down to your waist, his fingers tracing possessive circles on the exposed skin above your hip bone. "It will require your complete obedience, your unwavering loyalty, and your utter submission."
You swallowed hard, the words striking a nerve deep within you. Something about Berlin's demand sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.
He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching your ear. "You will be at my beck and call, ready to attend to me regardless of the situation," he whispered, his voice sultry and commanding. "Do you think you can handle that, darling?"
You nodded slowly, unable to trust your voice to speak without trembling. Berlin noticed the subtle movement and chuckled softly, a low, dark sound that set your heart racing."Good girl," he murmured. "I can already tell you'll be a fast learner."
Berlin's lips brushed lightly against your skin as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent. You could feel the heat of his breath against your neck and the slight brush of his stubble against your skin."Vanilla and coconut," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "A delightful combination. So sweet... just like you, darling."
His words sent tingles down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver in response. Berlin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you."You're even more responsive than I thought," he said, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "So sensitive... so receptive."
Berlin continued his exploration of your body, his nose tracing a path along your neck. At the same time, you could hear the sound of the other hostages, their voices carrying fear and concern. Berlin seemed amused by this, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Don't mind them, darling," he said, his lips hovering near your ear. "They're simply afraid of the unknown... of men like us."
Berlin squeezes your side and then puts his arm on your shoulder to lead you to the others. "Come darling, I have to make a little speech"
You sigh, realizing that your survival depended on staying in Berlin’s good graces there was no other choice. Resigned, you accepted your fate.
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genuine question because youre one of my favorite writers, you seem to really have a thorough grasp of the characters: what do you see in rafayel that makes him appealing? i try to get past his entitled brattiness because i really want to enjoy all of the guys, but i cant see anything else. please help me understand 🥲
Oh boy, baby, darling, sweetheart, you opened a can of worms. Come do a little bit of character analysis with me~
About Rafayel:
Rafayel is a brat, yes. But that means he wears his heart on his sleeve, outright when he needs your attention or sulking when something is bothering him or faking a dramatic accident to get your attention. There's no silent guessing or fake "I'm fine's," just his overdramatic, raw emotion that's easy to read. He's has anxious attachment stemming from hundreds of years of betrayal and loss.
Rafayel is a romantic, a yearner. And yes, while I also agree his attitude was annoying at first I am very unfortunately into people who get on my nerves, especially when they are flirty and funny as well. I folded during his hospital scene.
Entitled? He is a god. He has been trying and failing to save his entire civilization for over 800 years and still simply can't because he refuses to hurt the one he loves. While all the boys have been through pain there's something about Rafayel's story that really gets me. I think it’s because if I— as mc— knew the sacrifice he was making, I would give myself up. So to have someone selfish enough to place me first is heartbreaking, devoted, and cruel.
Also there are plenty of scenes where Rafayel is serious, especially if you read between the lines. The brattiness and sass is a playful cover to someone who's been through pain and understands it. Someone who chooses to still see joy and happiness in his life while fully understanding how cruel the world is.
Simply, I'm a sucker for doomed character archetypes. There is no version of Rafayel's and mc's story where they both end happy. Millions of people will die or if mc kills herself Rafayel will live forever as a husk of his former self. Using a sassy, filirty, bratty attitude to cover up such a genuinely depressing story is so juicy to me.
About Me:
I'm a Zayne irl. Work is honestly the most important thing to me outside my family, I'm devoted to my hobbies and leadership positions, and I have a close circle of friends I would do anything for. I'm also fucking hilarious subjective.
I'm the eldest sibling, the guard dog, the de-facto leader for almost everything. I'm the person who had to grow up fast, to parent my immigrant parents at times, who never made space for love, and who is by default independant and comfortable with it.
I prefer to listen-- I love my yapper friends. Don't get me wrong I can talk for hours about anything, but day to day I tend to get exhausted talking after a while so I surround myself with people who can do the easy talking for me.
My irl partner is a mix between Rafayel and Sylus I'd say. He's the one who pulls me out of my work spirals by nagging me until I give in, someone I'm comfortable yapping about my current hyperfixations too, someone who my inner child can come out to. But I also enjoy being a caregiver, that's always been my role and I relish in it, I like being relied upon as much as I appreciate having someone in my life that lets me take a step back. The only part that's Sylus is how his love language is bullying me and his vibe/looks lmao, but usually I am more into raf-stereotypical pretty boys.
So, overall, the appeal of Rafayel to those that choose him:
Rafayel is for the eldest daughters who needs their inner child to be free, who needs a little bit of ridiculousness and impulsiveness in their lives.
Rafayel is for those who never got praised for their effort or strength, for those who success was the only option, who had to be perfect, reliable and serious all the time. He makes it so clear how much simply being with you means to him, constantly complimenting, flirting, and reassuring you just how much he needs you. Showing you how obsessed with you he is.
Rafayel is for those who didn't think love had a place in their lives due to shit family or life circumstances. He proves time and time again that you're the only one he loves. Even though he's lived forever, you were worth the wait and that he would wait again for you, no matter how long it takes. He proves you can be loved, and that it comes easy.
Rafayel is for those who always placed others first. He's more than willing to show you again and again you will always be first in his mind. He needs you more than he does water. Sure, you can take care of him, but he wants to be with you and take care of you, too.
Rafayel is for those who need someone else to drag them out of work/school/spiralling even when they don't want to admit it, bringing in laughter, color, and a little bit of dramatics.
Rafayel is for creators who dedicate themselves to their craft, who are scared of losing this "spark," who want to get better but constantly feel that what they create isn't enough or must be more.
Rafayel is for hopeless romantics, those that go out of their way to surprise their friends during their birthdays, those who plan platonic dates for those they care about, those who put out so much love into the world and suddenly break when they get that love back.
Rafayel is for those used to having little siblings or those to take care of in our lives. Only while Rafayel relishes in the attention, he's also ready to give it back five-fold.
Rafayel is a switch for switch (brat for brat) lmao. He's for those who like to start on top, teasing and pushing his buttons to get all those cute reactions out of him, just until he breaks. Then he can take control and finish us up. We love vocal men.
Maybe projecting, but Rafayel is the perfect bi-girl's boyfriend. He's a classic pretty boy, unafraid to be in touch with his feminine side, a little dramatic, a little artsy. But he's also super romantic, sensitive, loving, and intense. And gosh, who could say no to those big puppy eyes?
I could probably continue to talk about Rafayel for hours, but ya, hopefully this helps answer why I and others love this man. Just continue on with the main story and read between the lines with his dialogue and I'm sure you'll pick up on it too~
#ask 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓#poison's raf obsession#lads rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace
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