#she makes him feel more like Wisdom then she does /this/

[quintessenceofdust88]

Wip Wednesday

Omgg I was tagged by @bidisasterevankinard and I managed to publish it with ONE MINUTE of Wednesday to spare on my timezone hehe So here, have a little bit of a fluffy fix-it I'm working on, where Thomas needs some old lady wisdom to get his shit together. Also, it's a way for you to meet my most darling OC, Nonna Rosa. Hope you enjoy it!

--

A week after breaking up with Evan, Tommy is still feeling like shit. He can barely sleep, anything he tries to eat tastes like sawdust, and he feels like he’s living on autopilot. He goes to work, he comes back home, he tries to eat, he tries to sleep, rinse and repeat. Nothing else matters, there’s nothing else he feels like doing. He doesn’t answer Howie’s texts asking how he’s doing (he answered the first one, telling Howie not to worry about him, but can’t do more than that); he completely ignores Eddie’s invitation for Muay Thai and basketball, and he comes up with an excuse as to why he can’t make karaoke bar that Thursday. And yet, there’s one thing he can’t put off, as much as he wishes to: talking to his Nonna. 

Tommy calls his grandmother at least once a week; she still lives in Indiana, in the same house he spent most of his childhood in, and he knows his uncle Bart visits often. But he likes to hear from her himself. Visiting her is a rare occasion with his work schedule, and the last time he was able to was about four months ago. The minute he had stepped in, Nonna had asked him if he was ‘innamorato’, because he was looking so much happier than usual.

And he knows she’ll perceive his sadness just as quick, if not quicker. The woman has always been able to read him like an open book. She’s probably the only person alive who can; he’s always made sure to keep his layers hidden from everyone else, even from… 

Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? 

Fact is, that if he misses his call with Nonna, it’ll be even worse. She’ll know something’s up, and he doesn’t put past her to fly across the country to check on him (he’s always been the favorite grandson and everyone knows it). So it’s best to get it over with. Gosh, Nonna’ll be unconsolable; she’s been pestering Tommy to introduce her to his ‘Evanino’ for ages now, and instead… With a heavy sigh, he sits down on his couch (and tries not to think about how empty it feels when it’s just him in there) and rings her up, bracing himself.

“Pronto? Tommasino?” She answers the call, as always with the camera too close to her face, and that at least brings a smile to his face. -- Np tagging @typicalopposite @unhingedangstaddict @30somethingautisticteacher @actuallyitsellie

[thebookworm0001]

Writing the dialogue for the scene where Ellana and Solas discuss her role in Cole becoming more human because oooooooooh the parallels are paralleling

[autisticaradiamegido]

thoughts on dave and aradia (<>)?

day 356

BIG fan tbh. in this house we love and respect timerails

truly yall read this log and tell me theyre not cute

[peachessndreamss]

Weirwood Tree

Summery : While in labour with their second child, Cregan and his wife take s short walk to the Weirwood tree to help get things moving.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Pregnancy and childbirth (nothing explicit)

Word count : 3k

A/N : Turns out you never shake being a Stark girl, Ily Cregan so much.

“I’m sorry t’say it, my lady, but your labours have slowed up,” the midwife said softly as she drew the sheets back over Lady Starks bent knees before dipping her hands in a bowl of water. 

“Slowed up?” Lady Stark repeated incredulously, dropping her head back on the feather pillow, “but it's been hours already,” she added, tears burning her eyes. 

The second child of Lord Cregan stark and his lady wife was in no rush to make their way into the world. Despite the frequency and strength of her earlier pains once the midwife and maester had been sent for, everything seemed to have come to an uncomfortable halt.  

The midwife had brought her ancient grandmother along with her, known through Winterfell and the winter town as Auld Joan, she had been a midwife in her own time and had delivered Cregan's father and uncle. She was mostly blind and deaf now but still attended births but spent most of the time sitting as close to a heat source as possible and dispensing wisdom if necessary. She was currently sitting in a chair next to the roaring fire, her ancient hands clasped on her lap, knuckles bulging out of shape and fingers curled like claws. 

“I know it's been a while,” the midwife said soothingly, placing a warm hand on Lady Stark's knee, “but sometimes it's just like this,”. 

“The last one wasn't like this,” Lady Stark grumbled, her mood darkening as she tried to shift around into a more comfortable position. 

“You mustn't compare one with another,” the midwife soothed before touching a cold cloth to the lady's forehead. 

“A walk will geyit moving ,” the old woman wheezed from her seat by the fire, “no’ this lying about,”. 

The maester, who had been mostly disinterested in proceedings up until this point shot the old woman a dark look, he was standing in the far corner of the room, a leather case of vicious metal tools clutched jealously to his chest. His grey robes matched his grey and sickly looking skin. He wasn't particularly interested in births or deaths or the everyday ailments of life and resented being summoned to the birthing room of any woman. 

“This position is agreed upon as being the correct way for labouring mothers,” he said coldly in a clipped southern accent. 

“Agreed by men who know nothing about it,” the crone grumbled. 

“What does she mean?” Lady Stark asked the midwife who was now gently feeling the swell of the lady's belly. 

“Baby's not quite in righ’ place, that's why things have slowed,” she explained as she pressed on the left side of the belly, Lady Stark winced, “but grandmother thinks a little walk might get things moving again,”. 

The midwife glanced over at her grandmother who had closed her eyes and was now looking peaceful in the flickering light of the fire, she looked back at her lady and dabbed the cloth over her cheeks before putting it back beside the bowl of cold water. 

“What do you think?”Lady Stark asked. 

She shrugged, making a point not to look towards the maester before replying. 

“It helped me with mine, and it wouldn't do you any harm,”. 

The maester opened his mouth to disagree and lady stark held up her hand to silence him. 

“Just walking through the keep, out into the godswood for the fresh air should do it,” the midwife continued. 

The lady nodded and lifted herself up onto her elbows, she addressed the maester, privately enjoying ordering the sour faced man about. 

“Lord Cregan is outside the door, fetch him in,” she said. 

Cregan Stark had paced the halls outside of his wife's rooms since he'd been asked to leave them several hours before. While he wasn't accustomed to being removed from parts of his own castle he respected that father's, even lords, were not expected to be present at the births of their children,so he was surprised to hear the door opening when he was fairly certain nothing much had happened yet. 

“My Lord?” The voice of the maester echoed off the walls as the lord strode into view, “your wife would like to see you,”. 

He nodded, his face stern as he stepped past the man and into the warm, dark room. 

“Seven Hells,” he murmured as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, instantly feeling the heat of the room rolling over him like a wave, sweat breaking out on his forehead and upper lip. 

As he looked around the room he was surprised to see the midwife helping his wife into her fur boots, a long, heavy cloak already covering her shoulders. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She turned her flushed face to him and smiled. 

“Yes, we're going for a walk,”. 

Cregan’s brows rose but he nodded without further comment, knowing better than to ask questions.  He watched nervously as the midwife helped his wife to her feet, ready to spring forward at any moment if it looked like Lady Stark might lose her balance. 

Once he was happy she was safely on her feet, Cregan stepped towards them, offering his arm to his wife, who took a small step and linked her arm through his. 

“Twice around the godswood’ll do it,” Auld Joan spoke from the chair, she opened one ancient eye that could just be seen through the folds of skin that made up her face. 

“Or as far as you need’t,” the midwife added, her eyes flicking towards the maester. 

From the darkest corner of the room the maester muttered under his breath “foolishness” but no one else could hear him or pay him a moment's more attention. 

As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell stepped out of the stifling room and into the cooler corridor of the keep they both gave a sigh of relief. As they walked they instinctively drew closer to one another. Finding comfort and strength in each other's presence. 

“This is an unexpected pleasure,” Cregan said as they stepped through the door of the keep and into the much colder air of the inner bailey. The ground was a mess of mud, straw, snow and grey brown slush that cracked and crunched under their boots. 

“Yes,” she agreed, her hand tightening on his arm as her foot slipped a little on a patch of hidden ice, “Auld Joan felt this would be the best way to get things moving again,”. 

Cregan nodded, “She's seen a fair few babes born in her time, she knows what she's talking about,” he paused and took a deep breath of cold air, “I think she might have even delivered my grandfather,”. 

“Surely not!” She exclaimed, looking up at her husband's handsome profile, “that would make her more than a hundred years old,”. 

“I've heard of stranger things in these parts,” Cregan said with a shrug. 

They walked quietly together, moving slowly and carefully through the slush.

“Not as easy as last time then?” He asked as they made their way past the archery butts where the young men of the household were practising and past the stables with their snorting horses and young boys shovelling straw. 

“No, this one seems to have an obstinate Stark streak in them already,” she replied with a soft laugh that sounded like music to Cregan's ears. 

“I seem to recall your own family are known for their stubbornness so I won't be taking all the responsibility for that,”. 

“Pigheadedness, I believe my father called it,” she replied with a laugh, Cregan gave his own snort of laughter. 

“Your father certainly has a way with words,” he agreed. Recalling a few choice phrases her father had used for him during their courtship. 

As the pair crossed into the godswood the sounds of the keep and the town beyond the walls seemed to fade away and they became the only two people in the world. The ground was covered in a dusting of snow which had frozen overnight and now crunched under foot. From the dark canopy of the trees small birds sang between themselves and bounced from branch to branch, leaves rusting and falling to the ground in their wake. 

“Aly is worried we won't have enough time for her when the baby arrives,” Lady Stark said as they passed under the first dark boughs, “she kept asking me if we were going to send her away when I was putting her to bed last night,”. 

“She's a sensitive soul,” Cregan replied with a soft laugh, his mind wandering to the little girl who was at that moment playing in the same nursery he played in as a child, waiting for his own younger sibling to be born. 

“I dread the day we do need to send her away,” she lamented, drawing her body even closer to his in the cold air. Her free hand resting low on the swell of her belly. 

“We've many years before that day, my love,” he soothed, “and perhaps many more babes to fill our home,”. 

Lady Stark laughed softly, feeling the dull ache of her labours growing in strength as they followed the well known path through the trees.

“You are insatiable, always wanting more,” she said softly and Cregan laughed. 

They had been married 6 years and now were as comfortable with one another as any married couple could expect to be. Having been friends before they’re union had made things easier but the months after Cregan’s return from war had tested them to their limits. The time spent apart had been long and difficult for the both of them, when Cregan had left he was already old beyond his years but on his return he was darker and colder than the longest winter night. He’d forgotten laughter, softness and gentleness and his first few months back in Winterfell had been fraught as the two learned to live with one another again and find their way back to the happiness they’d briefly shared before the dragons tore the realm apart. 

The followed a well trodden path through the woods, her arm wrapped tightly through his and his hand resting over hers, warm and solid. As they walked, Cregan listened to her breathing, noticing every change to her breath and hitch in her voice. He was ready to take her in his arms at any moment to rush her back to the midwife if was necessary. 

They turned a corner in the path and were now on course to the weirwood tree, its ancient face seemed to watch their approach and its blood red leaves reflected in the black water at its roots. 

Suddenly Lady Stark stopped, her free hand going to her belly with a sharp intake of breath, she groaned, her teeth biting into her top lip as a strong contraction wracked her body. Cregan tightened his hold on her, fear gripping at his heart and twisting his stomach. 

After a few seconds of pain her face relaxed and her eyes opened, her cheeks were flushed with colour and despite the cold there was sweat at her hair line. 

“I think this might be working,” she said with a small smile, “or perhaps the baby can feel the tree,” she added, glancing toward the weirwood. 

“A good Stark then,” Cregan replied, forcing a lightness in his voice he didn’t feel. 

She stepped toward the tree and he followed her closely, never letting her more than an arm's reach from him. Once close enough she placed her hands on the tree, feeling the rough bark rasp against her skin. 

“Do you think the old kings of the north were born under this tree?” she asked, turning her face up as a shaft of wintery sunlight broke through the dense leaf cover, “snow and leaves for their midwife?”.

Cregan raised his eyebrow in thought for a moment before replying. 

“They were certainly conceived under it,” he smiled.   

“Yes, I remember the stories,” she agreed, turning to look at her husband and seeing the playful glimmer in his eyes. 

During the long months of the war she’d found comfort in the thousands of books in the Winterfell library, starting with the histories of the North going all the way back to the first men and how those ancient kings of the North did everything important in their lives in sight of a weirwood tree, they were born, married, made oaths and died as close to the trees as they possibly could. The histories had included stories of rituals the ancient peoples had contrived to conceive their children under the boughs of the weirwood trees, they believed these children would have the gifts of prophecy or live impossibly long lives because the powers of the tree flowed through them. 

“Perhaps, when you’re healed, we should try it ourselves,” Cregan teased. 

“When this one is delivered I’ll let you know if you’ll be welcome in my bed again,” she replied with a sly smile, before adding “my lord,”. 

Cregan gave a bark-like laugh, stepping closer to her and slipping his arm over her lower back and around her waist. She turned to face him, moving her hands from the ancient and cold bark of the tree to the living warmth of his shoulders, she studied his features before taking a deep breath and letting her forehead press against his. Another contraction wracked her body, she groaned and gripped tightly at the fur and wool of his cloak, taking strength from his body into her own. 

“I think we need to go back,” she said softly, their foreheads still pressed together. 

“I think so,” he agreed without hesitation.

Keeping his arm wrapped around her waist the two of them turned, she leaned heavily on Cregan as they completed the loop around the godswood and headed back through the castle courtyard. The space now almost completely empty as most of the household had been summoned for the midday meal. 

The progress was slow but they soon made it back to Lady Stark’s chambers, the room was cooler now, the windows had been thrown open but the coverings drawn across them to keep the room dark. The two women were sitting by the fire, talking quietly while the maester was still standing in the corner of the room, glaring. 

The midwife jumped to her feet and took Lady Stark’s arm, allowing her to slip from Cregan’s hold and move toward the bed. 

“How are you feeling my lady?” the midwife asked softly. 

“It helped, the pains are coming much more quickly now,” the lady replied. 

“Baby will be here soon,” the midwife agreed, “perhaps before the noon meal is over,”

Lady Stark glanced over her shoulder at her husband pausing by the door. His broad shoulders blocked out almost all of the hallway behind him.

“I want you to stay,” she said softly as she was helped back onto the bed. 

He smiled but shook his head. 

“This is not my place” he said softly, as he felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat and in his eyes as he fought the sudden overwhelm of emotions. 

“Thank you, my lord,” the old crone said from her seat, “we’ll take care of them,”.

Cregan nodded, knowing well enough when he was being asked to leave, he gave his wife a final look before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself and resuming his pacing. He wondered if his own father had paced nervously or if he had taken to the woods to hunt until the deed was over with and the child was cleaned and neatly wrapped in a blanket. He couldn’t imagine being any further than the castle gate while Lady Stark laboured. 

As the midwife predicted the midday meal hadn’t finished before there was the high pitched, squalling cry of a newborn that caused Cregan to stop in his tracks and lean heavily against the wall of the hallway, his hand clutching at his heart that was beating fast enough to burst. 

The door to the chambers opened and the midwife stepped out, a smile on her face as she saw her lord in a moment of unguarded emotion. 

 “A son, my lord, hale and hearty and with plenty to say for himself,” she said, the sounds of the crying child still coming clearly from the room behind her. 

“God's be praised,” Cregan said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“Come meet him,”. 

Cregan felt his knees turn to water when he stepped into Lady Stark's rooms, the sight of his beloved wife cradling a squalling newborn was a joy that pierced his heart like an arrow. 

“Your son, my lord” she said with a tired smile, turning the bundle just enough for Cregan to be able to see the child's face. 

He stooped and took the child, cradling him close to his chest, for a few seconds the child stopped wailing, his blue eyes opening wide and taking in his first sight of his father. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, Cregan's own eyes filling with tears. One hot tear was about to track down Cregan's face when the baby in his arms screwed his eyes shut, opened his mouth and started to howl, his cries even more desperate than before. 

Lady Stark laughed from her seat on the bed, holding her arms out to take the child back. 

“Give him back, you're upsetting our son,” she said, grinning at Cregan who jealously clung onto the child, rocking him gently and trying to sooth the screaming babe. 

“Sorry my boy,” Cregan said softly, “but you'll just have to get used to me,”.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Lying

One day, Billy realizes he can just lie. To press, to the JL (only when they really ask about his identity), and to world. And the best part is that almost no one can prove him wrong, because what’s Black Adam or someone else going to do? Prove him wrong? (I kinda already talked about this but meh) Like here’s something I can see Billy maybe doing because one time and one time alone, a reporter asked and he quotes:

Reporter: “Captain, I’m sure many people are speculating, and I’m sure it’s a question asked often, but who is your Missus Marvel?” *holds mic to Billy’s face*

Marvel: “…Huh?” *Has confused expression* “Can you repeat that?”

Reporter: “Who is your Missus Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uh… Ma’am, there is no—” *Does air quotes* “—Missus Marvel.”

Reporter: “Then who is the mother of Captain Marvel Junior and Mary Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uuuuh… Me? Technically? They’re both made from parts of me, but not parts *gestures to his lower region* of me, no.” *He shook his head.* “If I remember correctly Mary was made about 10000 years ago when one of my arms were chopped off. (He’s lying through his teeth right now. The only reason he hasn’t been caught is because of Achilles allowing him to bullshit his was through without blinking.)

Reporter: “I- I see.” *stunned*

Marvel: “And then Junior’s a…” *snorts* “…leg.” *Muffles a laugh into his hand not realizing no one will get his joke besides Freddy and Mary*

Reporter: *confused by Billy laughing but doesn’t say anything* “Interesting… Are Mary Marvel and Marvel Junior your only children? Spawn? Wards?”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah. I could more though. Like, watch this.” *Literally breaks off his ring finger, splintering the bone and everything without a single flinch. Then drops the finger on the ground and it morphs into what looks like a four year old Marvel. Billy picks him up and holds him like a parent would their toddler.* “It’s super easy.” *He’s even doing the slight bouncing that parents do when they hold their kids.* “But I don’t know… now that I’m holding this one, I’m starting to get attached. We might keep him.” *looks down at the mini Marvel, who in turn looks back at him.*

Reporter: *still horrified she watched a man, if he even is one, snap one of his fingers off like nothing. Said man’s finger nub is also still exposed to the world in all its disgusting glory. Safe to say she’s looking a little green* “O- Oh really?”

Marvel: *moves Mini Marvel around in his grip, and then suddenly throws the toddler like a paper airplane. Thankfully, instead of falling on the ground and splattering like meat pie, Mini Marvel takes to the skies is flying over the nearby crowd and such. Marvel turns back to the reporter.* “Yeah, but before that happens, he’ll have to develop a consciousness and personality. It took a bit for Mary and Junior to develop their own. Now they have their own likes, dislikes, and feelings. Who knows how long it’ll take the little guy.” (Again, he’s bullshitting this completely. He’s mishmashing Solomon’s wisdom on golems with things he makes up on the fly)

Reporter: “That’s… amazing.” *looks greener now. Looks to cameraman and motions for him to cut the feed. As soon as he does, her hand moves to her mouth.* “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.” *runs over to nearest trashcan*

Marvel: “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” *starts to float off the ground* “Thanks for having me, miss!” *Marvel then whistles and Mini Marvel immediately stops entertaining the crowd and flies over to Billy and they fly off into the sunset.*

Elsewhere… Mary’s working an odd job for some money when she sees a tv on the news channel. She nearly has a heart attack because for three brief seconds she thought her dad was holding a young Billy in his arms like he used to. Then she blinked a couple times and realized it was just Billy as Marvel with four year old dressed like him. Fawcett kids really love Captain Marvel, huh?

(Oh yeah, and as for how he made Mini Marvel, he’s my hypothesis. When he broke off his finger, he destabilized its form and it reverted back to a part of living lightning for a brief couple of moments. Then, in an effort to not return back to the rock, as it could sense part of itself still nearby, it stabilized itself once more and forced itself to take the form of a miniature Marvel) (and if anyone makes sense of that, I’ll be darned)

[twinsarekeepers]

“This isn’t the Arch, seaweed brain. You’re not pushing me into the stairwell again.”

First of all, LINE DELIVERY?? Leah Sava Jeffries is an ACTRESS because ‘seaweed brain’ is actually so corny and it would simply feel like fan-service if they included it earlier or in another context but this was so natural and I was so swept up by all the other amazing things happening that I was excited about it but also keyed into the rest of the scene.

But the way this perfectly displays her fatal flaw. She will not let this boy trick her again (spoiler: he does). She was caught off guard at the Arch because she wasn’t familiar with his game but now she’s ready. She WILL die for him and that is final.

“Yes, I am.”

This was CRAZY?? Percy Jackson #1 mentally unstable man because how is he determined to win every ‘sacrifice myself’ off with her? And he says it to her face too. He does not care for the games anymore, he’s fully telling her that he needs her to live.

“I’m not going to let you this time. It doesn’t work that way!”

This made me so incredibly sad. Annabeth is still thinking in transactions. She’s thinking about how he made a sacrifice in the Arch so it’s her turn now. This is how relationships work. This is how every relationship she’s had works. She literally can’t comprehend how he doesn’t see it that way. How he could be selfless enough to sacrifice himself for her TWICE. How he could care about her enough to believe she deserves it even after she was the reason they were in the Arch in the first place (my baby my baby say it with me now you’re my baby).

“It’s why you’re here!”

“Excuse me?”

This was so soft like I just *screaming crying gif*. The last time she said ‘excuse me’ to him she was pissed off about him bringing up Athena but now she’s just confused and sad. Like, she trying to figure out what he means by this. Does he think she’s so heartless and robotic that she’d just let him die for her own gain?

I also love how they don’t have her say ‘what?’ because it just adds this extra layer of how Annabeth has trained herself to be more mature in everything she does, even her language, because she believes that if she’s not perfect, she’s not worthy of love and affection and maybe even existing (literally sobbing wtf).

“When I was choosing my team, I told Chiron I needed someone who wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice me if the quest required it. He agreed. That was you.”

I was confused at first about this because I thought Annabeth knew Percy thought this about her until I went back and watched the choosing ceremony again. He’s definitely keeping his voice lower as he speaks to Chiron and both Chiron and him are raising their voice as they address the other campers so makes sense that she wouldn’t have heard him.

But also, this just adds so much to literally everything. Because, in the beginning, Percy didn’t think him and Annabeth would become friends. He genuinely did think that she would sacrifice him if she had to and he thought he’d be able to curb it. He thought he’d be able to fight Annabeth if it came to it because she might choose the quest over his mom and he couldn’t allow that.

But now here he is, after getting to know her, and seeing her vulnerability and bravery and strength and courage and wisdom and passion and everything that makes her so beautiful and wonderful and amazing and his friend. She’s his friend and she’d never betray him. She’d never sacrifice him. She’d rather sacrifice herself before she ever did anything to harm him.

And he’s apologizing to her. Listen to the way Walker says the last line (again, THE ACTING). It’s literally a confession because he feels so bad that he ever believed that about her. And now he’s making her do it. He’s making her do this thing that he once thought she’d have done without hesitation. He’s thinking about the Fates cutting that string and he’s thinking about his own words to Chiron and how Chiron agreed and he’s thinking about how Annabeth said that prophecies aren’t always clear and he fully believes that he’s figured it out. This is fate. Annabeth would sacrifice him and complete the prophecy. She’ll be the friend that betrays him but not because she wanted to and he will fail to save what matters most, his own life.

This entire exchange was very insane. It’s my Roman Empire. I can’t stop thinking about it because it shows their motivations and their viewpoints and their internal struggles so so so well like I can’t even … I’m having a malfunction.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Platonic Yandere Sea Monster

The ocean is a dangerous entity 

Known for her high waves, immeasurable depths, and eternal mysteries

She entices millions into her cold embrace every day

Many of whom are devoured by said mysteries leaving no trace

One of its greatest mysteries is a creature who’s been roaming beneath the surface of the earth for eons

So it truly is a special occasion that Maelstrom breaks this streak for a feast on a private yacht 

It’s far too easy how this new (to him) bipedal species gawks and helplessly flails while he sucks the bones out of their soft skin

He doesn’t care for the soft innards that the skin holds 

He does like how their screams gurgle and warble as he delights in their crunchy bones

So he makes it his mission to devour or turn into water 

And he’s sure that he’s done so with all of the little crunchy snack bags on the ship

Until he’s led into a cramped little closet with a tiny version of the springy boxes he’d found before

On it was a wailing babe—you

Now that he’s recognized 

Because for all the different species evolution has brought it a crying infant was a common denominator

And you were crying hard

Whether you were the sibling or offspring of some ill-thinking teen or an overworked employee of the crew the one who was going to care for you was gone

And Maelstorm knew that

On the account that he’s certain he’d still be hearing your incessant crying on the entirely silent yacht, he molds his water-like body into something more like the ‘human skin bags’ 

Letting his face bulge and bubble with the vague memory of his meal’s screaming faces until you stop crying

“There…there…my pearl.”

It’s been so long since he’s been awake to have a pet 

Surely it won’t be too hard

…right?

“Aaaaghh!”

“You’re not hungry, you’re not sleepy, you’ve already gone to the bathroom! WHAT IS IT!?”

He’s never been so stressed out 

Stressed out trying to stop your little face from contorting anymore as you empty your little lungs and exhaust your little vocal cords

He eventually decides he does need help and uses one of the less rotted bodies to go on land and learn among these skin bags so that he knows what to do

“Oh poor sir looks like they’re just hungry for some warm hugs.”

“Is that…really all?”

“Why of course! Babies really hinge on your emotions and attention.”

After he takes in the ‘nurse’s’ wisdom he begins to feel something new 

Something full of jealousy that has him snatching your swaddled form before giving a light pat that turns her into a puddle on the floor

Maelstorm easily finds another skin-bag with a nice face to take the body of 

Leaving with a skip in his step while the ‘skin-bags’ authorities baffled over the only remnant of a missing ‘nurse’

“I see now to avoid this awful feeling I must make sure all my affection is being given to my pearl.”

From there you can be sure that you’re entire life will be filled with Maelstorm learning about the negative emotions he can get as you grow

True there will be many positive feelings 

But he learns that to protect those precious new feelings 

Barricading you on abandoned ships and attacking all the skin-bags that come to keep it that way

And even when you grow into the adults he’d previously snacked on

He won’t completely leave humans alone

He pulls back on this snacking habit only because he sees more of you in them

But he’s not going to stop eating them 

Especially when he finds your attention drifting from him as you crave more socialization 

“As far as I’m concerned all we need is each other. Now do I have to eat this entire village or will you go back to our boat?”

[tamby-teeze]

Okay, so I know a solid 40% of the new Fantasy High was about Tracker "There's still deep attraction here" O'Shaughnessy, but HERE ME OUT

Gertie Bladeshield is the perfect woman for Kristen Applebees.

Cause, like, look, there was a lot of talk in episode 11 about impulsivity and chaos as an aspect of Kristen's character, mainly in how it's mirrored in Princess "Kristen if she had money" Naradriel, but it's also been a general focus this season, especially in how she often uses it to guard her emotions. Think back to "That's what you think", an incredible improv moment, but if you look at the big picture, Kristen's estranged parents make an incredibly inflammatory statement about her religion right after actively bullying her little brother, and instead of honoring any of the actual negative emotions she's being filled with in that moment, she pirouettes away. It's brought up in the adventuring party after this exact episode how Kristen is a cleric, a high-wisdom class that is naturally insightful, but uses these silly deflections to hold other people back from being insightful into her (hence Mac & Donna's lifetime insight disadvantage)

This isn't just limited to small moments, too. To take a broader look at the season so far, Kristen's chaotic, shrimp-jumping, wrangler-wearing, salsa-dipping, middle-school-campaigning, steel-workers-union-supporting bid for class president is often shown explicitly as a distraction from her existentially important job as the only cleric of Cassandra. Even when trying to earnestly apologize to Cassandra and prove to them that she's gonna prioritize her over class presidency, the only way she can articulate it is "You're the meat, mama." Her emotions are always guarded by some amount of chaos and impulsivity.

Now, how does that relate to Gertie "I've had a crush on you for a really long time" Bladeshield?

In both of the two scenes we've gotten of The Best D20 NPC (/j (but I do really like her)), Gertie has shown a pretty similar propensity for making bold, chaotic decisions in the heat of the moment. However, in my observation, these decisions do NOT come from a place of emotional suppression. Quite the opposite, actually.

Think back to her Grand Entrance into the narrative. Gertie, being one of the last people awake at Fabian's party, gifts her longtime-crush a jar of honey, something that connects directly to her passion/special-interest of beekeeping, in a homemade container designed as a pun on Kristen's last name. (in hindsight, the crush was very obvious) Then, in the middle of her infodumping to her about honey, Kristen's rich friend makes an incredibly dismissive remark about her good-natured gift. This obviously pisses her off, but unlike Kristen "That's what you think" Applebees, Gertie "I don't give a shit who's kid you are" Bladeshield lets herself feel those emotions very loudly, immediately starts a duel with possibly one of the most accomplished sword-fighters in the history of Aguefort, and declares him a life-long nemesis. She acts very brashly and impulsively, but in a way that doesn't hide her emotions, instead expressing them.

(I know there's a lot of talk about outbursts of anger being tied to Ankarna, but not only does the scene not really seem like foreshadowing to me, it's more interesting to see it through the lens of being Gertie's actual actions)

This trend continues with the 12th most noteworthy thing to have happened in episode 11 (which incredibly high acclaim), where after being explicitly asked to talk about bees by her crush, and being placed inches away from her face, kisses her on the lips. Now, excusing the albeit upsetting lack of consent, it once again shows Gertie acting very impulsively in a way that exposes her feelings to the people she likes. With these two instances of characterization being literally the only two scenes we get with her, it poses her as a very interesting parallel to Kristen, someone who shares in her willingness to make impulsive decisions, but differs wildly from her in the way she uses them to react to strong emotions.

However, does this really make Gertie the Autism to her ADHD?

(idk if Gertie really shows autistic traits, I just wanted to say that) Well, part of what Tracker a good companion for Kristen was that, as a fellow cleric, she naturally had very high wisdom, meaning she had enough insight to look past the layers of shrimp and salsa and engage with her on a deep level. However, clerics aren't the only class that cast spells with wisdom, so do rangers, including swarm-keeper rangers, which is a subclass that both has a good few abilities focused on spell-casting and was confirmed to be Gertie's subclass in an adventuring party. While her highest stat still could be dex (which, come to think of it, is a hilarious contrast to Kristen), there's no doubt that Gertie has a higher chance than most at being able to look past Kristen's barriers and see the complex hive of sweet, buzzing emotions underneath.

Hell, maybe that's where Gertie's crush comes from in the first place. Maybe, seeing this popular, proudly sapphic cleric be incredibly playful and chaotic on school grounds, she not only saw a bit of herself, but a little more. Perhaps, the type of mind that dedicates itself to allowing small, harmless critters to prosper even when no-one cares to join her club, is also the type of mind able to recognize when someone isn't allowing their truest emotions to prosper, making her wonder if they might have something to gain from sharing some of that chaos, using it not to hide, but to be free.

Or maybe it's just cause her last name has "bees" in it, idk.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

I literally grew up watching DBZ on Toonami reruns as a kid.. and it’s got me thinking…..

The Destined One (if you fight you know who to get the True Ending) receives Sun Wukong’s memories, but is clearly still his Own Self.. he gets to keep his individuality but now he has the knowledge and wisdom of Daddy OG Wukong’s previous experiences…

But what if….. it worked like a Namekian absorption fusion? Like with Piccolo and Nail?

like The Destined One literally Has OG Wukong chattering away in his head like a little subconscious Jiminy cricket.. but with more quips Less guidance and WAY more Shit talking. 

((Oh God, this thing is so breaking funny?! Like WHAAAAAA?Okay, okay, let me spice it up a little. Beware, slighty suggestive at some point))

After the Memories of Sun Wukong were bestowed on him, he became the new Sage (to the dismay of the Celestial Court). Everything seemed pretty fine with Yuán Fèn. He was strong; everybody accepted him as the new Monkey King, and his wish was to live happily ever after with you. 

At first, it was just a small thing—a small voice that he heard from time to time. Just like when you think that someone is calling you and then nothing! He blamed the successful events; he not even needed to let you worry about!

While he was stirring his own tea, sitting under the tree at your side, he heard it again.

"Young one!"

He stiffened his neck, looking around, but he came back to his tea. No one was calling him; it was the fifth time that day. How strange...

Then, things started to get REALLY strange. He started to hear full sentences, or after he had responded to them, he even received another remark!

"I can't believe you defeated my stone self with that stance."

"I can't believe that I'm turning into some kind of demented monkey with the old save powers."

"I HEARD THAT!!"

He suddenly loosed his own balance and started you and other young monkeys.

He thought he could handle it; he could handle a god as Erlang; he could handle this too!

He couldn't be more wrong. 

"You look awfully tried. Are you sure you're sleeping well?"

He just nodded, just hoping that the Great Sage could spare him some sleep in the afternoon from his continuous blabbering. 

At the end, he finally confessed everything to you. It was noble to know that he didn't want to obligate you to handle this thing with him, but instead you simply accepted it.

After all, you were soon to be King and Queen; you wanted to share his burden!

"Sooo...what does he say? About me, I mean..."

Yuán Fèn stayed silent, expecting something from the voice in his head.

"Umm...nice hips! She's going to bear a lot of kids, young one!"

"He said you're okay."

Things started to get strange when Yuán Fèn started to actually see him.

He almost had a heart attack the day that he saw him, and oh my, if he wished to get rid of him. 

You believed that it wasn't such a big deal; Wukong must have been a rational creature to leave your privacy alone! ....Wrong.

The sound of your sigh and panting emitted in your small abode. The only source of light is a small candel, near the end of it. 

His hands held your hips, while your lips kept on caressing his cheeks, leaving kisses and small bites. He tried to restrain a laugh, but the rumble in his chest took it away.

"Did you like it?"

He mewled, his tail moving restless around.

"I don't know him, but do I enjoy the view!"

Yuán Fèn suddenly screamed, making you fall from his hips, causing you to hit your head in the side of the bed, exposing in that motion your chest to the ceiling and to an invisible monkey that only the young one could see.

"W-WHAT THE -"

"DO YOU MIND?!"

"Uh, uh, uh, you should mind that boner in your thoughts! I think she would love to take care of that!"

And, while your lover tried to protect you from a pair of eyes that wasn't even there, you started to feel your desire and passion slowly fade away.

Things didn't get better, and now frustration started to get attached to you, like some kind of parasite. You were fed up, he was fed up, and Wukong... he couldn't find the situation more amusing.

"Am I in front of him?"

"Yes?"

"What does he do?"

"He's just...staring, just staring."

You clear your throat, while, only for Yuán Fèn, the old sage gave another bite to the peach, looking at the small human that was acting all big in front of him. You took enough control, and finally.

"Sun Wukong... I need to fuck, like for real. Leave us alone for... I don't know, 48 hours."

In his head, the poor monkey felt the great sage equal to Heaven laugh like never before.

@sleepingdramaqueen

@sun-jglim

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@everlastingmoonlightsworld

@biankanoir

@cromboloni

@miraclecherryblossomsblog

@masksandfeathers

@certifiedsimpinggalore

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@dressycobra7

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@szynkaaa

@sleepydang

[mintsuwu]

MORE SMILING CRITTERS FAMILY HEADCANONS WAHOO!! I do apologize in advance as this post will be shorter BUT THERE ARE MORE PICTURES!!!

Bubba Bubbaphant

Bubba Bubbaphant comes from a family deeply rooted in love, passion, and a sense of responsibility towards others. His mother was a botanist, brimming with a profound affection for plants, while his father embarked on adventurous explorations as a researcher. Despite their differing pursuits, they formed a tight-knit family unit where love and care flourished.

Sadly, his mother's life was cut short by a debilitating disease that drained her vitality, leaving an indelible mark on Bubba's heart. Witnessing her struggle ignited in him a fervent desire to become a doctor in the future, driven by the aspiration to alleviate suffering and potentially save lives, just as he had hoped to do for his mother.

But even after the profound loss, the relationship with his father remained strong, as the latter balances his adventurous spirit with unwavering dedication to his family. Despite the demands of his work, he cherishes every moment spent with Bubba, recognizing the importance of being present in his son's life. He carves out moments to spend quality time with him, sharing experiences and imparting valuable knowledge gained from his explorations as the young one shares information about the adventures he has with his friends

Mr. Bubbaphant embodies the essence of a true gentleman, extending kindness and assistance to those in need without hesitation. His demeanor and wisdom reflected the refinement and kindness instilled in his son, earning him a reputation as an absolute gentleman.

Their familial circle extends to Kickin'Chicken´s family, as he is friends with his mother, Clucketta, forging a close friendship between families. Recognizing the demands of parenthood, Mr. Bubbaphant would occasionally assist Clucketta by taking on babysitting duties, providing her with much-needed respite while her husband Rockin´ Rooster is away on his own endeavors.

Through their shared experiences and mutual respect, Bubba learns the value of compassion, friendship, and the importance of standing by those they care about.

BONUS: Kickin´ was the only one of the Smiling Critters who got to know Bubba´s mother before she passed away. And after her loss he made sure to be there to support his friend all the way just like the young elephant had done for him in the past.

Kickin'Chicken (Part ||)

Rockin'Rooster is a renowned singer in the Smiling Critters universe and the father of Kickin' Chicken. Despite his fame, Rockin' spends little time with his family, prioritizing his career over them.

Kickin' idolizes his father, despite his older sister Pecky harboring resentment towards him for his selfishness. Though Rockin' favors Pecky, hoping she'll continue his musical legacy, but she rejects his expectations. Instead, she enjoys music with her friends for fun as she even plays in a band with them, but she doesn't seek for fame or fortune. Rockin' later shifts his attention to Kickin', who adores his father but longs for more family connection. The young boy feels overwhelmed by his many younger siblings, as his father's absence is often filled with new additions to the family. But despite this, Kickin' loves his family deeply.

Clucketta, Kickin's mother, once shared Rockin's passion for music, but she now focuses on supporting her family. She sacrificed her own career as a dancer before moving to Jolly Valley (I still have to think of a name for the town though) in order to live a happy and peaceful life... Despite the family's imperfections. And though she no longer wears her Merry Charm, when she does, she keeps her pendant hidden as it makes her feel nostalgic of the times where she could pursue her passion for dancing.

BONUS: Adult Kickin' design! I like to imagine that he becomes some sort of dancing teacher in the future.

[ryssabrin]

i honestly feel like the mythal-solas-lavellan thing is not even that complex or hard to figure out and yet i'm still seeing so many solasmancers completely misunderstanding it and hating it as a result of misinterpreting it?

like no. lavellan is not mythal 2.0. i do think there are possibly some aspects about lavellan that drew solas to her because they might remind him of the parts of mythal he admired sure. but then there's a very obvious and intentional contrast! where mythal twisted solas and "used his wisdom as a weapon" so much he literally became pride, lavellan asks his advice, respects his opinions and lets him become more like the wisdom he originally was. mythal left him to go become a god with the rest of the evanuris while lavellan rejects the mantle of chosen one.

and it also really puts in to perspective his extreme reactions to the inquisitor drinking from the well and what happens to the wisdom spirit. he's horrified lavellan is bound to mythal. he's outraged at wisdom being corrupted against its will. those are things mythal did to him. that he let her do because he loved her. those are not things lavellan would do and the moment when he truly comes to respect the inquisitor for their wisdom and judgement is if they agree to help the spirit. it's also when he can't hold himself back from wanting to get closer to lavellan anymore. she shows herself to be the opposite of mythal in a way that is so meaningful to him.

i also don't see how solas is "settling" for lavellan in the redemption ending. whatever his feelings were for mythal, they're so twisted up in all the ways she hurt him too. i think it's interesting there are codex entries that call solas "mythal's lapdog" and her second in command. it makes me wonder if there was ever a time when their dynamic was really equal. when she appears before him he immediately bows his head and won't look her in the eye. he becomes disturbingly submissive. i don't see how anyone can look at that body language and see a man wanting to get back with his ex.

he says in his letter what he really wanted was to give up all of his plans and just be with lavellan as solas. but he doesn't let himself have that because of what he feels he still owes to mythal. he regrets what he let mythal turn him into, he regrets not being able to reconcile with her before her death despite that, and he convinces himself that any pain he causes or damage he does in the aftermath is in her honor. giving it all up for lavellan would be betraying not only mythal but literally the entire elvhen empire who suffered when he created the veil as retribution over the evanuris murdering her.

so when mythal finally gives him closure and tells him he doesn't have to carry that burden anymore, that's when he's finally free to choose lavellan, the person he really wants to be with. the person who allows him to return to his true purpose and makes him better. he's not settling he's moving on.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Nine — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Roza’s arrival in Windhaven brings some home truths crashing down on Reader. She just needs a hug, someone to talk to, but it all goes very, very wrong…

Word Count: 3k.

Warnings: None.

Chaos evades logic.

There is no rationality to be found here. No sense to be made of the ample feelings that begin to chew you up and spit you out.

All you know, as you lace your breeches up and correct yourself, is that you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

“Are you decent?” Roza calls, her back still to you.

You tie the last lace. Clear your throat. “All good.”

The closest person you’ve ever had to a mother figure turns on the spot. She’s absolutely beautiful — fucking glowing — her swollen belly visible through her thick coat, and her eyes alight with a quality you’ve never seen before.

Rhysand really is the mirror image of her.

“I actually cannot believe I just witnessed that.” She grouses. “And just when I thought the morning sickness had finally come to an end, too. My poor, poor eyes.”

Cassian makes a noise. “Roz, that’s a bit dramatic—”

“You be quiet.” She points a finger at him. “Your mouth has done quite enough tonight, thank you very much.”

The two of them stare at each other — Cassian wanting to be a little shit and push his luck, and Roza wanting to…

Well, to gouge her eyes out with a rusty spoon, probably.

But then Cassian cracks a grin, and he’s bounding over to the female like an excitable pup. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“Watch your language.” Roza scorns, but she happily accepts the hug that Cass yanks her into. “Gods, you’ve grown even more.”

You…you are rooted to the spot. Unable to move.

You want to go over there, too. To embrace her. But…but just seeing Roza makes the previous couple of months come hammering down on you in an unwelcome downpour of unwanted realisations.

You think: Roza caught me fooling around with Cassian.

And then you think: Fucking hell, I fooled around with Cassian again.

And then you’re wondering how — how you’ve let the recent events of your life veer down such a beaten, broken path.

It’s like Roza’s appearance brings a clarity that has been very much absent as of late. She’s always been a figure of reason and wisdom, always stopped you from spiralling.

And now she’s here, you’re looking at Cassian — your damn friend — and wondering just how much damage you might have caused.

He’s mid-conversation with Roza when he seems to notice you staring at him. Roza notices, too.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She says.

You open your mouth, unsure how you intend to respond. All that slips out is a rasped, “I’m just…so glad you’re here.”

Cassian snorts. “Tell that to your face.”

You can’t bring yourself to laugh at the jibe. And it would seem that Roza can’t, either. She’s studying you in that assessing way you’ve seen her wear a thousand times before — the one where the motherly instinct kicks in, and she’s sensing something is wrong. It seems to be a subconscious act, the way she slides her hand over her bump.

“So what are you doing back here, anyway?” Cassian asks her, slinging an arm round her shoulders. “I thought the High Lord wanted you to stay in Velaris for the pregnancy.”

“He does.” Roza says. “But then I found out Y/N had somehow ended up homeless and that he hadn’t bothered to help, so he and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.” She eyes you again. “I’ve come to move you properly into the cottage — including retrieving your belongings from your father’s house. I will not have you freezing your ass off in this dump.”

Gods, you love her.

She’s so fierce, so passionate. This is a female who housed three lost, rowdy children under her roof and offered them the same amount of love as she felt for her biological son. This is a female who does what she believes is right and damns the consequences. This is a female who doesn’t hesitate — not for one second — to help somebody in need.

She’s the exact kind of female you want yourself to be. And she’s the only person you wish to see in that moment.

“Perfect.” Cassian chirps brightly. “I’ll help. Let’s go fetch Y/N’s stuff from the bastard’s house right now.”

He takes a step towards the door, but Roza is laying a hand on his arm. She doesn’t look away from you once. “Cassian, my darling, I love you endlessly. And so, I say this with the greatest of adoration — fuck off to the mead hall, or something, and leave Y/N and I to have some girl time alone.”

“What?” He squawks in outrage. “But you just got here.”

“And I promise you we’ll catch up properly later. But right now, Y/N and I need some time alone.”

“But—”

“Do you want to stay and discuss the ins and outs of childbirth?”

Instantly, he falters. The change of tune would be comical if you were actually capable of feeling anything but despair in that moment.

“You know what?” He cracks a grin. “The mead hall sounds great right about now.”

Roza chuckles. “I thought it might. I’m taking Y/N back to the cottage. I’ll come and fetch you when we’re done. And if you see Az or Rhys, be sure to tell them to stay away, too.”

Oh.

This is going to be a serious talk.

You can’t remember the last time Roza was so insistent about it just being the two of you.

Probably when you got your first ever cycle, and she held and soothed and bathed you through it.

Will she still be so tender when she hears of the full scope of the mess you’ve created for yourself? You’re not sure you’d deserve it.

“Go easy, Cass.” Roza warns. “Don’t get into any fights.”

“Pff. As if I would.” Your friend lands a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful, Roz.” He says, and then he’s bustling out of the door without a care in the world.

You stare after him. Wish you could be that carefree. It feels…it feels impossible.

Gods, you just want to fucking cry.

Roza can see that. She holds a hand out.

“Come, my little dove.” She says. “Let’s get you home.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It kind of feels like walking into the cottage for the very first time, all over again.

You remember that night like it happened only yesterday. Remember how the cold had felt as you’d followed Azriel through the snow. The noises of bickering coming  from behind the door.

Even at eleven, Az had always seemed so much taller than you. You’d noticed that as he’d strode ahead and led you inside.

Roza had been standing in the kitchen, and she’d turned to you with a curious expression. “Oh.” She’d chirped, with more warmth than you’d ever heard from your own kin. “What have we here, then?”

You, Azriel had explained to her, had been set upon by a group of males far older than you. Az had defended you, and then he’d invited you to share his dinner.

Roza had taken one look at the dirt packed beneath your fingernails and told you to thoroughly wash your hands before taking a seat. You’d done just that.

And it was at that very table that Rhysand had introduced himself.

“I’m Rhysand. My father is the High Lord.”

Roza had scolded him for showing off.

And it was after that that Cassian had eyed you with a wild, feral look and simply said, “I bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle. I beat everyone.”

“Not at my dinner table, you don’t.” Roza had put a stop to that immediately. And then she’d placed a steaming pie in the centre of the table, and High Lords and arm wrestles were all but forgotten, and Azriel had been quiet and shy at your side, but dutifully offering you different foods before he took any for himself—

Standing at the threshold of the cottage, now…it’s like watching that entire scene play out before you. The ghosts of your younger, wayward selves feast greedily on a wholesome meal that lets you forget your harrowing experiences for a little while.

How things have changed.

You finally step in. Kick the door shut behind you. The smells and warmth of your sanctuary envelop you, and you know — you fucking know that you won’t be able to keep a lid on your tears for long.

“Don’t know how many times I’ve told those idiots to put the fire out before they leave the house.” Roza mutters, but she goes striding straight towards that burning fire and welcomes its warmth. “Although, I must admit, I’m a little impressed. I expected this place to be far messier in my absence than it is. Don’t tell me they’ve actually been cleaning—”

“Roza.” You cut in, your voice shaky, desperate. “About what you saw—”

She turns back to you. Says nothing as concerned, violet eyes sweep the length of your body. She’s letting you speak, but you don’t know what the fuck to say.

You open and close your mouth as though the act will make some sense of…any of this.

It doesn’t.

“I didn’t realise you and Cassian were…” Roza clears her throat. Pauses. “I just…what of Azriel, Y/N?”

You blink at her.

Roza’s very good at knowing things she hasn’t been told, but for her to know about you and Az when she’s been in Velaris this whole time, and when, as far as you’re aware, these things have been strictly kept between you and Azriel only—

“What?” You breathe.

“Perhaps I’m wrong, I don’t know.” She frowns. “But I always suspected that you and Az would be…something more. Your connection with him has always run a little deeper than with anyone else. That’s why I was so shocked when I found you…and Cass…”

Is she wrong?

No.

And fucking damn you for taking all these years to see it. Fucking damn you for only realising you wanted Azriel as more than just your friend when somebody else began to recognise his brilliance.

Fucking damn you for all of this, and damn Azriel, too, and damn everyone.

It all comes showering down on you in an instant, harsh and unwelcome.

You love Azriel. Not just in the way you love Rhysand and Cassian. You’re in love with his soul, his spirit. Who he is will always be tethered to who you are, even though he isn’t yours to cling onto. It’s been that way since you were old enough to harbour such feelings, and you’ve been burying it all these years, burying it under bad choices and regrettable actions, because all of that seemed easier to face, than…this. The fact that you were never able to control your heart, stop it from feeling such things, and now you feel them so intensely that it hurts.

Had your deal with Az ever really been about helping him, or had it been a selfish ruse under which you could have some small experience to remember him by when he inevitably gave his heart to somebody else?

Because you are just Y/N. You’ve always just been Y/N.

You are not Kaeda — Kaeda with the wings, and the strength, and the excellence.

Just Y/N. Just Y/N—

“Speak to me, my love.” Roza steps closer. “I’m worried about you.”

Your eyes blur with tears. Your legs buckle, and you’re bracing one hand on the back of the couch while the other flies up to cup over your mouth.

“Oh, gods, what have I done?” Your voice breaks.

“Speak to me.” Roza says again.

“This is all such a mess.”

“What is, Y/N?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know what—what to do!”

“You need to breathe.” She responds firmly. “Deep breaths. Now.”

You try. Gods, you try. But your chest is constricting, and the air won’t reach your lungs, and all you can hear on a constant loop inside your head is one, bellowing sentence.

Everything is irreversibly changed.

Roza closes the gap between you and cups your face. The touch is soft, but firm. She forces you to look at her, and her face is blurred by your tears, but you know she’s looking at you how she’s always looked at you — with love.

“Tell me what’s going on, and I can help you through it.” She pleads.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You sob back.

She yanks you close, arms wrapping around you. She’s held you like this through so, so much. This is no different.

But it feels different, in that it feels worse. Not only is it possible that your actions could change your relationships with both Cassian and Azriel, but also that they could change their relationship with each other, too — change the strong, steadfast dynamic between your three closest friends.

You tremble, clinging to Roza like you may just collapse. Your heartbeat gallops in your ears like rhythmic footfalls.

“Y/N—”

“It all turned into a total mess.” You choke out. “I was feeling things — I am feeling things — and then Azriel had Kaeda and I was jealous and stupid and I — I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have slept with Cassian.”

“You did what?”

Those three, outraged words are not spoken in Roza’s voice. The sudden interjection of Azriel’s is enough for your sobs to catch in your throat.

Every single inch of your body goes cold as you step back to look at him. Blink at him. Roza fights to keep hold of you.

Normally, he would have hurried over to embrace her. But he stays rooted to the last step of the staircase. He’s staring at you. Only you.

You’ve never seen him look so pale.

“Az.” Roza sighs softly. “We didn’t realise you were home.”

He doesn’t look away from you — not once — as he asks, “What did you just say?”

Roza inches towards him. “I think we all need to sit down and talk about this—”

“You fucked Cassian?”

Tears spill over, roll down your cheeks. Your voice doesn’t want to show itself as you croak out, “Az, I can explain.”

“You fucked Cassian?” He’s repeating it like…like he needs to. Like it won’t get into his head any other way. “You had sex with him?”

“Yes, but—”

“Around the time you and I were doing similar things?”

Roza’s head whips round to you in surprise. You’d failed to mention that bit. After a moment, she rights herself once more. “Azriel, you should let her speak.”

“I can’t fucking believe you.” Letting you speak is the last thing on his mind as he steps down, storming past the two of you. You reach out for him, but he’s jerking away, heading for the door.

“Azriel, please.” Your voice cracks. “Let me explain.”

“Explain that you fucked Cass? At the same time that I was sharing such…such huge things with you—”

“At the same time you were sharing them with Kaeda!”

He falls still, hand faltering on the doorknob, shoulders hunched.

And then he glances over his shoulder at you with an expression so bleak, you’d do anything, make a bargain with anyone, to wipe it from his face.

“Except that I’ve never touched Kaeda like that.” He says. “Not once. I couldn’t.”

Before you’re capable of summoning an answer, he’s yanking the door open and thundering out into the snow.

Shock pulses through you, ice-cold and harrowing. You blink, and blink and blink and blink, and you think Roza might be saying your name, but you can only choke out another sob that grates against your throat, and then your legs are moving forward, stumbling out of the door.

“Az, wait!” You cry, but he’s already striding far into the distance. “Please!”

You try to move, but it’s like the snow is binding your ankles, grounding you firmly to the spot. You sob. Try to move. Fall. Get up. It’s cold and wet. You’re hurting. Everything’s hurting.

And somebody’s yelling — yelling at you.

“Hey!” You know the voice. It’s a voice you don’t like. But you can’t put a face to it until its owner is stopping in front of you, sneering at you. Lord Devlon. “What did I tell you about staying away from these parts, girl?”

You’re incapable of answering him. You’re not even looking at him. You just stare and stare in the direction that Az disappeared in, fat, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m talking to you.” Devlon grabs your chin between his fingers, hard. “Insolent female—”

“Remove your hand from her face at once.”

He blinks at the sight of Roza stepping out of the cottage. Clearly, he had no clue she’d returned. And even he won’t speak out against the High Lord’s pregnant mate.

He drops his hand immediately.

Roza steps up to your side and narrows her gorgeous eyes at him. Her hand sits on her swollen belly. “Look at you, Lord Devlon — following orders like a good dog. Now, go on. Fuck off.”

There’s a slight twitch of a muscle as he clenches his jaw. He hates every second of it, but he obediently turns away from you.

“Oh — Lord Devlon?” Roza calls after him.

He stops. Turns. “Yes, lady?”

“I decide who can and cannot live in my house.” She stares him down. “That call is mine and mine alone. And if I hear of you giving Y/N any more trouble? I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

She turns her back to him with utter dismissal. If you weren’t so devastated, you might laugh at his stunned expression.

But Roza sees the pain in your eyes, and she pulls you into her arms.

“Come, my love.” She murmurs  softly. “Let’s get you inside.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

[gamblersdoll]

Bakugou, reader's biggest rival, who believed that their story would be a classic enemies to lovers, discovers that she has slept with Deku...And Kirishima...And Todoroki...Also Kaminari...Oh, with Monoma and Shinso too.

Several times with everyone...Sometimes all at the same time.

He hates himself for falling in love with a whore, but mostly for not being part of it.

he hates you so fucking much.

at least, thats what he tells himself. daily, with that.

he hates the way that you equate to him, but have such a nasty ass fucking attitude. he hates the fact that each mission you both do, you always have an idea.

he hates the way you talk, you talk like you know everything. (you do.) he hates how you always have a strategy. (you do.) he hates the sound of your voice, he hates how you talk back to him, the fucking next best thing.

he hates the way that you always flaunt your status, how you flaunt your strength and your carefree attitude. he hates you, hates the fact that you even knocked him down because he had the wrong tone with you.

he hates how you make him feel, though. he hates how you smell like something of a bakery. he hates how your hair is always so nice and how the fuck it stays that way. he hates when you don’t address him at all, because hes right fucking there. he hates when you get attention from people that aint him.

he hates it.

but oh, how he loves when you look towards him, how you sometimes offer wisdom when he fucks up in a mission or assignment. he loves when you dont have that attitude and can hold a conversation.

he loves how your hair looked last week, you should do it more often. he loves when you have something simple on. he loves when you’re at least laughing, seeing your letting all your fears go.

he feels as if you both got off on the wrong foot. at least both of you getting along for a couple of months showed him that. he loves where both of you are in your friendship.

“hey, shit–head.” he would chime in from time to time, throwing a stack of papers on your desk and sitting down. “im not understandin’ this shit.” but he does, he just needs a reason to see you, smell you, be with you.

“you look better today.” he grumbles when you sit next to him. (you look better day in and day out, his heart aching in jealousy and awe.)

yet, you had been some common whore, he thought. his rage filled him, hearing about whom you slept with. monoma, who he didnt under-fucking-stand. kirishima, his best fucking friend too? denki, that says alot, two whores fucking each other. todoroki, that fucking emo dude? shinso, what the fuck do you even see in that?

and deku, his childhood friend.

he felt all of his hate for you come back, his eyes glaring when you step in the room. because not only did you sleep with them, you slept with all of them at the same time like some fucking slut.

he hated you, he hated your existence. he thought he could trust you, how could you be like that? what the fuck was wrong with you?

he hated your breathing, he hated your body and eyes.

he hated the fact that not one fucking time they even told him about you, and the fact they waited to the last fucking second to tell him. he grew hateful to them as well, shutting himself off from everyone.

he hates the fact that not once of all his efforts, he was even able to see your car, your home, your casual wear. he couldnt even see you with no makeup.

he hates the fact that his dick wasnt inside you, yet six other boys were familiar with you. he deserved all of you, he put up with your shit the most.

he hates the fact that he wasnt even involved. he hates the fact he fell in love with a slut that went through so much dick he couldnt be apart.

he hates you, he hates what you did to him.

[ginxyy]

Years in the Making

(A bit of a long one. Smut with a plot. New to smut so let me know if you like it)

You remember that night as if it were painted in vivid strokes across a canvas, every detail burned into your memory. The laughter, the music, the fleeting touches of a friendship that had danced dangerously close to something more. Dinner with Mingyu and the rest of Seventeen felt electric, a swirl of familiarity and something that lingered just beneath the surface. Bottles of laughter were passed around like shared secrets, and you could feel the warmth of the candles flickering on the table, casting shadows of admiration and longing.

You sat opposite Mingyu, your eyes occasionally meeting his, where unspoken words swirled like whispers in the air. You had danced around this connection for years always caring, always loving each other deeper than the simple words could express, yet choosing to date others, stepping into relationships that never quite felt right. It was as if you both held the pieces of a puzzle and were too stubborn to fit them together.

As the night went on, encouragement was all around you. You exchanged playful banter with Seungcheol, who sat beside you, his presence warm and inviting. With a confident grin, he leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. In a moment of defiance, perhaps a moment to provoke the invisible boundaries, you decided to flirt just a little more than usual. “You know, Seungcheol,” you said, your voice teasing, “I’ve always thought your smile could light up the entire room. You should definitely use it more often.”

The laughter chimed louder, Mingyu’s gaze narrowing just slightly, insecurity threading its way through him. You caught his eye, hoping to read the thoughts behind those intense dark orbs, but he quickly looked away. There was a stigma here the ritualistic dance of disguising affection with indifference. The atmosphere grew thick with tension what was supposed to be playful, innocent fun had turned into a game neither of you had wanted to play.

Mingyu, unable to tolerate the lighthearted exchange any longer, finally slid his chair back and stood abruptly. You glanced up in shock, your heart racing as he walked away, muttering heatedly under his breath. You hadn’t meant to hurt him, to rock the boat that had remained steady despite all the waves crashing against your relationship. But you sensed disturbance in the air as he trudged toward Vernon, his best friend, seeking solace in his wisdom.

“Why does she always do this?” Mingyu complained, the frustration palpable in his voice. “Why does she pick someone who isn’t me?”

Vernon shrugged, only half-listening, the warmth in his eyes betraying a knowing smile. “Maybe you should just confess to her, Mingyu. But then again, it’s easy to be brave with advice, isn’t it?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the exchange as you slipped away, enticed by the prospect of snacks in the kitchen. Each step felt heavy with a mix of guilt and exhaustion. But time passed, and you lost yourself in the charm of the room, the glimmering lights, the laughter floating around you. Seungcheol unhurriedly followed, stepping into the kitchen just as you reached for a bag of chips.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk, the sort that could hug you in warmth even when he was just a few feet away. You laughed, turning to face him, feeling a mischievous spark ignite within. Inexplicably drawn to the moment, you found yourself flirting deeper, tilting your head up, saying something cheeky, something that would have made Mingyu’s heart race.

And then, as if scripted from a movie, you leaned in Seungcheol’s lips met yours in swift collision. The heat and intensity enveloped you like a fever. It was a rush, a whirlwind of rebellious energy, one you’d yearned for in some capacity, even if it was wrong. But amidst that thrill, the sound of the kitchen door swung open with a familiar creak, a sound that held an icy intensity.

Mingyu's figure stood in the doorway, shadows of anguish dancing across his features, disbelief etched in every line of his face. Regret surged through you as you pulled away from Seungcheol, the spark extinguished in an instant when you met Mingyu's heartbroken eyes. He took a step back, his breaths shallow and pained, before turning and exiting into the night, leaving you with only the ghost of the stolen moment lingering in the air.

The distant echo of what had transpired haunted you for weeks afterward. Days melted into one another filled with an undeniable emptiness. Text messages were silenced, and phone calls went unanswered. The weight of what you had witnessed and the absence of Mingyu dissolved your spirit.

Then one night, as moonlight bathed your room in ethereal glow, a sound broke the silence a quiet knocking at your door. Your heart raced as you opened it, revealing Mingyu, his eyes glistening with vulnerability and despair. He fell to his knees, the overwhelming sorrow spilling out as he hugged your legs, like a child longing for a sense of safety.

“I love you,” he blurted, voice trembling as if the confession itself held the burden of years. “I will always love you. Just pick me. Please.” The intensity in his gaze filled with an urgency that stripped you of everything but truth.

Hearing those words brought a torrent of emotions rushing through you, tears swelling in your eyes as you sank down to him. You held his face in your hands, fingers trembling as you caressed his cheeks. “Mingyu, I have always loved you,” you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. The weight found its release in that moment, and tears fell freely as you pulled him closer. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

Mingyu’s breath hitched as your words sank into him, the tremor of your confession igniting something raw and uncontainable within his soul. His hands, trembling but sure, cupped your face with a tender ferocity, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Say it again,” he whispered, voice cracking with vulnerability as his forehead pressed against yours. “Please… I need to hear it again.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the pain and longing of years swirling within them, and your heart broke for how long you both had suffered in silence. “I’ve always loved you, Mingyu. It’s you. It’s always been you. And it always will be.”

The air between you shifted, electric and heady, as his lips crashed onto yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His kiss was fire and desperation, years of restraint finally breaking free. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Mingyu groaned against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and stirring something primal.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he muttered between heated kisses, his voice filled with both anguish and relief. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, the wet press of his kisses sending shivers down your spine. Your breaths came fast and shallow, every touch setting your skin ablaze.

“Mingyu…” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer, and it only seemed to drive him further. His grip on you tightened, strong and unwavering as he hoisted you up effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he carried you toward your room as though the rest of the world had fallen away.

He pushed the door open with his foot, and the soft moonlight spilling through the window bathed the room in a silvery glow. Mingyu set you down gently on the bed, his dark eyes blazing with intensity as he hovered over you. “I love you,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion as his hands caressed your face, then slid down your arms. “I’ve always loved you. Even when it hurt, even when I thought I had no chance… it was always you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but they were tears of release, of joy. You reached up to him, pulling him down until your lips met once more, this time softer, sweeter, though no less passionate. The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you as his in a way that left no doubt of his devotion.

Mingyu’s hands roamed, exploring every curve of your body as if memorizing you for the first time. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and when his lips broke from yours, they trailed down your neck and collarbone, leaving a blazing path in their wake. His voice, low and gravelly, sent heat pooling in your core. “Tell me this is real,” he begged. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s real,” you assured him, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he leaned down, his weight a comforting presence against you. “It’s us. Finally. It’s us.”

The tension between you snapped, and there was no going back. Mingyu’s hands slid under your shirt, his touch igniting your skin as he peeled the fabric away, leaving you bare to him. He took a moment to simply look at you, his gaze reverent and filled with wonder. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking.

His lips were on you again, his kisses growing more fervent, more demanding. The heat between you was unbearable, and you arched into him, craving his touch, his love, his everything. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in a rush, and the feel of his warm skin against yours made you gasp.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, the sound spurring him on as his kisses became deeper, needier. His hands explored every inch of you, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he couldn’t get enough. He groaned your name, the sound guttural and raw, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll always pick you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with conviction. “Always, Mingyu. It’s only ever been you.”

That was all it took for him to lose whatever semblance of control he had left. Mingyu’s kisses grew more urgent, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between them. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice a litany of devotion as he claimed your lips once more. “I’ll prove it to you, every day, every second, for the rest of my life.”

And as the night unfolded, it was filled with whispered promises, searing kisses, and the overwhelming warmth of finally, finally being with the person you were always meant to be with.

Mingyu’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that spoke of years of restraint finally shattering, his hands exploring every curve of your body with a reverence that sent shivers racing across your skin. His touch was hot, possessive, but filled with an unspoken tenderness that melted you into him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, each word vibrating through your body. “How many nights I’ve dreamed about you, about us. You’re everything, and I’m done pretending.”

His mouth descended to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before his tongue soothed the spot, leaving you gasping. His large hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the evidence of his desire pressing into you, hard and unrelenting.

“Mingyu…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as his kisses traveled lower, down your collarbone, and further still, igniting a fire in their wake.

“I love the way you say my name,” he groaned, his lips pausing just above your heart. “Say it again. Let me hear it.”

“Mingyu,” you moaned, your back arching as his mouth found your skin once more, his teeth and tongue working in tandem to claim you, mark you, adore you. His hands were everywhere trailing up your sides, sliding down your thighs his touch firm yet impossibly gentle, as if he was savoring every moment.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Every inch of you. I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long. You have no idea what you do to me.”

He pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and blazing with desire. “Let me make you feel good,” he rasped, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Let me give you everything.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on you again, his kisses growing more heated, more desperate. His hands slid down to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking underneath as he began to tug them down. You lifted your hips instinctively, your breath hitching as the cool air met your heated skin.

Mingyu’s gaze dropped, his eyes drinking you in like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. “God, you’re stunning,” he breathed, his voice trembling with awe. “I’ve imagined this so many times, but nothing comes close to the real thing.”

He pressed a trail of kisses down your stomach, his lips lingering on every inch of exposed skin, his hands caressing your thighs with an intensity that left you trembling. When his mouth hovered just above where you needed him most, you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you, Mingyu. Please.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a wicked grin, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Just relax.”

And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sweeping over you with a precision that made your entire body jolt. A broken moan escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with a skill that left you breathless.

“So sweet,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled. “I could stay here forever. You taste like heaven, baby. All mine. You’re all mine.”

He alternated between slow, languid strokes and quick, focused flicks, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as your hips bucked against him. The combination of his tongue and the low, constant rumble of his voice was enough to drive you to the edge.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against you between strokes. “Falling apart for me. Just me. God, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me how it feels, baby. Tell me how much you need me.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. “I need you, Mingyu. I—oh my God—don’t stop.”

His fingers joined the fray, sliding into you with an ease that made your head spin. His touch was firm, deliberate, curling just right as his tongue continued its relentless assault. The combination was devastating, your body tightening as the pressure built higher and higher.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. “Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart. I want to hear every single sound you make. God, you’re so perfect.”

You shattered beneath him, a cry ripping from your throat as your body arched off the bed, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Mingyu didn’t stop, drawing out your release with steady, deliberate movements, his voice a constant stream of praise and adoration.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone filled with pride. “So beautiful. So perfect. I could watch you like this forever.”

As the waves of pleasure subsided, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left no doubt of his love, his devotion, his hunger.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered against your lips, his voice trembling. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

The night was far from over, and you both knew it. Years of longing, of frustration, of unspoken love had finally been unleashed, and there was no holding back now.

Mingyu hovered over you, his body pressed against yours, his skin warm and slick from the heat of the moment. His kisses grew hungrier, more demanding, as though he needed to consume every ounce of you, to erase the years of distance that had kept you apart. His lips trailed down your jaw and neck, his hands exploring your body like he was memorizing every curve, every soft gasp you made under his touch.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your skin, his voice low and rough, laced with possessive desire. His teeth grazed your collarbone, followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, breathless, your hands clutching his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “Always.”

“That’s right,” he muttered, his mouth moving to your ear, his voice dark and commanding. “Only mine. No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you, to hear you like this. Just me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, heat pooling low in your belly as his lips returned to yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with an intensity that left you gasping. One of his hands slid down your body, slipping between your thighs once more, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot with ease.

“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his lips brushing against yours as his fingers moved with purpose. “So perfect. I could make you come like this all night, baby. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me keep you here, falling apart for me over and over.”

“Mingyu,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, your body chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided. “Please…”

“Please what?” he teased, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you need, baby. I’ll give you anything. Everything.”

“You,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as his fingers worked you closer to the edge. “I need you, Mingyu. Please. I can’t I need you inside me.”

He groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours as he removed his hand, his fingers glistening with your slick. He brought them to his mouth, his dark eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slowly over his fingers. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I could live off you, baby. You drive me crazy.”

He shifted, lining himself up with you, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider beneath him. His gaze softened for a moment, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the intensity. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with love. “I need you to be sure, baby. I don’t think I could stop.”

“I’m sure,” you said, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I want you, Mingyu. I need you.”

That was all he needed. He pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he stretched you around him. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fullness that had you moaning his name, your nails raking down his back.

“Fuck, baby,” he gritted out, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he bottomed out inside you. “You’re so tight, so perfect. Made for me. Only me.”

He started moving, his pace slow and deliberate at first, his hips rolling in a way that had you seeing stars. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, leaving you gasping for air.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of sweetness and filth. “Take me, baby. Take all of me. You’re so good for me, so perfect. I’ll never get enough of you.”

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him with each thrust, his control slipping as he lost himself in you.

“I want you to come for me,” he groaned, his voice strained as he pushed you closer to the edge. “I want to feel you fall apart around me. Let me have it, baby. Let me feel how good I make you feel.”

You were helpless to resist him, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer as you shattered around him, your walls clenching tightly as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much. I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Make you mine in every way.”

His hand slid down to where your bodies were joined, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and circling it with precision. “Give me one more,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “One more, baby. I know you can. Let go for me.”

You cried out as he pushed you over the edge again, your body trembling as another orgasm crashed through you. The sensation of him moving inside you, the filthy, loving words spilling from his lips, was too much to bear.

Mingyu groaned loudly, his hips snapping against yours one final time as he came, his release filling you with warmth. He buried his face in your neck, his breaths ragged as he whispered, “That’s it, baby. Take it all. God, you’re perfect.”

He pulled back slightly, his hand coming to rest on your stomach as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I want this,” he said softly, his voice still hoarse from exertion. “I want us. A family. You carrying my baby, us building a life together. I want it all with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, tears pricking your eyes as you reached up to cup his face. “I want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I want everything with you, Mingyu.”

He smiled, his expression softening as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and tender. “Good,” he murmured against your lips. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

[base0h]

HOW DO YOU NOT EVEN KNOW?

he said something awful, something he should’ve never said or thought about saying. but he said it, and now the damage was done. and he didn’t even know what he’d done, leaving you alone to reflect on the damage (feat. inarizaki! thank you for requesting this anon :)) kori, your best friend was always a mediator, but even this time she knew that you were the victim, and he was the bad guy (I get confused whenever I start using too many y/f/n and stuff like that so I just stuck my oc in here instead ✌️)

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader, angst, this does not have a happy ending with comfort sorry, your dialogue is in white, kori’s dialogue is in purple, kori is an oc not a canon character (click here for more info abt her)

You knew Atsumu was popular, that wasn’t a surprise. He was good looking, a talented volleyball player, and he was charismatic. What was there not to like about him?

But still. Why did it still hurt and make you agitated whenever other students would fawn over him? You knew it was bound to happen, hell— you fawn over him too as your boyfriend.

If you had to hear one more deafening squeal of his name, you’d probably lose your mind.

“Miya-kun!!”

“Miya-senpai!”

The worst part was that he always stopped and made time for them. Even when he was with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it hurt everytime you saw him smiling at the fans and giving them his time and attention when he probably should be giving it to you, his actual s/o.

You voiced your worries and concerns to your friend who always listened and lended her ears to you.

“I probably shouldn’t be feeling like this.. I mean he loves me right? Not the fans.” You said softly, but your tone was uncertain, you honestly weren’t sure what you were saying was true or not, and that scared you even more.

“No I think it’s pretty valid to feel like that. It ain’t fair for him to do that in front of you especially if you’re on an actual date. He should be paying attention to you, not some random fangirls or fanboys.” Kori replied, scribbling away on her tablet as she sketched and drew as she was listening and talking. Kori always drew when listening, she had a way with multitasking.

You found it funny that Kori offered such sage wisdom and support despite the girl never having been in a relationship nor having a crush on anyone. “Kori how do you always know about relationship stuff when you’ve never even been in one before?”

Kori looked up from her tablet with a slightly hurt expression. “I really didn’t need that stray comment—?”

You giggled, snickering to yourself as you reassured your friend that you were just teasing and joking around. You knew Kori was one of the sweetest human beings on earth, and you trusted her to have your back when you needed her to.

“But seriously though, you should tell him what you’re feeling. He’s so dense that I don’t think bro would know unless you tell him directly.” Kori suggested, going back to drawing. She was right, Atsumu was quite oblivious, and probably thought nothing of what he was doing since he was so used to the attention.

So you decided to gather your courage to speak to the blonde twin about your concerns. You thought that it’d go ok, maybe he’d be a bit confused, but he would comply and maybe give you a hug or a couple kisses to reassure you.

“Huh? Whaddya talkin’ about babe?”

…

What did he mean, “whaddya talkin’ about”?

You thought you worded yourself quite clearly for him to understand, you knew he wasn’t stupid or anything— at least not THAT stupid.

“So yer worried about all the other people talkin’ to me? Babe don’t worry, it ain’t like I’m kissin’ ‘em or anything.”

You felt your heart twist. Did he just— not get it? Or did he not care? Did he care about you and everyone else the same? No. That can’t be right, you were catastrophizing things.

“No that’s not— I’m just— Atsumu wait. Please listen for a second—“ you tried grabbing his arm, but he immediately pulled it away.

“I gotta go to practice y/n, ok? Can it wait till after?”

he used your name instead of a nickname.

“It’ll take like five seconds for me to explain—“

“Just leave me be y/n! Yer insecurities can’t get in the way of my practicing, nationals are coming up and you’re tellin’ me yer worried about other students talkin’ to me? Yer just as annoying and as distracting as them at this point!”

“you’re just as annoying and as distracting as them”

That sentence echoed over and over again in your mind. He didn’t really mean that right? He was just stressed because of nationals? He’d certainly apologize right?

But all you heard were his quick receding footsteps that disappeared as he walked into the gym, closing the door behind him. You were frozen there for god knows how long. It felt like a few seconds, but to bystanders and other students walking by, you looked like you’d passed out standing up.

“Uh— y/n…? You good?” A familiar voice asked, tapping your shoulder lightly. You snapped out of your daze and looked to your side where your friend Kori was, looking at you with concern and slight worry in her sleepy golden amber eyes.

You hadn’t even realized tears had pricked your eyes, which earned a silent gasp from your friend. “Whoa what happened? Did you get hurt or something??” She asked worriedly, her eyes scanning your body for any injuries. Your breath trembled as you just slumped over into Kori’s shoulder, letting out a choked sob that you didn’t know you were holding in.

Kori’s eyes were wide with concern as she hesitantly pat your back, returning the hug. She didn’t say anything or press you to explain the situation yet, she just let you cry for as long as you needed, offering tissues and water to help you calm down a bit.

After you had managed to explain what happened, Kori sighed knowingly, as if she wasn’t surprised he’d say that. “He was never the nicest dude around y/n. I’m sorry he said that to you that’s wrong.” Her tone was empathetic and gentle, and she tried her best to avoid saying anything bad about the blonde. You knew him and her weren’t on the best of terms for some reason, reasons unknown even to Kori, Atsumu just didn’t like her for some reason.

Kori did her best to try and at least distract you. You went over to her house after school and she did whatever you felt like doing. Watching TV, studying, playing games, listening to music, honestly anything she’d do to help you at least a little. You couldn’t lie it did help to distract yourself, it felt good to not think about Atsumu. It felt— freeing.

You hadn’t felt this free and light in a while. You didn’t even realize how much your worries and concerns about Atsumu’s loyalty had weighed down on you.

Ding, ding

Your phone chimed, a new text message incoming. You hoped, hoped that it would be from Atsumu. Why did you hope for that? You felt so free when you weren’t thinking about him, why did you want him to text you? Why did you still want him to be with you and spend time with you despite what he did, and how he dressed you out?

You peeked at your notifications, and sure enough, it was from him. You saw his profile picture at the beginning of the textbox, a funny weird picture which was most likely taken by Suna as he was fighting with his other half.

“Is it him?” Kori’s voice made you jump, you could never get used to how deep it was, it was kind of scary whenever she’d talk out of nowhere. You nodded, opening up your messages to see what he had said.

Tsumu: Hey where are u? Didn’t you have club today? It’s Wednesday I always meet you after school to walk you home.

Should you answer? Honestly you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to act like everything was fine. It wasn’t fine. You closed your phone, just leaving him on read as you went back to watching the TV in front of you. It was playing your favorite anime, and Kori was drawing as per usual right next to you.

“What did tweedledum say?” Kori asked curiously, her Apple Pencil scribbling and scraping against her iPad screen in a precise, sharp manner. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at Kori’s nickname for Atsumu. Kori called the twins “tweedledee and tweedledum”. You weren’t sure if she even knew their actual names still. Of course she gave Atsumu the tweedledum name because he was indeed dum(b) about 90% of the time.

“He just asked where I was. I usually stay late for club which ends at the same time as his practice so we usually walked home together. But I skipped today.” You explained as Kori hummed softly in response. Kori didn’t pry or try to bring up the subject again for the rest of the time you were at her house. She thought it would be better to just— let you not think about it too much.

She offered for you to stay over for the night, but you said no to that. But Kori was worried for you, she wanted to make sure you were ok—so she said she could walk you home at least, but you shook your head, you couldn’t make her walk you home too after all she’d done for you already. So you waved goodbye to her, saying goodbye to her mom that had just pulled in from work as well with a soft smile that was half genuine, and half fake.

One half was genuinely happy after Kori helped you out, but the other half was still stuck on that dumb blonde. You’d gotten several messages from him on both Snapchat and text.

Tsumu: hello?? Don’t just leave me on read babe wth??

Tsumu: where even are you? Are you at someone’s house??

You then jumped, shit. Your Snapchat location. You almost forgot to turn it off. You quickly opened the app and turned off your location sharing before shoving your phone back into your pocket, putting on your headphones to try and focus on something different. You blasted music on your walk home, listening to anything your shuffled playlist would give you.

It was like your playlist knew. It kept playing these sad angsty songs that you liked listening to during late nights where sleep just couldn’t find you. For the second time that day, you cried, letting out choked and uneven sobs that you once again did not know you were holding onto. You didn’t even know why you were so hurt by what he said, it’s not like he broke up with you or anything. But still— why did it hurt like he just shot you four times straight through your heart and soul?

It was as if the bullets remained, not exiting your body, but lodging themselves deeper into your torn up heart, digging deeper and farther inside of you, not having any plans of leaving you.

The only thing comforting you now were the snug fit of the soft foam ears of your headphones, and your long sleeves that couldn’t reach past your wrists, staying at an uncomfortably short length that only made you feel worse. Any little thing made everything worse. Everything was just too much. Some part of you thought maybe it would’ve been better to stay at Kori’s like she’d offered before. But you were already too far away to turn back now, you’d just have to hope that the comfort of your own home would suffice.

Osamu wasn’t as popular as his twin brother Atsumu. But that didn’t mean he was unpopular. He was just overshadowed by his twin, or as he called it, his “better half”.

It was annoying how they’d all gather around his brother, he too found it kind of disturbing and weird. However of course he felt a bit envious, insecure about his own likability and looks. Did people find his brother more attractive despite them being identical twins? But why? Was it just him?

You’d been friends with the twins for a long while now, ever since middle school, even before they had their distinguishing dyed hair. You liked Osamu better the minute you met them both. Atsumu was so brazen and confident, and he wasn’t afraid to express his high standards of his fellow players, even upperclassmen.

You found it off putting how offensive the blonde could be to people. It was irritating to be around him. Osamu was different. He was pleasant to be around. He had a sense of humor, was laid back, reserved, and friendly for the most part.

He loved food, you knew that from the first time you sat with him in middle school for lunch recess. His droopy tired eyes would widen and sparkle whenever he saw food in front of him, specifically onigiri. It was cute to you, how he’d light up and become a completely different looking person at the sight of some simple, but satiating food. It was one of the many reasons why you chose him and not anyone else.

You felt so confused and baffled that Osamu didn’t see himself the same way you did. You saw someone special, he saw someone that was second best.

You tried. You really did.

Tried to make him see that he was perfect in his own way, perfect in your eyes, perfect for you.

But there was only so much you could do. Only so much you could say. He had to choose to believe your words, and do the rest on his own. It was called self confidence for a reason after all.

Your anniversary was coming up, it’d been 2 years since you two started dating officially. You took this as an opportunity to plan something special for you and your boyfriend this year. You knew he’d been stressed lately because of the upcoming tournaments, and because his twin was putting more pressure on him than ever. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d seen Atsumu chewing him out for accidentally missing a serve, a block, a receive, or a spike.

Every mistake he made, every single hesitation, his brother caught it and made sure Osamu knew exactly what he did wrong despite the poor gray haired twin already being well aware about what he’d done wrong. Having someone rub everything in his face was degrading and mentally exhausting.

Osamu was usually patient, you commended him for being as patient as he was with his brother. But it was taking a toll on his self esteem that was already fragile. Atsumu was basically hitting him in the same spot over and over again, not allowing the previous bruises heal before making a new one in the same area, eventually leaving a mark that won’t ever heal nor fully fade away.

But next week will be different. You’d make sure of it. You even enlisted the help from your friend to help you figure out some nice plans or ideas of what you could do with Osamu. However you knew at some point you’d have to overcome your beef with Atsumu for a moment, and ask him his thoughts. He was Osamu’s twin brother after all, he knew him better than anyone, maybe even better than you.

“You sure you gotta ask him?” Kori asked. Ugh, you didn’t want to of course. But yes, you’d have to put your dislike for his horrid personality aside for your boyfriend’s sake. You wanted your anniversary to be perfect after all.

“Can you come with me to ask him please?” You asked Kori, looking at her with pleading eyes, clasping your hands together. Kori looked at you, putting her pencil down as she sighed.

“Yeah no sorry you’re on your own.” Kori said with an apologetic expression. You let out a small groan, you knew Atsumu had some sort of beef with Kori, and Kori didn’t want to deal with a beef she didn’t even know was from.

“Oh come on please??”

“…Y/n you already know what will happen if I go with you.”

“Please Yoyo you’re my best friend—“ You tried using the nickname that usually got Kori’s attention, holding your friend’s hands with pleading eyes. If Kori went with you, you could make her ask instead of you, and if he got too exasperating to stand any longer, you’d have an excuse to leave.

Kori looked at you with a narrow and skeptical squint when you used that nickname on her.

“Don’t use that—“

“What, you don’t like it Yoyo-chan?”

“Bro.”

“I’ll stop if you come with me.”

“Nice try.”

You pouted and slapped her shoulder playfully with feigned anger as you crossed your arms over your chest with a sigh. But it couldn’t be helped, it wouldn’t be too horrible right?

“Huh? Yer asking me for help? That’s a new one.”

Ugh. It was horrible.

You covered your perturbed expression, but you couldn’t hide the sharp glare of your eyes as you tried to “fake it till you make it” as they say, and act cordial. But god, you wanted to tear off that smug looking grin off his face so badly. The tone he used was so condescending and belittling, it made you want to crush him with your bare hands, but you honestly couldn’t tell if that was just his normal tone of voice or if he was trying to sound like an egotistical asshole all the time.

Because if he was trying? He was doing an absolutely stupendous job.

“I just wanted to know— what are some of Osamu’s favorite things to do? I mean— I know what he likes but you’re his brother.. So I thought you’d know better than me.” You said, reluctantly swallowing a snarky insult you were about to accidentally say without thinking.

Atsumu scoffed and grinned at you, and you were expecting him to tease you which might’ve been your last straw, but surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Aw that’s sweet actually. I see why he loves ya so much.” You looked at him, expecting to maybe see some kind of smirk or malicious glint in his eyes, but no, he was genuinely saying that. You were pleasantly surprised, maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

You felt yourself smile at the fact that Osamu had made it clear to his brother of his love for you. If even someone as dense and emotionally oblivious as Atsumu could tell, then Osamu must’ve talked about you a lot. The thought of him talking about you so much made your heart flutter, sending a rush of joy and warmth through your veins, fueling your excitement and determination to plan the upcoming special day.

As you two talked, your excitement grew with each suggestion Atsumu made. Your smile was spread wide across your face, filled with genuine adoration and anticipation from how excited you were to surprise your beloved.

However, you failed to realize that Osamu might’ve gotten spoiled early. Spoiled about the wrong thing.

He saw you, chatting with his twin with your beautiful sweet smile that melted his heart to a puddle whenever you showed him. It absolutely destroyed him to see you blessing his brother with the sight instead of him.

Osamu knew you weren’t super close with him, but it’d always been in the back of his mind.

Is he better than me? He’s probably more fun.

Am I too boring?

Am I less good looking?

Am I always gonna be known as “Atsumu’s twin brother”?

He cursed and muttered painfully to himself as he walked off, he couldn’t watch you continue smiling and talking with his better half so cheerfully. Oh if only he had heard what you were talking about, then he would understand everything.

But he left, his fragile heart and self esteem shattered to unmendable pieces of a jigsaw that would never fit back together because of its missing piece.

He felt like a waste. He truly did.

Oh but no it was the opposite of what he thought.. You were only talking to his brother so enthusiastically because you were planning something special for him.

However, things get lost in translation. Misconceptions cause one person to become blind to the truth, quick to catastrophize, making haste to blame and lock away their feelings to try and preserve what they have left to spare. For Osamu? This was probably the worst misunderstanding, worse than any other situation you’d hear about. This was worse.

Oh this was bad. You just kept smiling and talking eagerly with his brother from a distance, that's all Osamu could see. His mind made up the subject of the conversation he thought you were having with Atsumu, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions that were incorrect. Yet there you were, blissfully unaware of the accidental turmoil you’d caused your boyfriend to suffocate in. Alone. Basking with his old friend, second place.

It was the day, finally it had arrived— your anniversary! You had so many things rushing through your buzzing mind, your heart racing with the good kind of anxiety and anticipation of the day ahead. You absolutely couldn’t wait to see Osamu, you could barely contain yourself from excitement.

You found this restaurant with Kori by researching online. It was a place that specialized in making onigiri, which was an establishment run by an old married couple that had been working there for generations. Kori had said that usually these types of places had the best food, and she was certainly not wrong about that.

You knew it was his favorite, so you thought it would for sure make him happy if you took him there, right?

You were expecting to wake up with a message from Osamu, but weirdly, he didn’t, your notifications were as empty as you left them last night. You thought nothing of it, maybe he’d just been too busy this morning to text you, he’d probably just tell you in person.

With a slight skip in your step, you walked up the stairs of Inarizaki, the familiar chatter and buzzing of fellow students’ varying footsteps echoing throughout the long hallways filled with people. Your gaze searched each head, each person’s hair color registering in your mind as you scanned the area. You were searching for one with a certain shade of gray…

There he was, the one with gray hair by the lockers!

You had to push your way through some students who didn’t seem to understand that perhaps having a conversation in the middle of the hallway was inconvenient for everyone around them. But that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was getting to your boyfriend.

“Samu! I found this super cute place that’s run by this family and they specialize in onigiri— I wanna take you there after school today ok?” Your vice was so chipper and enthusiastic, filled with adoration and love as he shut his locker door slightly harsher than normal. His gaze looked over to you, and you were immediately silenced by how cold it was. It was sharp, razor sharp, and frigid like a blizzard was raging in his dark irises.

You were confused— maybe he was just tired.. Yeah, that was probably it.

“…You ok Samu? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to I just thought that maybe you’d—“

“Why don’t ya go with Atsumu? You seemed awfully chummy with him earlier, so just go with him.” He snapped coldly. But his eyes, they looked so pained, hurt, and somber, not cold and apathetic like his tone.

And with that, he left you to drown in his quicksand-like words, his footsteps receding as he disappeared in the crowd of countless students.

If his words weren’t already enough, you were hit with the sudden realization that he had forgotten about your anniversary, the entire reason behind why you’d asked him to go with you.

What did he mean “you seemed awfully chummy with him earlier”?? What was he— oh.

Oh no.

No no no— he completely misunderstood!

You were talking with Atsumu about today and what you were planning on doing with HIM! It had nothing to do with Atsumu in the slightest!

But you knew Osamu. Too well at that. You knew that he’d be avoiding you now, avoiding you like the plague. He acted petty like that, just like his brother whom he refuses to admit is very similar to him in certain ways.

You knew he wouldn’t let you explain. But what really tore at your soul was that he didn’t even remember today was your anniversary. You had thought that maybe his lack of a “happy anniversary” message in the morning was a fluke, that he was just trying to hurry out the door to make it to school on time.

Now you knew he’d actually completely forgotten. Your throat felt so tight, your stomach hurt from guilt, but also betrayal.

Some part of you, some part of you knew this was going to happen. Or some form of this exact situation at least. You knew he felt inferior to his brother, and that it killed him inside. You’d tried your very hardest to make it so he knew you loved him and you always would choose him and no one else. But what could you do if he just wouldn’t believe your words, let alone believe in himself?

You, his s/o who he’s supposed to confide in, to trust in, to take your word over anyone else’s, didn’t trust your own words that you’d repeated so many times that you felt like a broken record.

He said he did understand and believe it, but he really didn’t. All those nods and silent “mhms” were all fake, he was never really listening. What occurred just moments ago that left you suffocating in pained silence was proof enough of that.

How many times did you have to fucking say it to him? Why were you the one that had to fix his insecurities? They were his insecurities, not yours. It’s self esteem, not your esteem. He was acting petty and jealous, and it was honestly starting to wear your patience thin.

Now that you were reflecting truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to you about anything other than his stresses at practice, or his brother. It was always something negative.. you hadn’t realized how bad it wore you down.

You were constantly dumped with negative emotions, and honestly, it could be called trauma dumping at this point. It was mentally exhausting. Having to reassure him every single day of something you tried so hard to get him to believe in.

But if he still wouldn’t trust your word, why were you wasting your energy and devotion on his irreversible immaturity? Why did you have to do all the work only to receive bad news all the time and be expected to make him feel better about himself? It was making you feel bad about yourself. It was taking a toll on you.

You were basically being the positive energy for two people when it was already exhausting enough to be your own supporter.

You let out a sigh of relief, exhaling tension you didn’t know you truly had. Your mind had decided it was time for you to move on, time for you to make him figure it out on his own. He was a 2nd year student for god's sake, he was damn well old enough to fix his own issues.

However with the exhale, you felt your eyes prick with tears of hurt and betrayal from his carelessness, from his complete lack of regard for your own feelings. He had forgotten your 2 year anniversary, it wasn’t like it was on leap year or something! It was an easy date to remember!

But you assumed that he was so self consumed that perhaps his mind thought it was meaningless to remember. That you and your words were not memorable enough, nor important enough to form a lasting memory.

He was everything to you, and you were everything to him too. So why was he like this? Why was he so insecure and petty? Why didn’t he believe in what you were telling him so adamantly?

He only believed his own thoughts, his word came first. You loved him so much, but it was getting more and increasingly difficult to keep loving him unconditionally. It was an uphill battle.

And you were miserably losing.

You had no chance against his own self being the enemy. You would come in second place no matter how hard you fought because there was no first place for you to take.

You knew he wasn’t the sweetest guy around. He just wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you, of course he did. You were the only one he didn’t actively search for dirt to use as blackmail material later.

He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person that’s for sure, but you loved him anyway. His fox-like eyes, his quiet and stoic demeanor, his tall stature, and his funny hobby of filming the twins fighting or bickering with each other to save for future references and laughs.

The team often wondered how he ended up making you, a kind, friendly, and sincere person, fall in love with him, the opposite of you. He thought about this as well, and sometimes felt guilty about the way he acted, how he was so detached and cold sometimes. Your love language being physical affection and touch combined with being Suna’s s/o was not a good synergy because he wasn’t the biggest fan of too much affection. Of course hugs, cuddles, kisses are all things he loves to give and receive. But in moderation. He got tired of it after too much.

However you did not. You could be pressed against him all day, in fact, holding his hand or being in contact every second you were with him sounded like the perfect scenario to you.

He never admitted it out loud, and didn’t plan to, but your hugs from behind his chair as he’s working on homework or studying were his favorite. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him from behind which allowed him to continue working on what was in front of him, but still allowing you to be near him, for your comforting presence be as close as possible.

Lately he’d gotten a lot of those, courtesy of the upcoming midterms. Now whenever you came over, he was always studying or working on schoolwork with his headphones on, his head leaning over and close to his desk as he worked countless hours and days, including nights. You were straying to get worried by the amount of empty energy drink cans that had accumulated on his desk, even on the top of his dresser. It was so bad that you could notice it while FaceTiming him. Not to mention the trash can underneath his desk was most likely full of them as well, just hidden from the view of the camera.

This was surely not good for him. At all.

Your mind was filled with concerned thoughts of him, worry swirling in your mind, distracting you from your own midterms that you had to study for as well. You suddenly had an idea during the peak of boredom during your math class.

You could go over to Suna’s after school, and buy you both some sort of bento box to eat. You knew Suna probably hadn’t eaten a real meal other than ice pops in days. He kept failing to realize that frozen fruity ice water in the shape of a flattened cylinder wasn’t exactly full of nutrients. Then you two could study together afterwards. Two minds working in tandem were better than two on their own. Or that’s what you thought at least.

Pulling out your phone discreetly, you texted Suna to let him know you were coming over, knowing that he probably would be on his phone right about now.

You: Hey I’m gonna come over today after school with some snacks and food, maybe we can study together?

….

Suna: yeah sure. I can’t text rn I gotta pay attention

You: oh my bad, I’ll see you after school

read at 3:32pm

You were a bit surprised that he was actively paying attention during class, especially since right about now he was most likely in AP world history. His tone even through text sounded stressed and a bit more harsh and cold than usual, but you knew he was anxious and worked up about the midterms which was absolutely valid and normal. But still, it lacked the usual hint of warmth that his texts usually had, regardless of his word choice.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the clock, your gaze intently focused on each centimeter the second hand moved, slowly making its way around the entire circular clock on the wall, rotation after rotation. You swore the second hand moved backwards a couple times, as if time were quite literally reversing as you stared at the clock.

Your teacher’s lecture was essentially gibberish, your brain couldn’t focus on anything but the thought of going home to study and take care of your boyfriend who obviously needed the help. You were probably going to need help too from the looks of it, seeing as how you didn’t remember a single thing nor comprehend anything your teacher was saying.

RING RING

You practically fell out of your seat at the piercing ringing of the school dismissal bell. You sprung to your feet, as did everyone else, and as you were packing up your things, your teacher suddenly shouted something, his voice shouting over the commotion that had started from the bell’s relieving cry.

“Excuse me? The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!”

Oh for god's sakes— you wanted to take the damn bell and smack his head with it for saying that. Everyone audibly groaned, sitting back down with a synced chorus of irritated and grumpy sighs.

“Ok the homework is just studying and reviewing the accumulated material for the midterm on Thursday. You’re dismissed.”

…Are you serious?

That was it?

That was what he made you all stay for?

Oh nah god give you strength to not clock this bald, old, bitter ass, Walmart bill nye in the face with your textbook. You thought about it, seriously debating whether or not it’d be worth it. But you walked past him, deciding it wasn’t worth your time. You took a deep breath in and out, exhaling the pain of that math class as you walked with a determined look in your eyes. You had a plan.

You’d hit the convenience store on the way to Suna’s house, buy some food for the two of you, and then go over to his house to help him actually eat a normal meal, maybe clean up a bit, and then study of course.

With a fast and brisk pace, you walked into the store with a singular goal in mind, quickly picking out a couple of bentos for the both of you. Exiting the store right after you walked in, your quick pace never wavered as you made your way towards your boyfriend’s house, the plastic bag full of the food and snacks in your left hand, your bag in your right, determination in your eyes, and compassion in your heart.

As you knocked on the door, you saw the familiar face of his mom who immediately smiled upon seeing and recognizing you.

“Ah y/n, I’m so glad you’re here actually. Rintaro just got home— he’s been so quiet lately. He’s been locked up in his room everyday after school and on the weekends.. I think he’s studying but I’m a bit worried that it’s too much. The boy won’t listen to me either about drinking all those energy drinks.. maybe you’ll have better luck?”

His mom looked at you with hopeful eyes, and you smiled, nodding and reassuring her you’d try your best to help. His mom thanked you with a grateful smile, nodding as you walked up the stairs, down the familiar hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You thought about knocking first. Should you? He was your boyfriend.. Did you really need to knock? Well it was courteous to knock before entering anyone’s do—

And suddenly the door opened for you, revealing the tall figure of Suna in front of you. His narrow, fox-like eyes droopy, tired, and strained from staring at a laptop for too long, or reading in the dark. He had faint dark circles underneath his hazel green eyes, and his hands were a bit shaky, just barely noticeable, probably from the obscene amount of caffeine he’d consumed these past few days to stay up and study. You showed him the bag full of various snacks and food with a little smile before he stepped aside, opening the for further for you to come into his room.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you stayed silent as you took in the whirlwind of disarray that was your boyfriend’s room. It looked like hurricane Katrina had ravaged his room. Empty cans everywhere, wrappers from countless ice pops, pencil and eraser shavings, crumpled up pieces of paper, and dirty clothes. It didn’t smell wonderful, that's for sure.

You saw just how exhausted he looked, how stressed and anxious he was. He never usually studied this hard for school, in fact— you’d never really seen him studying much at all. Midterms plus the stress of the upcoming volleyball qualifying tournaments were probably weighing down on him more than he could handle. You looked at him with a worried and sorry look on your face as you watched him eat his bento in silence.

He did not utter a single word, not a hello, not a how are you, just nothing but the silence and the sounds of chewing. It was awkward for you to say the least. So you decided to break this uncomfortable silence, trying to bring up a more light hearted topic to hopefully bring some light to his dark room.

“So.. Anything new and funny happen with the twins?”

You knew he liked to leave the twins to fight and bicker without stopping them because it was fun to film their brawls. He could care less about them hurting each other by accident, it was entertaining to watch them fight. He didn’t respond, he simply kept chewing, his eyes lost in thought as they stared at the ground with nothing but a vacant empty iris with no color or hue. It was like all the color was sucked out of his eyes, and it was starting to take his skin too. He was getting paler as you sat and stared at him!

Maybe he didn’t hear you, so you repeated yourself a second time, not noticing how the moment you started speaking, his fists clenched and trembled as he gripped his pant legs.

“Rin?? Can you hear m—“

“God y/n can you shut the hell up please?!” He snapped, his fist slamming against the hardwood floor, making the house shake just slightly, making you jump in surprise and shock. Your eyes were wide, searching his gaze for a hint of guilt or remorse, maybe he was just stressed and overstimulated?

But his eyes were ice cold, filled with irritation and frustration, not a hint of remorse in them. Did.. did he really mean that?

Surely he didn’t.

No he didn’t, right?

…Right?

“S-sorry..” You couldn’t help but stutter a bit, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He continued eating in silence, you could practically feel his frustration and stress seething off of him like smoke. You purse your lips together, struggling to not release your tears.

You knew it wasn’t all that bad, but still, it hurt to hear him say that to you. You knew it wasn’t supposed to make you feel this horrible, but it did. No amount of convincing yourself it wasn’t that bad of a sentence would take away or lessen the pain it gave you.

About 39 minutes of dead silence followed, and you got up, taking all the empty cans and containers scattered across his room and sticking it all into a trash bag, tying it up and leaving it by his door for him to take out later. You decided that maybe it would be best to leave him alone, and grabbed your things, opening the door to leave, glancing back at your boyfriend who was studying, wearing his headphones. You wanted to say goodbye, you wanted to say you loved him and to not push itself too far. Most of all, you wanted to hear him say that he loved you. But judging from earlier, he probably wouldn’t even want to hear your voice at all.

“See you later Suna.” You muttered under your breath, closing the door behind you as you left. Did he even realize you were leaving? He didn’t even look up from his desk. He didn’t thank you for the food. He didn’t thank you for cleaning up. He didn’t thank you for trying to help him. Nothing you did was acknowledged. You went out of your way to help him, and it appeared that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do.

You quietly walked down the steps, opening the front door and closing it behind you.

With your back against the wall, hidden from Suna’s family, that’s when you began to feel tears welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as you hid your face in your sleeves. Why were you crying? Was the stress of the midterms catching up to you too? Or was it purely because of his outburst?

You didn’t know. Hell— you didn’t know anything did you? Obviously not it seemed.

a/n - idk why but I’m in a very angsty mood 😂 I’m sorry for hurting you guys I really am 😭😭😭

[greenqueenhightower]

Larys x Alicent Scene in 2x04—Analysis:

The scene opens with Alicent getting a hot stone to ease her abortion pains which were distracting enough that she forgot to hide the moon tea jar. She bids “come” to the visitor who knocks at her door. She’s suffering alone, having refused the maids and servants Larys sent her to tend to her every need. It's her attempt to loosen his grip on her.

Notice how she says “Lord Larys” and closes her eyes when she becomes aware of his presence. He has appeared at the worst possible moment.

Larys knows immediately that something is amiss for Alicent to skip the council meeting, and as per Matthew’s words, whenever something is going on, Larys seeks a way to benefit from it. So he enters the room and Alicent lies blatantly and in front of his face. He doesn’t like that. After all, they had a relationship of mutual trust. Or so he thought. Alicent now reveals that she could never trust him fully, and maybe he should have done the same. There is so much unsaid conversation happening.

Alicent is scared to finally expose herself so openly to Larys who can see right through her and her lies. Look at how Larys stares at Alicent when he says “that is a rich indulgence” referring to the moon tea. The tension is off the charts. He says “it is a sin to deny your appetites” and he means Alicent's natural sexual drives. He is basically telling her that she shouldn’t feel sorry or in need to hide the fact she is having sex; if only she were doing so more openly. Is that an invitation?

“They are what make us fully alive as mortal men.” Larys compares his foot fetish to Alicent's sexual lust. They are both appetites and he offers an excuse for both of them. Larys is already thinking about how he might use this situation to his advantage. 

Alicent is evidently afraid and disturbed. Her secret is exposed. She changes the subject to the council. She has to steady herself and grab a chair. She bends her back and looks more crippled during that scene than Larys who again towers over her. He further examines her surroundings for more information. What is going through the Queen’s mind these days? Has he completely lost his grip on her since she sent all the maids away?

“Ser Criston wins every challenge he faces there” and “you must worry for him”—he knows, he definitely knows, and tries to provoke a reaction. Her general response of only worrying for him because he is the Hand of the King, confirms it. Notice how he stands up to come closer to her and Alicent sighs and holds her forehead; she knows this interrogation is not over.

He tells her that she has not appeared herself as of late. It's him, Larys Strong, who knows the Queen so well that he can offer a comparison. Something is amiss; what has so altered her state? This time he is not fishing for Alicole confirmation, he is referring to her frame of mind. What has upset it? Her response is enlightening not because she lets him in on the toll these events have had on her, but because essentially, she tells him off. She implies that he should mind his place, and stop trying to invade her every thought, the same way he invades her space. That he should let her at least have her mind to herself. But he knows how to get her to talk, and she reveals that she started looking into the histories as a source of wisdom like Viserys did.

Notice how shocked she is when he proves that he can read her thoughts and say: “do you think this is why he changed his mind, in the end?” Damn it, damn him, how does he do it every time? He knows what she's thinking. He knows she's been musing over Viserys’ wish for Rhaenyra to be Queen.

“Do you now doubt his intentions?” Larys is a discerning creep. He manages to get what he wants out of Alicent: she responds in a way that matters so much to him and concerns how the war will be fought. Is his Queen going to chicken out now that she has discovered her misinterpretation of Viserys’ words? How is his Green side going to fare in this war? Should he be looking elsewhere, or do they still have the upper hand and go for the win? Alicent reassures him by saying that Viserys wishes have ceased to matter. They are going to pursue their goal nonetheless. And that is what Larys wants to see and hear: that they are still on the same page and she is ready and willing to play the game for herself. That they are still the cunning and scheming allies they have always been, despite Alicent's revelations.

Or, he starts to think, perhaps even more so now.