#so this is the same idea but the categories are slightly different

[obstinatecondolement]

Okay, so this is pretty rough and ready, but perhaps something like:

P - Pikachu (exciting – i.e. "electrifying" reads because pikachu is an electric type) O - Oddish (originality/felt fresh – oddish has "odd" in its name and is a grass type. I know this is a stretch) K - Kakuna (character development – kakuna is literally a cacoon) E - Eevee (I'm torn between just a catch all "enjoyment" justified by "I like eevee a lot" or something more vague like "plot potential" or "adaptable to other media" but I don't think they are essential criteria for books and I don't want something scoring lower than it would otherwise just because it didn't get some contrived score that I made up so I could make an acronym) M - Meowth (prose and/or dialogue – the meowth in Team Rocket in the anime can talk) O - Onix (grounded – this one is another stretch, but onix is a rock/ground type) N - Ninetails (plot development – ninetails is the evolved form of vulpix)

Is this basically just the CAWPILE system but slightly worse? Yes. But it spells pokemon and that's fun.

Watching a lot of reading journal videos at the moment and it kind of makes me want to formalise the pokemon-based book rating system I invented when I was 10. Or maybe make some ungodly hybrid of it and the CAWPILE system, since I don't know how much more formal you can make "If it was exciting, I will put a pikachu sticker on the insider cover, boring books get a snorlax" etc.

It was very qualitative, lol.

[pathologicalreid]

Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:

hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH

i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭

-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)

epiphany | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!

epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

before

The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”

Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”

Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.

“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.

Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”

Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”

Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.

It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”

“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”

The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.

In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.

“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.

Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.

Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”

during

There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.

Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.

“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.

Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”

His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.

You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.

If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.

“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.

Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.

A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.

“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.

Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.

Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.

“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.

Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.

Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.

With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.

It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.

The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.

Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”

I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.

He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.

The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.

There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.

after

You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.

Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.

Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.

What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.

Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.

As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.

“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.

The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.

epiphany

The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.

Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.

Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.

You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”

Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.

Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”

Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”

Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.

“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.

Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”

You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.

“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.

Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.

“You want to be who again?”

Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.  

He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”

You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.

“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.

Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”

Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“

“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.

Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.

You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.

The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”

Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.

“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.

Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”

[fairydustblossom]

encroaching promises

azriel x reader

summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."

category: angst (i just rly love it)

word count: 4.8k

warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??

notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!

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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.

He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far. 

You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.

You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted. 

Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.

After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?

The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.

It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?

Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time. 

You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated. 

And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal. 

When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.

Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of. 

You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over. 

You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.

“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears. 

“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.

The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before. 

Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at. 

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 

Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.

“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.

“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.

He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.

At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”

You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?” 

His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.” 

His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.

“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”

You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you? 

“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise. 

“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”

“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release. 

Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.

You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.

Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell. 

He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.

Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.

You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you. 

You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.

Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said.  “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left. 

Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian. 

You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.

When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.

You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it. 

You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.

You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal. 

All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you. 

“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.” 

When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well. 

He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry” 

He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony. 

“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.” 

You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”

At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”

You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.

You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no  sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.

Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”

Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”

You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences. 

You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right. 

“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.

[transmutationisms]

from a non-academic, i find parts of comphet to be useful (heterosexuality becomes compulsory when you’re raised in a heterosexual society) but the foundations . suck. what do we do with theories like this, that have touched on a truth but also carry a lot of garbage? can we separate the truth from the founder?

i have to be slightly pedantic and say that i don't think rich's essay is an example of this phenomenon. my central issue with her formulation is its bioessentialist assumptions about human sex and therefore also sexuality. if i say "capitalism includes economic mechanisms that enforce heterosexual behaviour and exclude other possibilities", then what i mean by "heterosexual" is plainly not the same as what rich means—and for this reason i would seldom formulate the statement this way, without clarifying that i am talking about the enforcement of heterosexuality as a part of the creation and defence of sex/gender categories themselves. so rich and i do not actually agree on the very fundamental premises of this paper! rich was not the first or only person to point out that economic mechanisms as well as resultant social norms enforce heterosexual pairings; i actually don't even think the essay does a very clear job of interrogating the relationship between labour, economy, and the creation of sex/gender; she means something different and essentialist to what i mean by sex and sexuality; and i think her proposed responses to the phenomenon she identifies as 'compulsory heterosexuality' are uninteresting because they mainly propose psychological answers to a problem arising from conditions of political economy. so, in regards to this specific paper, i am actually totally comfortable just saying that it's not a useful formulation, and i don't feel a need to rescue elements of it.

in general, i do know what you're talking about, and i think there's a false dichotomy here: as though we must either discard an idea entirely if it has elements we dislike, or we accept it on the condition that we can plausibly claim these elements and their author are irrelevant. these are not comprehensive options. instead, i would posit that every theory, hypothesis, or idea is laden with context, including values held and assumptions made by their progenitors. the point is not to find a mythical 'objective' truth unburdened by human bias or mistakes; this is impossible. instead, i think we need to take seriously the elements of an idea that we object to. why are they there? what sorts of assumptions or arguments motivate them, and are those actually separable from whatever we like in the idea? if so, can we be clear about which aspects of the theory are still useful or applicable, and where it is that the objectionable elements arise? and if we can identify these points, then what might we propose instead? this is all much more useful, imo, than either waiting for a perfect morally unimpeachable theory or trying to 'accept' a theory without grappling with its origins (political, social, intellectual).

a recent example that you might find interesting as a kind of case study is j lorand matory's book the fetish revisited, which argues that the 'fetish' concept in freud's and marx's work drew from their respective understandings of afro-atlantic gods. in other words, when marx said capitalists "fetishise" commodities or freud spoke about sexual "fetishism", they were each claiming that viewing an object as agentive, meaning-laden in itself (ie, devoid of the context of human meaning-making as a social and political activity) was comparable to 'primitive' and delusory religious practices.

matory's point here isn't that we should reject marx's entire contribution to political economy because he was racist, nor is it that we can somehow accept parts of what marx said by just excising any racist bits. rather, matory asks us to grapple seriously with the role that marx's anthropologically inflected racism plays in his ideas, and what limitations it imposes on them. why is it that marx could identify the commodity as being discursively abstracted and 'fetishised', but did not apply this understanding to other ideas and objects in a consistent way? and how is his understanding of this process of 'fetishisation' shaped by his beliefs about afro-atlantic peoples, and their 'intelligence' or civilisational achievements in comparison to northwestern europeans'? by this critique matory is able to nuance the fetish concept, and to argue that marx's formulation of it was both reductive and inconsistently applied (analogously to how freud viewed only some sexuality as 'fetishistic'). it is true in some sense that capital and the commodity are reified and abstracted in a manner comparable to the creation of a metaphysical entity, but what we get from matory is both a better, more nuanced understanding of this process of meaning-making (incl. a challenge to the racist idea of afro-atlantic gods as simply a result of inferior intelligence or cultural development), and the critical point that if this is fetishism, then we must understand a lot more human discourse and activity as hinging on fetishisation.

the answer of what we do with the shitty or poorly formulated parts of a theory won't always be the same, obviously; this is a dialogue we probably need to have (and then have again) every time we evaluate an idea or theory. but i hope this gives you some jumping-off points to consider, and an idea of what it might look like to grapple with ideas as things inherently shaped by people—and our biases and assumptions and failings—without assuming that means we can or should just discard them any time those failings show through. the point is not to waste time trying to find something objective, but to understand the subjective in its context and with its strengths and limitations, and then to decide from there what use we can or should make of it.

[whereforarthur]

Caught Red Handed

Request: this is kinda a crazy one idk but what about where reader is like touching herself secretly whilst george is filming and cos hes got his green screen up he doesn’t realise till afterwards when reader is kinda like flustered

Pairing: George Clarkey x Reader

Category: Smut

Word Count: 3.2k

*****

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in.- Charles Hart

"Alright guys," George stated excitedly into the webcam, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he thought to himself, Today we're plunging into the world of indie gaming. I found some pretty weird games to go over."

As he began his recording, his fingers danced over the keyboard and the screen flickered with numerous coloring. His girlfriend, Y/N, sat silently on his bed behind him, her heart beating as she watched his reflection in the monitor.

His bedroom was a crowded safe haven of gaming equipment, with gaming and movie posters hanging on the walls and controllers thrown like plastic confetti on the floor. The only sounds that could be heard was George's voice as he was recording, the distinct hum from the computer and the occasional tap of George's foot on the floor. Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze constant on the green screen that separated her from George. She could sense the heat rising up to her cheeks, as she thought about how good he looked and sounded. The allure almost becoming to much for her to handle.

Could she actually touch herself while he was recording, without him hearing her? She had to test the waters.

Her hand moved under the blanket, her fingertips tracing up along her thigh as her pulse pounded in her ears. She nippled her bottom lip to hold back the gasp that fell from her lips as her eyes affixed on the screen's reflection of George's face. His attention was completely on the game, his voice a steady stream of enthusiastic comments over the pixelated landscapes and quirky characters filling the screen. Y/N felt a twinge of guilt, but it was shortly overshadowed by the building of a different need.

Lust.

The smooth fabric of her pajama shorts teased her skin as she moved closer to the bed's edge. She observed his shoulders, which moved scarcely as he leaned forward, his eyes wide with eagerness. His laughter was like a siren song to her, sending shivers down her spine and sparking a fire inside her. She started to move her hand in a slow rhythm, the shallow and erratic breathing building up in her body.

Her brain was a mess of sensation as the voice of George stirred her desire to a fever pitch. The velvety timbre of his words, the way they rolled from his tongue, created bright images in her mind, each more tantalizing than the last. She could almost feel his breath on the back, mimicking when he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He was completely oblivious to the silent symphony playing out just behind him. The cadence in his speech, the rise and fall of his inflection, set a metronome in her own building crescendo.

The tension in the air was so palpable, she hoped George didn't sense it. She had to tread carefully, the idea that even a small misstep could divulge what she was doing behind his back, literally. Yet, it become thrilling—a potent blend of risk and longing that only turned her on more.

Y/N's touch became bolder, her fingertips dancing across sensitive flesh, tracing the same patterns that George would touch. She felt her body coiling tighter, the pressure developing like a spring about to snap. Her breath stuck in her throat as she swallowed a moan, her eyes locking close for a brief second. The mattress groaned slightly beneath her, a silent hint at what was truly going on.

It was then that she heard it-the faint click of George's chair swivelling. Her eyes shot open, and she froze, her hand trapped under the blanket. The room was utterly still; the only sound was the soft rustle of fabric against skin. Had he heard? A jolt of panic ran through her, the pounding of her pulse in her ears a furious drumline.

But George said nothing, his gaze to the screen as he froze the game in its tracks. He leaned back, rubbing his neck, and she felt a jolt of both relief and dread realizing he was done recording. He was playing the playback, his eyes scanning over the screen with a critical eye. Y/N held her breath, her heart beating so fast it was about to burst from her chest.

Her hand lay immobile, trapped under the blanket, willing her body to calm down. The room was eerily silent; the only sound was George's voice as he muttered to himself. She watched George's mirrored image-the thoughtfulness of his expression as he went over his recording-and she couldn't help the arousal that bubbled at the sight of him so absorbed in his work.

Y/N took a deep, steadying breath and continued to touch herself once more, her hands taking over their silent dance. The guilt was still there, a gentle whisper in the back of her mind, however her excitement was too strong to ignore, outweighing any guilt or doubt she had. The idea of George's reaction, of him finding out what she'd been doing while he was so intent, took her desire that much further. She touched herself with more purpose now, setting her eyes on the screen and the reflection of his shadow playing on her face as she touched herself.

The tension within the room was so sharp you could practically cut it with a knife, the air thick with the fragrance of sweat and smell of arousal. The blanket was wrapped warm around her, every inch caressing her skin with softness. With every stroke, added her closer and closer and towards the edge till her breathing was only let out in short breathy moans and gasps.

*****

And then, it happened.

George's chair scraped against the floor, and he stood up, stretching his hands over his head with a yawn. He reached for the top of the green screen-his hand brushed the fabric, as he went to pull it down. Y/N's eyes went huge, her heart skipped a beat as he commenced to tug it down. Her mind started to race, conjuring up every excuse in the book of how she could possibly explain what she was doing. But there had been no time.

The screen fell away, and she was shown in full flustered glory, her hand buried under the blanket. George's eyes went comically large as his jaw dropped to the floor. For a moment, the only sound was the deafening silence that filled the room. Y/N felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn't believe she'd been caught.

"Bloody hell, Y/N!" George exclaimed, his voice in a tone of shock and amusement. He staggered backward, tripping on a headset that had been strewn across the floor. "What the…?" He trailed off, his eyes darting between her and the her hand under the blanket as the situation finally clicked into place.

Y/N's face flushed a deep crimson as she quickly withdrew her hand from beneath the blanket. "I—I didn't mean for you to see this," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She clutched the blanket tightly, pulling it up to her chin as if it could somehow shield herself from the wave of embarrassment crashing over her.

George's eyes widened in disbelief, a smirk beginning to play on his lips. "So, were you… touching yourself while I was recording?" he asked, his tone teasing despite the evident shock etched on his face.

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor in shame. "I didn’t intend to; it just… happened," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric.

She could feel his gaze on her but couldn't bring herself to meet it, the weight of his stare too much to bear.

For a moment, George said nothing; his smirk fell away into a look of contemplation. Then suddenly filled with energy, he sprang from his feet and rushed over to the bed, making Y/N yelp and scoot back. "You naughty girl," he purred low and smooth, sounding like a growl that sent a thrill through her.

"You were so turned on by me you couldn't wait?" He repeated the words back at her with eyes glinting with mischief. "I had no idea my voice turned you on that much, love." He leaned over her, his hot breath fanning across her cheeks, as his hand began to ghost over her thigh, not too far away from where she was previously touching herself.

Y/N’s breath stuck within her throat, the mortification of being found out morphing into something different as George's touch grew bolder. “I…I think it was just too difficult for me to say no,” she answered on trembling voice. The room fell into a deep silence, thick with an energy that felt like current.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" His voice became low and rumbling, sending a shiver down her spine. His hand slipped underneath the blanket and his palm stroked over hers. She gasped when he took over, his touch sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. "Seems like I need to take over this situation, love."

He leaned in nearer, nuzzling his nose into her ear as his hand continued to explore. "You're so wet," he murmured, full of wonder and lust. "What would make you do such a thing?" His tongue traced the shell of her ear, and she couldn’t help it as a whimper fell from her lips. “Was it my voice? My passion?”

Y/N nodded, incapable of coherent words as George’s touch turned insistent. Her body responded in kind, arching into his hand, desperate for more. “It’s…it’s just…” she trailed off, lost in the sensations.

"Just what?" He prodded, his breath hot on her neck. "Tell me, love." His voice was quiet persuasion, a gentle command she couldn't disobey.

"It's just…" She managed to gasp between pants of breath. "It's seeing you so into it…it…it does something to me."

George’s throaty laugh sent a jolt of electricity racing through her veins. “If watching me play video games does this to you, I can’t wait to see what happens when I'm actually touching you,” he whispered against her ear.

He tugged the blanket off her with one swift movement, and she was exposed to the cool air of the room. She was about to protest, but his mouth went to hers, cutting off any sound she might utter. His kiss was deep and possessive; his tongue sliding against hers as if in some silent declaration of intent.

Y/N's body felt electric, with every nerve ending buzzing. She held onto him grabbing his shirt as he kissed her more. His taste was minty with a flavor that was all his own, and she craved more. The world melted away outside the bedroom leaving just them and the thunderous beat of their hearts.

When George pulled back, she gasped for air, her eyes cloudy with longing. He smiled at her - the type of smile that made her stomach do somersaults. "Should we turn up the heat?" he said , his fingers drifting to the edge of her shorts.

Y/N nodded but her voice was lost in a sea of want. She knew she ought to be so much more embarrassed, so much more self-conscious. But with George looking at her that way, there was nothing she could do but crave his touch. And as he began to peel away the last of her clothing, she realized perhaps she wasn't as secretive after all. Maybe this was what she had wanted all along-his full, undivided attention.

His gaze scoured her bare skin, a mix of need and tenderness that made her feel like the most beautiful person in the world. "You're so beautiful," he muttered thick with longing. "And all mine." His hands mapped the lines of her body, sending trails of fire over their wake, to re-familiarize himself with every inch of her.

Y/N gasped as he pulled her pajama shorts down her legs. George's fingertips brushed the inside of her thighs making her tremble. He kissed her with intensity and care, as if savoring every moment. His touches, both soft and strong, caused surges of longing within her. It was as if he could read her mind, knowing exactly what she needed, and was hell-bent on giving it to her.

As he parted her legs and knelt before her, she felt the jolt of excitement in new, uncharted territory with a heart that was racing faster than it ever had. Yet with George, she knew she could feel safe, cherished, and utterly wanted. And when his mouth found her, she knew she'd never felt more alive, more connected to another human being in her entire life.

The world outside of the bedroom was forgotten, eradicated by the sensations that George was coaxing from her body. His tongue danced with a mastery that made her shake, even as his teeth grazed her flesh with just enough pressure. Her hips bucked against his face, and she couldn't help the whimpers escaping her as she grew closer to the edge.

The room was filled with their heavy breathing, the rustling of fabric, the wet sounds of George's ministrations. And through it all, the steady thrum of his voice, whispering sweet nothings that only served to heighten her pleasure.

"You taste so good," he murmured against her, his breath hot and tantalizing. "So sweet and ready for me." His words sent an electric jolt through her and she dug her nails deep into the mattress.

With a final, lingering kiss, he stood, his eyes never leaving hers as he removed his own clothing. The sight of him, bare and aroused, was almost too much to handle. She felt her core clench with need, and she knew she was close, so close.

And then he was over her, looming above her, the weight of his body pinning her into the bed. His hand found her again, his fingers pumping in and out of her in a rhythm that kept tempo with her heartbeat. "I want to feel you come around me," he groaned, his voice rough and husky, sparking her shivering skin alive with gooseflesh. "I want to be the one who makes you scream."

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes as George positioned himself above her, his hard length pressing into the wet heat nestled between her trembling thighs. "It's you," she whimpered on an exhale, begging him. "Please God… it's always been you." And then he thrust upward inside of her—so hard that for a split moment all she could see was stars.

He moved with an elegance that was both deliberate and unhurried, as if savoring every single moment. Each gesture was imbued with a sense of purpose, and his eyes were locked onto hers, unwavering and deeply focused. The intensity of his gaze created an almost palpable bond between them, one that felt magnetic, drawing them ever closer. She could see the smoldering desire reflected in his eyes—a profound yearning that mirrored her own, awakening something deep within her.

Every movement they shared felt special, almost like a promise between them. It was a quiet but powerful sign of his love and how much he missed her. She naturally moved in sync with him, matching his energy and creating a beautiful connection filled with desire that surrounded them both. When they met, it was like they were dancing to an ancient tune, a rhythm that echoed deep within them and drew their spirits together in a heartfelt hug that they wouldn't soon forget.

Each motion was more than just a physical action; it was a sign of his deep love for her—a quiet promise that expressed his feelings. She responded in the same way, matching him step for step, creating a stunning duet filled with longing and passion. Her body arched to meet his, and they moved together in a dance that felt timeless, a rhythm as old as life itself that echoed in their very beings.

With every move, her hips craved his, creating a primal dance that felt like a part of her very being. Waves of rhythm flowed through her, echoing a heartbeat that resonated deep within her soul, igniting a fire of desire that could not be contained.

In that moment when they were united, their bodies came together in a beautiful mix of skin, warmth, and unrestrained passion—more breathtaking than the greatest piece of art ever made. George’s touch enveloped her, a consuming blaze that ignited every nerve ending, and his kiss marked her as his own—a claim that sent exhilarating shivers coursing through her. It was a connection born from a sacred space, a sanctuary of belonging that wrapped around her like a warm embrace, filling her with a sense of home.

As they neared the climax of their shared experience, a fire brewed within her, a force that felt as if it might tear her apart. Her muscles tightened around him, each breath becoming more ragged and desperate. “I’m close,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Almost there.”

“Come for me, darling,” he urged, his voice velvety yet roughened by desire, his breath coming in gasps as he leaned closer. “Let me feel it.” With a fierce thrust, he surged deeper into her, a force that propelled her into a dizzying abyss of sensation, overwhelming and intoxicating.

In that moment, everything around them changed completely, bursting into a mix of bright colors and strong feelings. Her body felt like a beautiful piece of music, with each feeling rising higher and higher, creating a wave of joy that filled her completely. She shouted his name, a powerful declaration that echoed throughout the room—her own song of freedom and surrender. George joined her in this intense experience, letting out a deep, primal sound that resonated within her, making her feel a thrilling sense of togetherness.

As the overwhelming joy began to fade, they fell to the floor in a messy pile of arms and legs, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts still pounding. “I love you,” she whispered softly, her voice delicate like a thread woven into the rhythm of their shared breaths.

He drew her closer, holding her in a tight embrace that felt like home. “I love you too,” he said, his voice filled with a warmth that spread through her heart like a gentle wave. “And I will never let you go.”

For a fleeting moment, they lingered in that beacon of silence, sealing away the weight of their worries and sorrows. Then, with a playful chuckle, George leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Anyway,” he teased, mischief glimmering in his eyes, “try not to distract me while I work.”

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, the sound a soothing balm after the tempest of their passions. "I'll try," she promised, still breathless, her heart racing in the aftermath of their shared intensity, a smile dancing on her lips.

They were all tangled up in the bedsheets, with the computer softly humming in the background, a gentle reminder that there was a whole world beyond their cozy little bubble. But in that moment, none of that seemed to hold any significance. All that truly mattered was the two of them, their deep love, and the shared secret that had led them to this intense moment of pure, unrestrained passion.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @kneelforloki @sunkissed222 @amz824

[here-there-were-dragons]

there’s something deeply wrong with the fact that if i just simply decided to walk around everywhere on all fours all day, and did absolutely nothing else differently, i would be guaranteed to have the cops called on me and be put back in a psych ward with at least 5 new diagnosis by the end of the day.

walking around on all fours isn’t even something i do or would want to do. it would destroy my arthritic-ass spine. but there’s something deeply, rage-inducingly fucked up about the fact that even something that small is enough for this society to deem it morally acceptable and necessary to dissapear you into fucking conversion therapy torture jail indefinitely and saddle you with life-ruining legal tags forever “for your and everyone’s safety”!

just commenting on this as being fucked up could very easily be enough to get me the same treatment if someone decided they wanted to! it’s not like anyone’s going to stop some psych person from deciding that this is totally real undeniable freudian slip 100% true we promise you guys evidence that i’m some kind of feral mentally degenerate personimal mindlessly beholden to some illogical instinct to crawl around and bite good normal god-fearing real people because CLEARLY you’d have to be crazy yourself and/or want to DO the thing yourself to defend this UNCOMFORTABLE THING, right? nobody could just think it’s fucked up how we treat doing (abnormal thing) without being a Secret Monster themselves, REAL people obviously know unquestioningly why it’s bad, you just want to be allowed to give in to your corrupted malformed wrong EVIL base instincts that you definitely have (INSTEAD of a conscious mind with any valid logical thoughts or worthwhile human experiences in it) because i said so and i’m The Expert so everything i say is true and right!

i can’t even figure out where to fit in the bit about how fucked it is that if you did anything “abnormal” like that literally everyone automatically assumes you’re going to be dangerous and violent about it. that if someone decides to go around on all fours then CLEARLY they’re going to randomly bite GOOD HEALTHY NORMAL REAL people for no reason. it’s like people can’t comprehend the idea of any even slightly deviant behavior that isn’t violence and just assume if anything even slightly weird’s going on it’s moving in the direction of mindless bloodshed-of good normal people’s blood, especially, personally, obviously. human-shaped things come in “actual person” and “mindless rabid horrordemon that desires only real human’s blood and pain” and as far as they’re concerned everything that even slightly inhabits, leans towards, or vaguely reminds them of the second category is functionally identical and will inevitably attack real humans the same way-for literally no reason beyond a cosmic ontological sort of Wrongness and Emptiness Of Real Thought And Soul-if allowed to exist in their field of view longer than thirty seconds.

[shinyrhinestones]

Four years

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader. (Implied AFAB).

Summary: The new member on the team had no idea that two of their coworkers were married.

Genre: Fluff, mild smut.

Category: Oneshot

Warnings: Mild smut (still minors dni), getting caught, mention of food.

———————-

Even though you were in a different state far away from you and Spencers home, didn’t make you and Spencer not want to hold each other close. You and Spencer were lucky enough to ending up in the same hotel room. The man you had been married to for some years now. And it can get rough to deal with the cases you and Spencer get to work on with your team. It’s nice to be able to cuddle together before continuing a case. Sometimes you and Spencer want to be closer. Which you did that night.

You were laying on your back, completely bare like your husband on top of you. You rested your hands on Spencers shoulders as he was thrusting into you at a slow pace. He was kissing down your neck and down to your chest. He was letting his warm kisses linger on your already hot skin. Both of your breathing heavy and sweat was already forming on Spencers skin even if you almost just started.

He was holding himself up with his arms on the bed, but he still managed to hold himself as close to you as he could. You also helped with that by wrapping your legs around his waist.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your skin. You smiled just a little at his words. You let your hands move from his shoulder to his hair and neck. Your touch was soft but of course he could feel it. You actually don’t know how you ended up laying on the other side of the bed. Perhaps it was the tickle fight you had before you got more intimate.

But as you were laying in the foot of the bed, the door to the hotel room opened, and Spencer immediately laid next to you pulling the covers up to shield you. Whoever had walked in couldn’t see your face as you were shielded by the footboard. Spencer was leaning on an elbow looking up at the intruder.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Reid. I got the hotel number wrong.” You heard the new agent Emily Prentiss say. You smiled at her voice, thinking of how embarrasing this was. You could see the blush on Spencers cheeks as he forgave her.

She had covered her eyes looking to the side while apologizing. Finally you heard the door close and the light from the hallway dissapear. You laughed immediately when she closed the door. Spencer gave you a gentle smile as you laughed. You cupped his right cheek with your hand and caressed him. “I can’t believe that just happened.” You struggled to say through your laughs. “Yeah..But it did.” He rubbed his eyes. You knew it was late and that he was probably really tired just like you.

—

The next morning you noticed how Emily gave Spencer an awkward smile before pretending like nothing happened. Which was probably the best thing to do. Nothing more in that. Luckily you didn’t have to feel that way around Emily for she didn’t get a good look at you. It would have been more embarrasing if she saw you as clearly as she saw your husband.

Around lunch Emily was sitting in a diner with Derek Morgan. At first they had been talking about the case they were working on when Emily had a question that had been on her mind for quite some time since last night.

“Hey Morgan.” She said after a moment of silence. “Mhm?” Derek looked up from his food with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Is Reid popular with the ladies? I just guessed you were the one who was..But last night I walked in on him and some..girl.” She tried to say without cringing at every single word. Morgan was silent for a few seconds before a chuckle escaped him and he smiled at Emily. “Reid is married.” He said lowering his fork onto his plate. Emily’s eyes widened and her jaw fell slightly. “He’s married? Do you think he was cheating on his wife?” Now Emily had known Spencer for just a few days since she had just started, but she already got the impression that Spencer Reid was a good man. She could never picture Spencer Reid unfaithful to his most loved one. “What? No!” Morgan said quickly. “No, he’s married to Y/N. They have been married for like four years.” Morgan said pointing his index finger infront himself.

“Oh god.” Emily’s heart calmed down again as she sighed. She chuckled. She wasn’t that surprised to find out you two were married. She was a profiler and even though you and Spencer were proffessional at work, she could still spot the way you looked at each other and how close you could stand and sit. How he didn’t flinch at your touch.

“Good, Reid cheating? I don’t think so.” She said in a playful tone, before she continued eating. Then you and Spencer walked into the diner together searching for the two other profilers. When you spotted them you immediately headed over to them. “Hey guys.” You said quite joyful as you sat down next to Emily putting your black coat on the back of the chair. Emily and Morgan shared a look before replying. Spencer sat next to Morgan, across you. You and Spencers legs touched and you smiled at him, as you on purpose nudged one of his legs. He gave you a small smile before briefly looking at the menu laying on the table. “What?” You said when you noticed the speficic look Morgan had in his dark coloured eyes. “Nothing.” His elbows rested on then table, his hands waving shortly in the air. You shrugged and looked at Emily who was wearing a similiar expression as Morgan. If you had known that Emily was going on telling her experience last night, you would have foreseen the teasing the others on the team would end up doing later on. But in that stage of Emily still fitting in in this new team she was actually more embarrassed about it. Of course JJ, Elle and Morgan loved to remind the three of you.

[two-dolla-bills]

Top 10 mechanisms songs that you can get away with playing at a retailers without too many side eyes

I got a job in retail and I felt inspired lol

Disclaimer: this is not a list of the best mechanisms songs/the ones I think deserve to go "mainstream", they're just the ones that would blend in the best

1. Sirens

This song is probably the mechanisms' least "centered" song. It doesn't mention any characters, it has no narration, and out of context it just sounds like A Song that you might hear on the radio. Sirens is to the mechanisms as you're the one that I want is to grease, you know?

2. Trial by song

THIS one. It's in the same category to me as Sirens; you can listen to it by itself and not suspect much. Unlike Sirens which can be completely separated and still make sense, this one is more like a whole new world from Aladdin. There are parts that make it obvious that it's from a larger whole, but if you just so happen to catch the "safe" parts you won't suspect much.

Points were deducted due to Mr. Soldier's unique vocals. (Unique as in not very common in mainstream music)

3. Empty trail

This is no offense to Dr. La Cognizzi, but sometimes when she sings it's hard to make out what she's saying, which works in her favor in these circumstances. It sounds country/rock, which help it blend in with some dad rock songs. If I remember correctly, the melody was actually taken from a Led Zeppelin song, so if you aren't paying attention to what's ACTUALLY being said you can get away with claiming it's a cover.

4. Ties that bind

Although this one does mention many plot points, many fans have stated that they had no idea what the fuck was being said until the have looked for the lyrics (myself included) this, combined with it's jazzy rythm, make it able to blend in with other songs, similarly to empty trail

5. Odin

The most "normal" song out of the entirety of The Bifrost Incident. This song made it to the top five because it has similarities with Roam by the B-52's, but had points deducted due to it clearly being about an awesome space train

6. Lost in the cosmos

This might just be personal opinion, but it sounds like a church song. You can pull off the effect of it being about earth Jesus and not space robot Jesus if you have particularly bad quality speakers and a busy store w/lots of noise. Again, the lyrics kinda give it away as to not being entirely main stream

7. Stranger

Look it's a banger, ok? Many of the lyrics could be taken as just being metaphors, but I feel like you have to squint to "see" it. Pay too much attention and shit gets a little weird. Also, points deducted because it's two men singing together and not a man and a woman, which throws a wrench into the works. At kohl's it might raise some eyebrows but in like hot topic it'll blend in a little better

8. Redeath

You would think a song about a sphoenix (space phoenix) would be lower on the list but you'd be wrong. It's a really pretty song with a good original melody, and it's something that can be drowned out by a particularly rowdy crowd. Like Stranger, it would blend in better at a hot topic than at kohl's, but only slightly.

9. Elysian Fields

The melody in Elysian Fields is taken directly from the song wayfaring stranger, which has been coverd by Jonny Cash, Ed Sheeran, Poor Man's Poison, and The Longest Johns, AS WELL HAS having been featured in the movie 1917 and in the video game The Last of Us II, which make it very recognizable. Because of this recognizability, people who know the original song may be caught off guard by hearing it in a Walmart with completely different lyrics. It was originally in 7th place, but the popularity of the original takes off many points

10. Once and future king

It's a banger, don't get me wrong, but it also very heavily and clearly mentions plot points from the album, which itself is heavily base on Aurtharian mythology; something very well known in the western world (also the names are not common at all and most haven't been in fashion in centuries). In a crowded, busy space with not very good quality speakers it could potentially blend in, but one or two names might sneak out. The only reason it's on the list is because of the instrumental outro, which sounds normal enough

[laurawaldorf]

Heyyy☺️

Just saw that u are gonna start writing for Eminem so i do have a request 🥹

where the reader is yonger then him like prob in 2005 shes 18 or so and shes a famous singer songwriter (her style being like billie eilish and lana dal ray) and like theres two different versions one where he writes a diss and during an award show she disses him back and like they later resolve their issues or so and something like them ending up recording in the same building and then them hooking up or another version being eminem loves her songs and they record in the same building so he asks to collab and them ending up together and they go through a fight and like she gets a call from his daughters ( coz they get along ) that he’s overdosed and her helping him through that phase and u can write more about how their relationship evolves like her being a huge support to himand hus daughters and them getting married ( or u could add him first not wanting to get married coz of kim but coming to his senses) then him mentioning her in his someone save me song about how much shes been there for him

Just so u know this is a random pitch u can either write somewhat the whole thing or just something like this idea 🥹

U can add anything or change a bit, thanks ☺️

꯭•:◦ 𝗜𝗙𝗛𝗬.

⠀⠀────────────────────

| 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: Marshall Mathers III (Eminem) x Fem!Reader.

| 𝗚𝗘𝗡��𝗘: Enemies to Lovers and slightly smut.

| 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: Slighty smut, flirting, making out.

| 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗: yes.

| 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: My Strange Addiction — Billie Eilish.

( heey, i just wanna thanks for being my first request! i hope you like it. 🤍 )

⠀⠀────────────────────

— Fuck. — It's the first word out of your mouth when you sees your musical rival sitting in the second row next to you at the 2005 VMAs Award.

It was your first MTV event after the release of your first album which was a global success, which gained you an absurd popularity in the pop industry, people knew you wherever you went, celebrities begged for a collab with your participation due to your soft voice and mesmerizing…However, your talent didn't just attract good things, it also attracted negative comments that were something common in an artist's life and a diss coming from the most controversial and well-known rapper of the 2000s, Marshall Mathers, or better known by his alter- ego, Slim Shady.

You discreetly judged Marshall by his look, seeing him smile with that cunning smile while talking to his mentor, Dr Dre. For a moment, your eyes met in quick eye contact, which made you shrug your shoulders and quickly look away as you took hurried steps towards your row, which was one in front, unlike the boy, who responded to the eye contact with a challenging and some sarcastic comments.

You felt the blonde's gaze in your direction, burning your back as if it were a touch, the boy's sharp gaze went through your body as if it were a knife, he knew you had heard the diss, and you knew he was going to use it. that as a weapon.

⠀⠀────────────────────

It didn't take long for the “Best Hip-Hop Video” category to begin, suspense hung in the air until the presenter finally decided to deliver the result: — Just Lose It, Eminem! — The presenter shouted excitedly, his mouth curving into a smile as he held the prize.

The event was filled with screams and applause from celebrities and fans who participated, Marshall got up and walked to the main stage to get his trophy. Discreetly, you sighed deeply, internally wondering how they left that song not only with diss for you but also for Michael Jackson to win, you couldn't say anything, just roll your eyes and cross your arms.

Eminem stood behind the microphone, holding his award in his hands as he thanked the presenter and waved to his fans who screamed for his presence. He got a little closer to the microphone until he started dictating his speech:

— Yo, this is crazy...I don't have a speech with me so I'll just say what comes to mind, I want to thank Dr Dre, my mentor who helped me during the Encore album process, I also want to thank the people at Shady Record and Paul Rosenberg. — Marshall said, letting his blue orbs meet yours. — I'm really happy for the award, but I see that there aren't many people happy about my achievement because of the diss, Right Y/N?

A provocative smile formed on the boy's lips when he mentioned your name, you could hear comments and laughter coming from other participants in the event, unlike you, who adjusted your performance and crossed your legs, your fists clenching every time your gaze fell on that one stupid smile he had on his face, doing everything he could to get to you as if to test your patience. The rest of the night went well, unlike the exchanges of barbs that became news in the media and the looks exuding hatred between the two when they saw each other at the MTV after-party.

⠀⠀────────────────────

After a few weeks, you and your team were invited to start a new album project at a renowned studio in Los Angeles, your excitement was radiant as your mind reasoned and processed several snippets of lyrics and a response to Marshall's diss. However, his excitement quickly disappeared when he saw the same boy in the hallway, making him snort and a disinterested and hateful look form on his face. The rapper noticed a look of anger burning his back, making him turn his head with a look of distrust and mockery until his eyes fell on you, and soon that same sarcastic smile formed on his lips.

Your team made sure the two of you didn't run into each other in the hallways to avoid causing an argument, but it was difficult when Eminem came into your studio just to tease you.

After a long album production session, the moonlight finally fell over the sky, leaving you alone in the room just working on some last details on the first demo of your song. Your concentration and focus was broken by three soft knocks on the oak door, and soon a creak came, revealing Marshall.

— Alone? Even your team doesn't support you anymore? — Eminem asked in an ironic tone, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

The rapper's voice made you shiver with anger, turning your head slowly towards him with an irritated expression and a raised eyebrow. —What the fuck do you want? Isn't it enough to piss me off at the entire VMAs now here too? — You responded with a grunt, removing your headphones as you stood up from his chair.

The rapper's teasing laugh drifted through the studio, stepping forward towards you.

—Are you angry? Did you forget that this is my building and you are inside one of my studios? Or didn't your team tell you that? — The boy responded with the same intensity, his eyes burning your skin.

Your ego was being hurt in that indirect fight, so your pride spoke over you.

You also took a step forward and crossed your arms, looking up at him in an intense gaze.

— I don't care if this studio is yours or not, you've been bothering me all day, are you lacking attention or what? — Your posture was confident, maintaining her eye contact with him.

Only a smirk left Eminem's lips, as he curved his body slightly towards him with his pupils dilated.

— If I managed to make you angry, it's because I caught your attention, right? — He replied, with a quick attack in a mocking and slightly rude tone. Your eyes widened and a small blush formed on yor cheeks, taking a step back slowly, which made the boy's ego even bigger.

— What is that? Where's all that courage you had until now? — He asked, taking another step forward and closing the space between you.

You couldn't deny it, he wasn't ugly, he never was, but his words made you very angry... but that anger was mixing with a kind of desire, a desire that you could see in his eyes.

And Marshall noticed this, with a confident and arrogant smile on his lips, he put his hand on her waist and gently brought her closer. Bringing your face closer. Your mind screamed for you to stop, but you couldn't deny the chemistry going on between the two of you, his blue eyes were like a magnet of attraction, the more you looked, the more you wanted. And then, her face slowly approached his, closing the space of centimeters between them in a fiery kiss, hot and full of desire, desire and anger, her arms entwined around his neck while Marshall's hands caressed her waist and went down to her breasts, caressing the spot as he deepened the kiss. Your hands scratched his back lightly as you murmured between the kiss:

— I fucking hate you.

[antianakin]

Antianakin's Second Anti-Anakin/Pro-Jedi Fic Rec List

Same general idea as the first one, this rec list is dedicated to fics that are critical of Anakin Skywalker. That can mean anything from just emphasizing that the Jedi's philosophies are right even if it means Anakin is wrong, to killing Anakin off in the most gruesome (and probably cathartic) way possible as a consequence for his choices. Since I know there are differing levels of feelings towards Anakin in the people that follow me, I'm going to add in some new helpful terms and redefine the categories slightly. Please note that these are MY personal interpretations of the fics, not the authors' stated intentions.

Helpful terms:

Unfinished - Any fic that is marked as incomplete, or a series where the fic(s) in it are still incomplete and cannot stand alone.

Ongoing - Any series marked as incomplete, but the fics in it are marked as complete or can stand alone as they are.

Critical - The fic critiques Anakin's philosophies and choices, but allows for more sympathy towards his character and situation should the reader desire it.

Anti - The fic specifically presents Anakin in a very negative way without any sympathy for him or his choices.

Anakin/Consequences: Anakin experiences consequences for his actions, but does not die. These fics can be anywhere between "critical" to fully "anti" depending on the author's take.

Spoiler Alert, He Doesn't Make It: Anakin experiences the specific consequence of dying. These fics will likely all fall under the definition of "anti" as opposed to just "critical."

The Galaxy Deserved Better: Focus of the story is more on characters' reactions to Anakin's choices or using other characters and their relationships to critique Anakin's choices in canon. None of these fics will be "anti" Anakin probably, since the critique of Anakin is at best a catalyst for the rest of the story.

I've had people ask me how to FIND more anti-Anakin fics, so here's my tips:

Look at your favorite authors' bookmarks. If you like something someone wrote, chances are they like reading the same stuff you do.

There's always the option of looking into tags, but I've found that very few people actually use "anti" tags on fanfiction, so your best bet is to look into pro Jedi/Jedi appreciation tags as much as possible, and the ones that are truly pro Jedi are often also critical of Anakin simply by design (if he shows up at all).

A lot of these fics take things like the Tusken massacre, Order 66, and Anakin's treatment of Padme, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and the clones very seriously. Please take that as a warning if any of those things might be triggering, and keep an eye on the tags for all of the fics included here just in case.

There is no specific order to this. I tried to group fics from one specific author together, but other than that, I didn't place anything in any specific position for a reason.

This is not an exhaustive list of good anti-Anakin fics that exist, obviously. If your fic or your favorite fic isn't on this list, please feel free to rec it yourself in the notes, leave a reply or reblog with a link. I'm happy to read more anti-Anakin fic, especially if it's very Pro-Jedi!

One final reminder: NOTHING IN THIS LIST IS ANAKIN FRIENDLY! That means it's likely not going to be friendly to Anakin specific ships either, particularly Obikin and Anidala. If that's going to bother you to read, please just skip this entire list, it's not for you.

Anakin/Consequences

Blood-born Memories by Siderea (anti, 725):

Quinlan touches Obi-Wan's robe after his "assassination" by Rako Hardeen and ends up picking up some memories and emotions from Anakin that give him some heart-breaking revelations about Anakin's true nature.

Technically this one ends just before any real consequences and so the consequences are more implied, but I love the way Quinlan reacts to the revelations he has in this fic. Quinlan is so obviously horrified by it and heartbroken on Obi-Wan's behalf, but also strong enough as a Jedi to know what he needs to do now. He's already grieving his friend, but he has to set all of that aside to deal with this now more important issue. This fic is supremely unlikely to ever get any follow-up, but thinking about how Obi-Wan would deal with this development upon coming back from his stint undercover is delightfully angsty.

Malfunctions & Mutiny by BitterChocolateStars (anti, 6k):

Obi-Wan loses on Mustafar, but Anakin takes him prisoner and proceeds to kill Palpatine and make Padme Empress. He puts Cody in charge of guarding Obi-Wan, and one day Cody's chip breaks when Anakin tortures Obi-Wan. Cody starts working on an escape plan for everyone, Jedi and clone alike.

The nice thing about fics post Order 66 from clone perspectives is that Anakin tends to be represented as an unforgivable monster and little else. Cody's priority is saving everybody he can and getting them as far away as possible, so he's not interested in trying to understand or sympathize with Anakin when it doesn't serve his purposes. One of the things I really like in this fic is the way we see Rex and Ahsoka react to the revelation of Anakin's betrayal. Ahsoka takes it a lot better than she does in canon, but we get a nice sort-of outsider perspective of Rex struggling with believing it until he doesn't have any other choice and the way this impacts his relationship with Cody.

The Temple vs Order 66 by LauraBWrites (anti, 4k):

The Temple has become semi-sentient over the years and starts preparing to protect the Jedi in the eventuality that Anakin Skywalker fails.

The Temple itself being a character is really fun, and I quite loved the way it was almost arguing with the Force about Anakin and how to handle the growing darkness in him and the galaxy. I also really appreciated that, while Padme ultimately leaves Anakin behind, her selfish choices during the war aren't swept under the rug, either. I liked that it insists that Anakin is taken care of and not just left to rot, but that whether he gets better or not remains up to him. It doesn't matter how much therapy he's given by the Jedi, he has to choose to accept the help or it won't work.

For want of a horse, the rider was lost by LacieFuyu (critical, 19k):

Anakin doesn't get left in the dark about the Rako Hardeen mission and it goes disastrously as a result. Everyone has to live with the consequences of that choice.

This one takes place within the Rako Hardeen arc, but it does deal with the revelation of the Tusken Massacre and the Anidala marriage as well. There are a lot of truths being thrown at Anakin in this particular fic by the people around him who start to discover more of what he's done and who he truly is, most of whom choose not to sugarcoat anything for him. Several of the characters choose not to forgive Anakin for what he's done, even as some of them continue to work to help him figure out how to heal and get better. There is hope left for him at the end, but the consequences for him in this feel very real and substantial, it goes far beyond Anakin just having to live with what he's done. He loses a lot of the people he cared about, he loses certain privileges and ranks, and they leave open the possibility that he might have to face a pretty serious consequence for the Tusken Massacre from the Tuskens themselves. So while it's sympathetic, it takes Anakin's choices seriously, which I appreciate. I also liked seeing some of the ways other characters were dealing with their own pain and betrayal, the ways they were taking comfort from Jedi teachings and loved ones to heal in a more healthy way.

Spoiler Alert, He Doesn't Make It

here on the edge of silence, half afraid by Siderea (anti, 4k):

Pirate/Mer AU where Fox and the Guard work on Palpatine and Anakin's ship and Fox manages to kill Palpatine, causing Anakin to throw him overboard only for Mer!Obi-Wan to save him.

I like the development of Fox and Obi-Wan's relationship in this one, from some very understandable mistrust to attraction and the beginnings of a friendship. The glimpses we get into a wider world and a rebellion of sorts and how Obi-Wan being a merman fits into the Jedi still existing and fighting alongside the clones under Palpatine are SO tantalizing. Fox's opinion of Anakin is immensely low and Obi-Wan himself is far enough along from whatever betrayal Anakin committed in this AU that he is able to criticize Anakin's behavior and obsessions with people. Anakin never actually appears in this fic, he remains a far-away obstacle to be removed, and I love that for him.

The Galaxy Deserved Better:

Ahsoka is Mace's Padawan series by SkyeBean (ongoing, anti, 442k):

The title of the series speaks for itself for the most part, but this is an AU where Mace chooses Ahsoka to be his Padawan around a year prior to AOTC and it follows the various consequences of that change both to Ahsoka herself and to the galaxy at large. The first fic goes all the way through the end of the Clone Wars, but other fics in the series continue beyond that to at least the end of ROTJ and explore the impact of the Empire on the Jedi as they struggle to survive.

I made an entire separate post strictly about this series because it basically changed my brain chemistry for the week it took me to get through everything, and I know several other people have recc'd it in various lists, but I'm putting it here again for anyone who hasn't yet seen it because it's just that good and that worth it. This fic understands how to make Ahsoka develop and mature without making her some angel or goddess of light without flaws. It is BREATHTAKINGLY pro Jedi and especially pro Mace Windu. There's some really great exploration of Ahsoka's relationship to the clones both before and after Order 66 as well a lot of delightful diversity in her relationships to other Jedi. This fic does not pull punches with regards to Anakin, Padme, and Anidala, or the consequences of their choices. If you were disappointed in how the Ahsoka show treated her reaction to Anakin and his atrocities, this fic is the OPPOSITE of that.

After the War (Part the First) by KChan88 (critical, 7k):

Instead of Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda choose Quinlan to be the one who goes undercover during the Rako Hardeen arc. Obi-Wan, who has been in an off and on relationship with Quinlan since they were teenagers, reacts to the loss.

This is actually incredibly positive towards Anakin, but I'm leaving it in here as "critical" because pretty much any fic that has someone else reacting to the Rako Hardeen act is sort-of critical of Anakin's canon behavior by design, and the underlying issues that ultimately lead him to darkness. Obi-Wan reacts like a Jedi should, letting go when he believes Quinlan to be dead, and understanding when he has to face Quinlan after he knows it was a lie even as he is still angry at the circumstances putting Quinlan in that position in the first place (not the JEDI, just the war and the way it's forcing the Jedi to run themselves ragged and put themselves through the wringer). That anger gets acknowledged and accepted and Obi-Wan and Quinlan are shown to have an incredibly healthy relationship with each other that's incredibly sweet.

After the War (Part the Second) by KChan88 (critical, 6k):

Quinlan manages to catch up to Obi-Wan during his confrontation with Anakin during the Obi-Wan Kenobi show and the two have a reunion after things settle down on Tatooine.

Part of the same series as the above, this one lands more sympathetic towards Anakin than positive, since it's set post Order 66 and, for obvious reasons, it's pretty hard to be positive about what Anakin's done and what he's chosen to be at this point. But it's not unsympathetic, both Obi-Wan and Quinlan remember good times with Anakin, Obi-Wan has a line about having felt some kind of light in him during that last conversation they have in the show, and Quinlan makes comparisons to Anakin sounding like a scared and lonely little boy. So the critical aspect of it is relatively soft and minimal aside from the obvious references to his betrayal. Much like the fic above, I really love the way Obi-Wan and Quinlan's relationship is represented and the dynamic they have with each other.

Meet in the Middle by BilbosMom (critical, 9k):

Baby Luke and Leia are working on some Force shenanigans to try to find a way to speak to each other through a middle ground within the Force, but have trouble getting to each other on their own and end up recruiting Rex and Obi-Wan to help them.

This one is also pretty positive about Anakin in that it talks a lot about how Luke and Leia are going to save him by reminding him of how to love and things like that. I'm leaving it in here because it is also set post Order 66 and does reckon with the impact of that, especially on Rex who is finding out this betrayal for the first time, so it's hard not to end up at least a little critical just naturally. Anakin has done some particularly heinous shit and is still DOING some heinous shit. That remains true whether he can be saved in the future or not, whether he used to know how to love selflessly or not. I particularly like the structure in this one, the way it bounces back and forth between Obi-Wan's perspective with Leia and Rex's perspective with Luke. I like the way that Luke and Leia land sort-of wiser than their years due to their stronger connection to the Force but also still very much children who get impatient and annoyed with the adults around them.

scraps series by grumpyhedgehogs (critical, 9.5k):

Cody's chip fails when Obi-Wan dies on the Death Star and he goes searching for Rex and the Rebellion. He deals with his grief and guilt along the way.

Cody isn't Anakin's biggest fan, obviously, but both he and Rex acknowledge that Anakin USED to be a better person. The focus of the story is on Cody's relationship with Obi-Wan and how, even after he's died, that relationship still helps Cody move forward from his grief and find some measure of peace. I like the way Cody, Rex, and Ahsoka all connect over the different ways Obi-Wan had meant something to them and the ways he impacted their lives.

may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories (critical, 2.5k):

Leia reflects on her relationship to Bail Organa and the impact of his loss in the years after ROTJ.

Leia is also not Anakin Skywalker's biggest fan and dislikes that she inherited anything from him. I appreciated that Leia never forgave him in this. Even in the moment where she claims to wish he showed up, it's so she can rage at him for being the reason she ISN'T Bail Organa's daughter instead. It's a heart-wrenching story and dive into Leia's character, the ways her life at constant war have defined her as well as her experience as an adopted child who wanted nothing more than to have something physical to connect her to the family she loved and to make them proud. Mon Mothma saying Leia reminded her of Bail about made me cry.

Thank the Gods, I'm Not Alone by BitterChocolateStars (critical, 16k):

Obi-Wan and Rex from ten years post Order 66 both get sent back in time to the Clone Wars and work together to make sure it doesn't happen a second time.

Since Obi-Wan and Rex are primarily dealing with an Anakin who HASN'T betrayed the Jedi and the clones yet (depending on whether you count his marriage to Padme and his murder of the Tuskens a betrayal of the Jedi or not), they both have to figure out how to forgive this version of him that hasn't committed the crime they're angry about yet. He's the same person who DID go down that path before, but circumstances change enough to make different choices this time around. I appreciated the acknowledgment that it's okay to choose not to forgive the version of Anakin that DID make those choices, even as they recognize that it's not fair to hold this version of Anakin accountable for things he didn't do.

Gentle Welcome by Miandraden1 (critical, 1k):

Short and soft post-Rako Hardeen one shot where Obi-Wan reflects on Anakin's reaction to his stint undercover but gains comfort from the people who understand.

I love Obi-Wan discussing his worries about Anakin with Mace, it's such a nice call back to AOTC where he was more explicitly pushing back against the Council's decisions and had less faith in Anakin, whereas here he's so clearly trying to continue to have faith in Anakin's ability to grow and learn, even as he can tell Anakin's struggling. There's no lack of acknowledgment of Anakin's continued struggles, but there is a choice to continue to believe in him. I love how sweet the clones are in how they react to the Rako Hardeen deception, in some ways this is just another Tuesday for them, but Waxer explicitly leaving Obi-Wan a little gift he knows he'll like says something slightly different and it's adorable.

The Temple of Hope series by Zarz (ongoing, critical, 93k):

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and their battalions stumble across a very old Jedi Temple that reveals certain truths about both the Jedi and the clones and changes everything.

This one is also mostly about just forcing Anakin to face his own truths and fears while everybody else gets to make their way to a happy fix-it AU as a result. One of the tags on the first fic is "anakin skywalker faces consequences" but the primary consequence is just Anakin feeling bad about what he's done more than anything else. It's overall a sweet, soft, Force-sensitive Clones!AU with a lot of pro Jedi vibes to it.

"... if you remain his student" by Peppermint_Shamrock (critical, 4k):

The Wrong Jedi arc doesn't happen which leaves Ahsoka at the Temple during Order 66 and she was never going to be enough to save or stop Anakin.

To be perfectly honest at this point, this is the ending I'd have wanted for Ahsoka. It wouldn't have been able to happen in canon given she's not in ROTS, but like... this is probably one of the most impactful ways for her story to have ended (and one of the kindest, given how shitty her character has become). I love the way this fic insists that Ahsoka isn't enough, any more than Padme or Obi-Wan were, he'd have cut her down the same he did the others, no matter what he might have felt for her once or what she believed he felt for her.

Reversi by LacieFuyu (critical, 2.5k):

Anakin and Obi-Wan's roles are reversed in the Rako Hardeen arc and Anakin is startled by everyone's reactions to his deception.

This is yet another one that is critical by comparison to canon. Even Anakin himself acknowledges by the end of the fic that he's pretty sure he wouldn't be reacting this compassionately and calmly and reasonably if their positions were reversed, something we know to be true. There's also a small moment where Anakin begins to doubt his choices regarding the Tusken Massacre, but instead of actually reflecting on it, he buries the feeling all over again and chooses to learn nothing. It's very in character for Anakin.

[octoberautumnbox]

a cute date with seoyeon! :D

Hold Me Closer

tripleS Yoon Seoyeon & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff basically, nothing too crazy in this one

Word count: 0.7k

| Part 1 || Part 2 (coming soon hopefully lmao) ||

a/n: i owe u this for that belle fic i think LMAO also gonna follow this up eventually obvs

~~~

In between bites, Seoyeon reaches across the table to hold your hand. “I'm glad you got to come out, babe,” she says with half a mouthful of mint chocolate ice cream. “I know you're still tired from the week.” 

“Psh, as if I'd rather laze around at home alone than be here with you.” You know that line is corny, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. It's worth every meeting, every deadline, every performance audit to hold her hand on the way home from a nice night out with Yoon Seoyeon. 

As if on cue, she giggles at your reply, “Alright, but I wanna stay over for the rest of the weekend. You deserve to laze around at home, so let me look after you, ‘kay?” You have a feeling it isn't up for debate, so you just accept her offer. “Thanks, baby. I do need the rest.”

"I told you to just let me carry the bags. I'm strong! See?" She flexes her muscles to show you just how strong she is, but with the most adorable face you've ever seen getting puffy trying to look intimidating, it only undermines her point.

On the other hand, the seven shopping bags taking up the rest of the seats in the booth do look heavy now that you see all of them, and it doesn't help that you know what exactly is inside of each one. On the other hand, you do know that Seoyeon is actually strong and can take more than just any average girl.

Just then, her phone vibrates, and as her eyes scan over the screen, a different kind of smile graces her cheeks. “Lookie, me and Naky look so good in this one.” She shows you a video of her and Nakyoung in the practice room rehearsing a sexy kind of dance, “She does that thing with her hand that I like here. You know, that thing you do to me?”

From her arm around Seoyeon’s shoulder, Nakyoung's hand travels to the back of her neck and pulls your girlfriend in until they're face-to-face. It's the same look in her eye that Seoyeon has when you get under the covers with her–anticipating something she can't possibly predict. Her lips part ever so slightly right in front of Nakyoung's, and neither of them are wise to notice.

“Am I supposed to be jealous? What's up with that?” you ask, eyebrow raised, smirk on your lips, and tone filled with sarcasm as best as you can to hide real doubt. As the video plays on and Nakyoung's hands reach more and more of your girlfriend's body, you feel a strange and gross kind of heat rising in your chest.

“Nah, if anything, I have to keep her away from you. She said she likes you too.” The video ends and Seoyeon finally puts her phone away. “I'm honestly nervous she'd be able to steal you away from me.”

“No way in hell, babe. You know why?” 

“Because you don't have time to cheat?” Her answer makes you chuckle, the apparent honesty even more so. 

“Besides that.”

“Uhh, no idea.”

“Simple. She's not you.” Wrap your fingers around her free hand again, make sure she feels secure. Nobody should ever have that sort of doubt when it comes to love, especially not your Seoyeon. 

“Thanks, babe. I love you,” she says, relieved, and with mint chocolate smeared all over her top lip. She tries letting go to grab a napkin, but you beat her to it, lean over the table and give her a peck instead. 

“You're lucky you're cute. Mint chocolate, I swear to God…”

“Oh, shut up. And I still haven't gotten my ‘I love you too.’”

You win some, you lose some, and sometimes you're not sure. Whatever this is, though, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I love you too, Seoyeon.”

And of course she picks this moment to tease you. A mischievous smirk puffs against her cheeks, "Mmm, not good enough," before she finally finished her waffle cone.

"What then?" You finish yours too and crumple the wrapper along with hers.

"Secret. I'll tell you tonight. I take care of you, you take care of me." She fires off a wink and bolts out of the booth, taking with her two and a half shopping bags. Her classic "chase me," her own special trademark "I love you" that only she could ever tell you in this way.

Frantically gathering the rest of the shopping bags she left behind, you stumble out of the booth after her, the only proper "I love you too."

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 (coming soon) ||

[four2andnew]

Canon Couples and the Random Heights I Assigned Them

Just because I recently re-read this post and it's on my mind. Here's what I think these canon couples' final heights came to be and some justifications behind my thought process, as well as some headcanons. Let's start with my OTP -

Harry (6'1") and Ginny (5'0")

I'm kinda obsessed with the idea that 17yo Harry being the same height as his 21yo deceased father would grow just a couple more inches

Ginny being 5ft fits with her being the noticeably "smallest one" in the DoM during OOTP and with Harry being able to easily look over her head during the infamous First Kiss scene in HBP, putting her head at chest height of Harry (as of HBP)

Ginny is the only one who knows about Harry's petty satisfaction when he ran into Draco Malfoy some years after the war and realized he had continued to grow and Malfoy hadn't

James (5'11") and Lily (5'8")

Because they're both tall enough to be considered "tall", but not the kind of tall that is shocking

Lily being 5'8" makes her tall enough to have to look down at 14yo Harry in the graveyard scene of GOF

Ron (6'5") and Hermione (5'8")

In order for Fred and George to be "shorter and stockier" than 14yo Ron, but still slightly over 6ft so as to shrink to 5'11" in DH, I have to assume Ron's final height came to be one that most people would put in the "Holy shit you're tall" category

I know I'm going to get shouted at for Hermione's height, because she's never described as particularly tall in the books HOWEVER she's never described as particularly short either, just shorter than Harry

This 9 inch height difference give Ron & Hermione the perfect height difference for Ron to comfortably rest his chin on her head without having to hunch over awkwardly like Harry does with Ginny, so I'm sticking to it

Arthur (5'11") and Molly (4'11")

I know the movies made Arthur short and round, but he was described as thin in the books and all the Weasley boys wind up being pretty tall, so they had to get that from somewhere.

Molly is consistently described as short and dumpy throughout the series, and while Ginny is often compared to Molly physically, I just like the idea that Ginny managed to grow that extra inch that Molly never did.

Draco (6'0") and Astoria (5'11")

we know in DH Draco was slightly taller than Harry at the Malfoy Manor scene (p.457, U.S. edition of DH), so if we assume the like linked post above that Harry was 5'11" during DH, then I'd put Draco at 6 foot.

we literally know nothing about Astoria (CC doesn't count), but I picked 5'11" because it is the curse of all tall women to wind up with men roughly the same height

Lucius (5'10") and Narcissa (5'10")

we know Harry and Narcissa are the same height in HBP, so I put her at 5'10"

correct me if I'm wrong, but Lucius is never described as particularly tall, while Narcissa is. And of course, tall for a woman is average for a man. I put Lucius to be around around the same height as Narcissa because I just don't see Lucius' personality allowing him to be with a woman taller than himself.

also, see the curse of tall women above

[mythicalartistx]

I know now without a doubt Kingdom Hearts is L—

No actually I think Kingdom Hearts is honestly purposely censored.

I used to be like well I don't think it's inherently the translators faults, Japanese is a tough language for people to know what it's referring to and likes to Americanized certain things like adding heteronormativity and romanizing things. People like romanticizing thingz so I can't exactly blame them it's part of westerners.

Like when you think of relationships most think of straight relationships so that probably what they thought of it's probably about even though the relationship doesn't really develop that much.

A lot of Action movies have the same problem when there is a male main character, there is always a forced romance with some side girl character when it's not a developed or good relationship it's just there to mark of the love interest category.

But now realizing how much Kingdom Hearts censors things, maybe they had an idea.

Some lines are WAY off from the original made to romanticized so much when the original wasn't even anything remotely like that or about a character in that way. And some scenes take out movements and edit it.

They change the entire meaning to censor things for American Audiences.

Nobody knows why.

And all I can think of is to make it have things that American Audiences would rather enjoy having romance in places unnecessarily or censoring things to be "safe"

I made a post about the Dream Drop Distance scene which gotten a crazy amount of attention only on the first few days it's at 300+notes, but the post was essentially about how when Sora was sleeping he tells Donald and Goofy it's his job to keep him on his toes and he puts his arm down in a fist. Then Riku moved his arm slightly to the left and put it in a fist again?

But the scene actually had Riku telling Donald and Goofy how he slapped Sora awake whenever he fell asleep on the beach and it shows Riku moving his hand in a slapping motion, not whatever that awkward motion was.

The thing is DDD was one of the side games and I thought they didn't pay much attention to the censoring in those. And given how gay DDD is and it wasn't as censoring their dynamic.

However, it got censored and it's like why? Did they think Audiences couldn't handle it?

Like it just seems like a silly thing he would do. It's kinda like how some people would pour water on someone to wake them up.

Like a teasing thing which he does A LOT and it probably wasn't that hard.

And other times I heard about how the language had some swearing or words that could be translated that way but of course since it's Disney the western version had to censor that.

The novels and manga actually still have more language in it.

And I think the main problem is Disney. They censor things a lot now.

They used to be more open to this kind of thing, but now they are soft and never take risks. I also heard how their team would edit things that would be in their original movie to tone it down for KH players.

It's kinda sad because there is definitely a lot of meaning to KH that is lost in translation. The battle with Vanitas is one in particular I had realized it's meaning is a bit more than the western version. The western version also simplifies things and tries to condense aspects as well. Xehanort's reason for everything is also worded very differently in the western version.

One of the reasons I look at fan translations is because it gives more meaning to certain events, not only because of dynamics and possible ships that are lost, but also explanations that are no longer there.

I'm so grateful for everyone who tries to retranslate things accurately and sometimes I use a site for certain things I'm curious but by no means do I speak their language and I get translation is hard, I really hope their future installments don't do this especially with KH4 and ML coming up in the next several years.

[fairydustblossom]

tied to you

azriel x reader

summary: yours and azriels friendship is strained, but azriel can't seem to keep away from you

category: angst, mutual-pinning, fluff

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none i think lol

notes: hey y'all i know i disappeared for a bit i promise i will update losing control but i just hadn't felt any inspo and my brain kept coming up with different fic ideas lol, anyways wrote this one and i quite like it ◡̈ lmk what y'all think! and remember request are open! i won't necessarily get to them immediately but i will at some point!! enjoy!

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“Why don't you like me anymore?” a deep voice asked. You jumped in your seat, dropping the pen you were writing with, ink splashing all over your paper. You hadn’t heard the owner of the voice approach you, having been consumed by your work in the deep aisles of the library. 

At the sound of his voice, your inner alert senses started going off. Immediately you were overcome with the urge to flee, the same feeling you had often felt in his presence as of late. If you didn’t leave now, your heart would hurt. The longing within you would surface if you didn’t find a way out. However, you looked up, glancing at the intruder. The room you were in had darkened, the faeligths around you dimmed, as if the light was fighting to be seen. That was the power he had. To walk into a room and the sheer strength of his power bend the will of light, surrendering to the darkness he commanded. There he was, sitting across from you and you could feel yourself wanting to do the same. Wanting to succumb to him, give all of you to the darkness that was part of him and never surface again.

Fighting back the urge to roll your eyes, you met his unrelenting stare and sighed. This again. Recently, he had started noticing the distance you had put between you and him and he had started trying to catch your attention, to get you to speak to him, anything to get you to interact with him.

"Azriel you know I like you, we are family" you replied, glancing up at him for a breath only to continue your work.

His cheeks were slightly flushed. You hadn’t seen it, but he had winced when he startled you enough to ruin the paper you were writing on. He didn’t intend for his question to come out so bluntly. He already felt mortified at approaching you with this question, but he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but notice how you never interacted with him anymore. Couldn’t help but notice how anytime he tried speaking with you, you would find a way to get out of the conversation. How you would leave a room when he walked in, and if you had to stay in the room, how you would simply ignore his existence. 

He remembered a time when you would smile at him every time he walked into a room. How you unabashedly talked to him, unphased by his quiet demeanor. How you would seek him out in meetings, at parties, during missions. How could he not notice the change? At first he thought you were maybe going through something and needed some space. But your behavior towards the rest of your family hadn’t changed, you had only changed your behavior towards him. Azriel couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much. It was eating him alive, not knowing what he did wrong. How had he managed to push away his dearest friend? 

He took you in, eyes narrowing at your response. He expected you to tell him honestly, to not so casually lie to his face, as if he didn’t know when you were being dishonest.

"You know Y/N, I’m used to being disliked,, and normally I wouldn’t care.. but... we used to be friends. At least I thought we were." Even though he tried, he couldn’t fully keep the bitterness from his words.

"We... we are friends Azriel" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could tell Azriel was irritated, but you refused to let him get to you. You had vowed to yourself to remain strong in your decision to keep your distance from Azriel. For years, you had longed for your friendship to grow into something more. For years you had been complacent, satisfied in having any part of him that you could. Pushing aside the feelings you harbored for the Shadowsinger, grateful that you could be such a close friend, never asking for more. 

He shook his head at your response, narrowing his eyes further and standing his ground. "No we aren't. I know how you treat your friends and you dont treat me like that anymore." 

You looked back down to your papers, opting not to respond. You knew Azriel and you knew anything you said he would counteract with his own reasoning. And the truth was that you had distanced yourself, and you didn't really consider Azriel a friend anymore. You had painfully said goodbye to that friendship that you cherished so dearly. It had taken you a long time to accept that Azriel would never be yours. You had finally come to terms with the fact that remaining friends was too painful. So you had decided to end the friendship.

No, you never had a conversation about it with him, but you didn’t think he would care. He never seemed to care. At least you thought that, until now.

Your  silence hurt him more than he expected. A feeling of dread was creeping up on him. At that moment, Azriel decided the most important thing in the world was to gain back your friendship. The loss of it suddenly unbearable. He could undoubtedly see the emptiness it had left in  his life. 

"Y/N, did I do something?" he managed to keep his voice steady but he was ready to drop to his knees and plead for your forgiveness, whatever he had done. 

You snapped your book shut and stood up looking down at him now.

"No Az, you haven't done anything. Really, I’ve just been busy" you shot him a tight smile, and turned around walking away from the conversation. 

Azriel stood up, about to follow you but the pit in his stomach, the feeling of rejection, and how easily you dismissed him, left him standing in place.

A few days later, Azriel had come back to the library. He had, at one point, seated himself  in the chair across from you. 

He was intent on getting you to acknowledge him. Even if it was only you asking him to go away. He figured you would say something about him there; however, you said nothing to him. You had only looked at him once, when you first realized he was there. The rest of the time, you just sat silently, working on whatever Rhys had asked of you. At first, his presence made your entire body tense up and it was hard to concentrate on your work, but refused to give in. You knew he was just trying to provoke you. Still, Azriel just sat there doing his own work. After a few hours of silence, realizing Azriel wasn’t going to bring up your strained friendship again, you were able to relax. His presence became comforting, something you had not felt in a long time.

Azriel’s calming presence had been one of the first things that drew you to him. He had never been a man of many words but you had always found solace in him. A consistent, safe space for you. 

You had mourned the loss of that space, and you were weary of letting yourself fall back into old habits, but you decided to indulge yourself. One time wouldn't ruin all the hard work you had put into coping with the distance. So you let yourself bask in his silence, your mind losing itself in your work. 

Azriel on the other hand couldn't really calm down. Joy filled him with being able to sit next to you. He kept wracking his brain for something to say but kept deciding against it. He was terrified of feeling what he had felt the other day, determined to  never  feel rejected by you again. He decided he would be content with just sitting next to you in silence. 

The intensity with which he  realized  how much he had missed the warmth you radiated, after getting it back today, took him by surprise. He mentally made plans to seek you out whenever he needed to do paperwork. If you let him sit next to you he would be happy with that. 

When you got to a good stopping point, you decided to leave. Everything in you begged you to stay longer, to talk to him, to touch him, but you fought against it. You would not let yourself go back to being at his disposal. 

Azriel continued showing up to the library whenever he needed to do work. His heart would quicken anytime he set his eyes on you, tucked away in your corner. He refrained from talking, fear seizing his heart that talking would break this delicate companionship. He also started showing up to training at the same time as you, even if the sweat glistening down your body made it impossible to actually train and he had to do two sessions a day. He felt consumed by thoughts of you, he craved you.  

When Azriel started showing up to your training hours, your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. You had purposely changed your schedule to avoid training with him, it had become unbearable. Now, you were back in the same predicament. Worry filled you, it felt like you were losing control of the situation and Azriel was slowly trickling back into every aspect of your life. But you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in you every time you saw him, fully aware that what he seeked was your company. It also helped that he looked incredibly breathtaking while training. The sight of his shirtless torso one that you had missed. The tattoos that adorned his defined muscles, and the power he radiated while practicing his skills, made your knees want to buckle. 

He didn't really know if you found it annoying that he was forcing himself back into your life. You wouldn't let much show and he couldn’t decipher how you were feeling. He wasn't used to that. He used to be able to read you so easily, whatever you were feeling so plainly written on your face. The past weeks had felt like he was getting to know you all over again, like he had to earn those smiles back that so easily had come before. Azriel understood now that he had taken you for granted, and he was ready to do just about anything he could to get you back. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the end of the fourth week of this new silent dance between you and Azriel, you found yourself somehow sitting next to him in a circled booth at Ritas. Conversation flowed between your friends, but you stayed quiet, the feeling of Azriel’s body pressed against you overwhelming your thoughts. His muscular body radiated warmth and you could feel yourself leaning into him in your drunken state. You sat up straighter when you realized what you were doing, looking around the booth hoping none of your friends had noticed. They hadn’t, all too busy in their own worlds to notice anything. 

Azriel turned his gaze to look down at you, you seemed to be looking at everything but him. He took in how your exposed thigh was pressed against his covered one, and he thought for a fleeting second that he shouldn’t have worn pants tonight if it meant he would have been able to feel your bare skin against his. He had felt you sinking into him and then quickly sitting up and fought the urge to pull you into him again. He wanted you closer to him. He wanted you.

The alcohol running through him gave him the courage to bump you with his shoulder to get your attention. Your head turned to look at him and your eyes met his hazel ones. You were mesmerized. It seemed his eyes were glowing in the night club, specks of gold beckoning you in deeper. His shadows creeped up around you both as you continued to stare into each other's eyes. He leaned down, and your heart skipped a beat, for a brief second you thought he was going to kiss you. But instead of your lips, his lips brushed the side of your ear. You felt silly, why would he kiss you? Rather than shame filling you, heat creeped up, your breath hitching in your throat when you felt his own on your neck. 

“So, are you going to tell me why you stopped being my friend?” He asked against your ear, deep voice gruff with the drinking of the night. He leaned back and looked at you intently, waiting for your answer. 

"Come on Azzie, you know better than to ask questions like that" you replied with half shut lidded eyes and a shake of your head, a soft smile etched on your face.

His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used to call him, only in private moments. And your smile. That soft barely there smile was the realest smile you had given him in months. He wanted more of it. He wanted that smile aimed at him every day. The fervor of his need left him breathless and it took everything in him not to grab your face and kiss you until all you could say was his name.

He licked his lips and said in a low voice, "You forget interrogation is part of my job description. I ask whatever I want, and I always get answers"

You couldn't fight off the heat creeping up your cheeks. His voice, gods, his voice did things to you. Especially when it was just meant for you to hear it. You let out a sigh, a deflated sigh. You recognized the need rising within you to have him. And every reminder that you never would made you feel heavy and defeated. 

"I don't understand why you wanna know so bad" you whispered, averting your gaze, only to be met by a thick cloud of shadows. 

"I care about you" he replied, his hand tentatively reaching up to turn your face back to him. He barely touched you, scared of spooking you, but when he did, he felt a spark shoot up his arm and he swore he could feel it crawling its way up to his chest. However, the slight frown on your face hinted to him that he had said the wrong thing. 

"Azriel, it's been months. I don't think you cared about me until this past month. And you and I both know the only reason you suddenly care is because Elain finally gave Lucien a chance and is not giving you any attention anymore."

The sharpness in your words took him aback and he looked away.  And the mention of Elain made his cheeks flush . His shadows scattered away form you and were mostly surrounding their master now. He felt embarrassed at how he had behaved the past year, knowing full well Elain had a mate. It was a sore subject, and he hadn’t expected you to throw it back in his face like that. But your words weren't exactly accurate. Yes, he had noticed the distance between you only recently, and some of that did have to do with not being around Elain as much anymore, but he had always cared for you. How could you think otherwise? 

He couldn't deny that something was drawing him to you more than ever and he didn't know what to say back to you. The lightness in your conversation, verging on the edge of flirtiness had dissipated. He could feel your unrelenting stare on the side of his face and could feel your annoyance growing  by the second. 

"I've always cared about you" he finally said, mustering the courage to look you in the eyes again. He forced himself to look at you and read the dislike you held for him on your face. The look you gave him now is what he had been wanting this past month. Every time he sat next to you, every time he invaded your space he wanted you to look at him this way, to prove that he wasn't making it up, to prove that he was right in thinking you didn't like him anymore. But now that he saw it, he felt small. He felt that he had done something to ruin the friendship he had grown to fiercely need in his life again. 

You couldn't fight the roll of your eyes and the scoff that came out of you at his words. The alcohol making you lose the grace with which you had handled Azriel the last few weeks. You stood up and walked away, the words "Not in the way I've cared about you" at the tip of your tongue. Trying to lose yourself in the crowd you quickly made your way through, fighting off the tears building up. The past month had just been too much. You had promised yourself that you would not be in this position again. That you wouldn't cry over Azriel again. 

You stepped out of Ritas into the cold fresh air and let out an exasperated laugh, tears falling from your eyes now. You felt a madness creeping up within you, the feeling of being trapped, always tied to Azriel  consuming you.

You leaned against a wall and looked up at the night sky, laughing at yourself.Only a few minutes had passed before you felt him coming near you. The look you shot him made him stop abruptly. Something in his chest broke at seeing you in such a state. Your makeup was smudged around your bloodshot eyes, tear marks running down your face. 

You had stopped crying and now you just stared at him with a deadpan look. Why were you crying? He was so confused. He furrowed his brows. Were you crying over him? 

He didn't know if it was the liquor running through his veins that gave him the boldness  to step closer to you, or if it was simply the need within him to feel your body pressed against his. The desire overtaking his body to be sharing each other's space. But he did know that he felt a pull towards you, an unstoppable force that would only subside once he could feel your breath against his lips. He just knew. 

Azriel analyzed your features, looking for any indication that he had misread the situation. The front of his body was fully pressed against yours now, your back pressed against the wall, drawing a small gasp from you. His hands came to cup your face, and his thumbs wiped away the remaining wetness on your cheeks. 

"Is this okay?" he whispered, barely audible.

You could only give a slight nod, hypnotized by his beauty, the feeling of his strong body against yours. Everything you had dreamed of for years. This couldn't be real, could it? You were afraid that if you spoke the moment would end. You took in every detail of his face, committing everything to memory, you had never been this close to him. You could see the furrow in his brows as he took you in, the freckles spread around his face, his beautiful nose nudging yours slightly, and his lips. His plump lips, gods his lips, once you set your eyes on them you couldn’t draw them away.

And then he leaned in, lips hovering over yours, you could feel them lightly grazing your own. You felt like you were melting, the wall and his body the only things holding you up. 

"Please kiss me Az" you heard yourself say, not even realizing you had started speaking until the words were coming out of your mouth. The desire you had kept locked up for so long seeping through. 

That was all Azriel needed to hear to do what he wanted to do. His lips met yours in a slow passionate kiss, he poured every once of care and affection he felt for you into it. He didn't rush it, he let himself feel every part of your mouth, taste every inch. His hands tightened their grip on your face. One hand tangling into your hair. How had he gone so long without ever tasting you? He felt that he couldn't stop now. He felt so complete.

And then it snapped. The bond he had been searching for his entire life. The pull that he felt toward you. And you felt it too. The feeling of being tied to Azriel, never letting you get too far, had been the bond. All at once, everything made sense and fell into place. You held him closer to you, neither of you stopping to catch your breath. You just kept kissing him, trying to figure out how to pour everything you were feeling down the bond. And then you felt his own feelings seeping through, the happiness he felt, the relief, and the heat that came with it indicating what this kiss was doing to him. 

You felt yourself giggling between kisses, the bond singing with joy in its full force. "You're my mate" you said, hand coming to hold his face in place, leaning your forehead against his while still looking into the pools of honey in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he couldn't, wouldn't, fight off the smile creeping up on him. ",and you're mine." He whispered

There would be a lot to talk about in the following days, but for now you just let yourself forget everything to enjoy the feeling of Azriel.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Top 3 Are HEATING UP

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Honestly, 3 are neck & necking for top position! They are all so good in different ways. But The Sign had me hooting with laughter this week, so it scooped #1.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, paranormal, fated mates, mystery, suspense, slasher, and horror. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. I have no idea what I’m watching but I’m ON this ride. Is it a roller coaster? Is it a haunted house? Is it a twirl & hurl? Is there candy floss? Am I even tall enough? Who tf cares. All through the second scene, I was laughing. It was legit funny. Billy has great comedic timing. Guess he’s not just a pretty face.

Everyone should be watching this. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 -  Yech. August may be one of GMMTV’s least likable characters ever (and that is saying something). Meanwhile, MOAR language play! They spoiling me!

Mhok letting Day go then walking away at the party hurt so bad.

Argh this show is great!

Ep 6 so that kiss was right on schedule. I’m looking forward to the boyfriend eps before doom & pain in the new year. Carry on GMMTV. 

Speaking of...

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 2 of 12 - Oh they’re great. It’s great. It’s paced oddly, moving quickly through most of the key scenes of the original JBL in these first 2 eps. I think it’s intending to encompass more of the manga series than that one did. Which is good, cause that will get us all the way to The Library Kiss (TM). It's the best kiss in the manga. I also like the sides in this show (better than the JBL version). 

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8fin - What a lovely slightly unhinged little show. Tew, can we talk? Un-ironic suspenders, that takes courage. Also, the revolver was a crazy gun choice. 

Final thoughts:

This show is just as ridiculous as its title. About a gaymer who falls in love with one of his in-game teammates, who just happens to be a IRL gangster. A real gangster, the kind that actually kills people regularly. The lead pair is doing their best with a ridiculous story and shoddy script, but I enjoyed it. Although I was grateful it wasn’t very long, what we got was oddly satisfying if, frankly, a little bit silly. Recommended. 8/10 

That said, what's important about this BL is not the show, but the production and style. Let me explain... no, too much, let me sum up.

This is a chimera BL. Regarding characters: it has Japan's style otaku + Korea's style gangster + Thailand's style friendship group. It used Thai talent + Korean money (Kakao) & IP (adapted from a manwha) but aired on a Chinese channel globally (iQIYI). I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production and truly doubt that any other genre but BL could ever produce like this. It's like diplomat's BL and it's the great wonder of our age that it happened at all. This BL deserves its place in the history books on production alone, even if that place is only in the footnotes. A remarkable little monster.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - The sides are… messy. Using the same actor for the old bf is… odd. But in the end, this show leaves me smiling. Which means, I like it despite myself. 

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - It's decent. It’s basically what I wanted Antique Bakery to be when I first watched that way back when (not to mention Bite Me). But there’s been so much BL since then that, for some reason, this is falling flat. I think it’s moving too fast for a Thai series. Although, say what you like, Ohm has to be one of the best soft kissers in the industry. He's just good at mouth tenderness.

Ugh, that doesn't sound right. But you know what I mean.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 7 of 10 - I love how First is so upset when Sprite starts chatting and being nice to Koh. Sprite is just a sweet easy-going likable boy. I enjoy Sprite as a main character, he’s a bubbly little communicator. And they had a cute kiss.  

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 14 - Because there was more Alan and Jeff and they were more key to the plot I was more into this ep. I do compare it to green smoothie down the pants in the Trash Watch.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 3 of 12 - Look OffGun are truly great. But I’m just not sure we need them in BL anymore. That said, it’s nice to see Off as "the one with the crush" for a change. Also, this show is only good when OffGun are on screen together, otherwise it kinda, well, sucks.

Night Dream (Sat YT) ep 1 of 6 - Cafe setting featuring a cook and a writer. *Seems awfully familiar.* Except these two are exes and this is a reunion romance. It’s stiff and very pulp but not bad (no crap sound effects) and I am a sucker for a reunion romance. That said, Rookie Thailand is not to be trusted, proceed with caution.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 12fin - I'm grateful this is over. It was tense but for the wrong reasons - sadness and confusion. This final episode was fine, but that’s because it was mostly them being together + flashbacks. Plus all the familiar actor faces of the grown-up friends (hi, Karn my lovely, still stunning I see). But 2 of 12 episodes is not enough for the 10 of suffering and confusion that came before.

In conclusion:

A man is killed on his 10th anniversary resulting in a time paradox, for which the only solution is him never meeting his childhood sweetheart until later in life. Both lovers cycle back to the past at different ages, so that they each become their own 1st & 2nd great loves, but every time it ends in pain, until each also endures 10 years of separation. Finally it gets fixed, but leaves them with multiple memories of time's failures like temporal PTSD, and everyone around them has chronic deja vu. Me? I got both. This is one of those BLs that is high-quality with great acting but poor story. If you like your BL dwelling, maudlin, and tense due to angst and suffering, then you might enjoy this. But I just regret it, 6/10. Recommended only if you like confusing time travel emo pain.

In which case, just watch Tokyo in April is... instead. Give over Thailand, Japan does it better.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 6 of 8 - While our main couple isn’t working for me... the side couple isn’t working for me either. I really wanted to give LeoTai a chance, this is the 3rd show I’ve seen them in, and still nope. I like Jade a lot more when he’s sad. He’s a much more pleasant screen experience depressed. I would like him to stay hurt for a couple of eps, just so I can enjoy this show a tiny bit more. But then he just goes unhinged again. Argh. I just don’t like it. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Pisces of Me ep 17 of 24 - Codependent boyfriends in middle school planning for high school dealing with stuff. Including other boys being into them. 

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 5 of 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. DNF 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - It’s cute but I don’t think BL in this short format is Taiwan’s strength these days. And this is quite slow and dull. Perhaps they should have whacked it down to 6 eps, not 10.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - This is one of those JBLs that I should like on paper but is failing me. The drag bit was ridiculous but handled gently. The kiss was… well… something wasn’t it? It’s all very odd. I like the photographer cutie character. 

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.

Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) this is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.

Next Week Looks Like This

Still coming:

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

He so pretty.

I forgot how likable TayNew are, and frankly I think New is a better version of this role for me, personally. I like him a lot. He's a conscientious sweetheart. And a good egg. (Cherry Magic)

Ah the rooftop my old friend. (Last Twilight)

I would like to point out that it's no accident the naga's sex dream happened in the shower, he's a water creature after all. (The Sign)

(Last week)

[howtofightwrite]

I'm working on a monster apocalypse story. I've outlined how the monsters emerged and spread throughout the world, as well as the abilities some humans developed to combat them: physical, mental, and therapeutic powers. I also have ideas about the strength and intelligence of the monsters, including some rare unranked ones. The story includes four main powers - Companies, Government, Agencies, and Hunters. However, I'm stuck on how these powers will fight the monsters, how society will evolve, and how to allocate power among the four main groups, especially considering the presence of illegal agencies and hunters.

There's a few slightly goofy things here. Don't take this too harshly, and I suspect this is a translation issue, but “therapeutic,” is probably not the term you wanted. It sounds like, “I hunt monsters through the power of unlicensed chiropractic adjustments.” You may have meant pharmacological powers, as in characters who are chemically enhanced via drugs.

There's also a little bit a weirdness in terminology here, there's three categories of powers (physical, mental, and whatever augmentation you meant), and there's also four categories of powers.

There's a very basic rule of writing, where you don't want to reuse the same word multiple times in a sentence. Except, that also extrapolates out to larger contexts like this. Now, a “power,” can refer to anything from electrical energy, a paranormal ability, or a faction, up to deities. But, if you're going to use a term like this (at least in your world building) you probably want to use it in one specific way. So, for example, you might want to say characters have three broad categories of abilities, and belong to one of four factions.

This kind of word choice can also be very helpful for establishing tone. Consider for a moment how differently it reads if you have a setting “where characters are augmented in different ways, and then work for various powers in their world,” versus one “where characters gain various supernatural abilities and then work for various conspiracies.” Not much changed in the text itself, but the kind of world you're likely to build from that core statement will be radically different.

Now, using the same terms for both is a viable choice, and also has implications. Primarily that those powers derive directly from the powers your characters work for. In that case you would probably want to have a direct 1:1 mapping of abilities to factions. For example, the corporations augment characters (cybernetically, pharmaceutically, or however else), the agencies train psychic powers, the governments provide better tech and support, while the hunters... do something.

Another problem I see up front is a lack of specificity. There are over 200 governments in the world today, with radically different philosophies and approaches to problem solving. So, lumping all of them together under a single banner is peculiar.

Governments depend to be distinct entities from one another, (at least if we're ignoring the specific edge case of puppet governments.) How they interact with one another will reflect their shared and exclusive history with one another. This creates a complex and varied tapestry that is an absolute goldmine for worldbuilding. International relations shapes the world in a way few other things can compete with.

Similarly, “companies,” is incredibly vague. I can make some educated guesses, but it doesn't really tell me anything. Are these private mercenary bands, the military remnants of fallen nations, megacorporations, or something entirely different? Again, the real question you'd need to ask yourself is, “who are these companies?” They're not a monolithic, unified force. In the world before, they were probably in direct competition with each other, and that may have persisted into the apocalypse. Depending on the nature of the story you're trying to tell, is this going to be another case where you have some factions trying to ally with, or use the monsters for themselves? By, “therapeutic,” do you mean that some of these corporations are trying to graft monster parts onto their own loyal subjects, or looking for means to mind control the monsters, turning them into a domesticated combat force, loyal to them?

Agencies is probably one of the hardest to lock down, because that can refer to either a private or public organization. So this is either part of the companies or part of the governments. Unless the intent was to indicate that these were some kind of separate group, like a foundation, or even a guild.

I'm assuming with hunters, you mean freelance hunters. Because, anyone hunting monsters for any of the above groups could be considered, “a hunter,” but this one isn't a big deal.

So what do you do? You probably want to start with the specifics. You might have a general thought, like what you're describing at the top, but ultimately, that's a very brief stepping stone. You'd sketch that out, and then immediately flip over to detailing the various factions and kinds of characters in more depth. You don't necessarily need to have much detail when you're getting started with your story, but you should be able to, at least, name off most of the major factions that you know are important, and how they interact (with each other, and also with the story.)

A lot of world building lives or dies on how well your various factions interact with each other to create a credible gestalt.

-Starke

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