#the bears were making me feel like i was making a difference and just.......... i feel powerless. and small. and utterly defeated.

[juniperskye]

You’re…intimidating.

Based on the following ask: For Hotch x reader, could I please request charming witty reader who Hotch has an obvioussss crush on and he's trying to flirt but he's out of practice and she's pretty extroverted, confident so she just doesn't register he's interested and he's getting grief from the team for being all puppy dog eyes at her? Pref non-BAU reader but maybe she works in a different FBI dept or she's a lawyer/consultant they work with often and Hotch is always the first to suggest working with her so he's not being subtle in wanting to spend time with her lol. Feel free to adapt!! Thanks!! ❤️Okay pookie!!! I’ve been thinking about this one and it might end up pretty self-indulgent and for that I am sorry – girlie works for cybercrimes (but transfers to the BAU – sorry it felt right) and she’s the best of the best like Penelope worships her…she’s a little alternative so Hotch admires her from afar because she’s not his usual type just PURE FLUFF

Aaron Hotchner x FBI! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 2674

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Aaron is 45), some explicit language, not an OC but reader is described to have some tattoos and piercings (nothing specific though), reader works for cybercrimes and is SUPER tech savvy, idiots in love, Hotch pining hard, tooth rotting fluff, canon typical violence, mentions of hacking and breaking laws, reader is an extroverted introvert, Reader is called “Agent Z” or “Z” because she is a gen z, let me know if I missed any

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hotchner, this is the third time this month you’ve requested her. I’m beginning to think we should be offering her a spot in the BAU.” Director Cruz teased.

“If she’d be willing, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” Hotch shrugged.

“I’ll put in the consultation request and maybe I’ll bring up the idea of a transfer to her.”

Hotch stood and returned to the sixth floor, promptly running into Penelope, as she was making her way back to the Batcave.

“So, I heard I might be getting some assistance on our next case! You know if you keep inviting Agent Z to join us, I’m going to get used to having her around.”

“Would that be so bad?” Hotch asked.

“No, it definitely wouldn’t…unless she stops coming around.” Penelope retorted.

The look on Hotch’s face gave him away, there was a brief flash of disappointment at the suggestion of you not coming around anymore. He couldn’t bear the thought…which made him even more nervous than you did. Speaking of…

“Hey Hotch!” You called effectively startling him.

“Hello! I uh – I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“Ah well, Cruz emailed the request over and I got the notification, so I figured there was no time to waste.” You shrugged.

“Well, we might as well debrief the team then.” Aaron offered, gesturing toward the conference room.

--

Here’s the deal, Aaron had feelings for you, you had captivated him the first time he saw you. It was a Tuesday in July, the weather had been unforgiving…hot and humid, not ideal for the business attire of FBI agents.

As he made his way into the building, he’d taken note of how nearly everyone had their suit jackets or blazers slung over their arms, their sleeves rolled up as they hurried into the air-conditioned building.

But then there was you. You were wearing these chunky black loafers and black trousers, your top had been a simple black tank, it was hugging your skin in a way that made Aaron’s mouth go dry. You had a checkered cardigan tossed over your forearm that you had clearly removed. It allowed Aaron a view of the tattoos that adorned your arms.

He couldn’t explain the pull he felt…you had been so different from any woman he’d ever had any interest in before, but maybe that’s why things never worked out with them. Maybe the others were too stiff, too proper. Maybe he needed a little chaos in his life.

--

During the debriefing, Aaron had made sure you were sat next to him. He let Penelope present the case as usual and allowed time for theories. While Derek and Emily were talking back and forth about the possible age and gender of the unsub, Aaron’s eyes were trained on you. He could see your mind running a mile a minute.

“What is it?” Aaron asked, tapping your arm gently.

“Oh, no. I was just thinking. There’s something about the photo’s that were left at the crime scene…it feels familiar.” You shrugged.

“Have you seen another case like this?”

“I think so…” You pulled open your laptop and began searching through old case files and evidence you’d logged over the years. “Here! Hotch, look at this!”

Aaron leaned over, leaving hardly any space between the two of you. His gaze shifted from your profile to your computer screen, taking in the images before him. On your screen were photos that were nearly identical to those in the file the team had just reviewed.

It seemed as though this unsub took photos to document their work. Leaving some behind at the crime scenes, taunting law enforcement.

“We didn’t have very many leads back when this came across my desk, but I have new programs I can use to run these photos through now and with Penelope’s help, I think we could finally get this guy.” You explained.

“Alright, why don’t you travel with us so you can access the physicals of the photos.” Aaron suggested.

“Okay!”

“Alright then, wheels up in thirty.” Aaron commanded.

--

“Hey Agent Z! You joining us again?” Derek nudged you gently.

“Not this time, I was just asked to come and consult on a case.” You replied.

 “Oh, I see. Bossman calling in his favorite once again.”

“Stop! It’s not like that Derek.”

“Girl…you and I both know that it is.” Derek laughed and walked off.

You made your way to Aaron’s office, knocking on the door. When he calls out for you to enter, you go straight for the chair in front of his desk, plopping into it with a huff.

“You alright?” Aaron asks, concern lacing his tone. “We could do this later if you’re not up for it.”

“No! I’m happy to help! I’ve just got a decision to make, and I don’t know what to do.” You sighed. “Let’s talk about this case!”

Aaron and you went through the case that had been sent in from the NYPD. You were confused as to why he’d called you in to consult, the case had seemed pretty cut and dry…something Aaron would typically delegate to Derek or Dave. The tech aspect to this case was so minute, it was common sense…but you didn’t want to call him out on it.

--

“Thanks again for your help, hopefully the NYPD can close that case pretty quickly now.” Aaron walked you over toward the elevators.

“Any time. I like working with you and the BAU.” You smiled cheerfully.

“So um, what was that decision you have to make?” He inquired.

“Oh, uh…well, Cruz asked me if I wanted to transfer from Cybercrimes over to the BAU actually.”

“That’s great! I mean – I uh. Do you think you’ll do it?”

“I’m thinking about it for sure! It’s just, I’ve been with Cybercrimes for so long, I’d feel bad leaving them…ya know?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You said your goodbyes and you headed back to your office on the eighth floor. Aaron stood there for a bit, looking after you as you made your exit. He stood there a beat longer before turning and heading back to his office. Only he didn’t get that far. Upon walking through the glass doors, he was met with the whole team standing there waiting for him.

“You’re down bad Hotch.” Emily said.

“Yeah, that was almost painful to watch.” JJ agreed.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Hotch shook his head and made his way back to his office.

--

Agreeing with the director to have you transferred was, quite possibly, the dumbest decision that Aaron could have ever made. He already struggled just being near you when you’d come and assist, but the thought of having you around all the time…what was he meant to do?

Subject: Agent Transfer – Effective immediately Good afternoon, This email is being sent to inform both the CCU and BAU of the immediate transfer of Agent Z. In discussing this transfer, she assured me that should the CCU need her assistance in a case, she’d happily help. She does, however, know that the agents on the team are more than capable of handling things. As for the BAU, given her expertise and background, she will travel with you as needed. I just want to remind you that Agent Z has a background in hacking, computer forensics, criminal justice, psychology, behavior analysis, amongst others. Utilize her skills – I believe she will make an incredible contribution to the BAU. Hotchner – her file was delivered to your office this morning. Also, she needs firearms training, please ensure she completes this before travelling with the team. Let me know if you have any questions. Mateo Cruz - Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit

Aaron read the email four times. You would be starting with the team today…he needs to get you scheduled for your firearms training and qualification exam. He figured he could do that while you get settled in the office adjacent to Penelope’s.

--

“Hey Hotch.” Your fingers rapped against the doorframe.

“Hi-Hello. Can I uh, show you to your office?” He asked.

“Penelope already beat you to it.” You teased. “But if you want to help me bring the last of my boxes down, that would be awesome.”

“Oh, I um-I…can-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to! You’re a busy man, and I can ask Spence or Derek!”

“No, I’d love to help.” Aaron recovered.

“Okay.” You smiled.

Aaron led the two of you over to the elevator, allowing you to enter first, then following suit and pressing the button for the eighth floor. It slowly lifted before signaling your arrival on the CCU floor.

You guided Aaron to your old office where the last two boxes remained. There was an IT guy loading your monitors onto a cart, getting ready to move them for you. You looked around at the now empty space…it felt empty now, like it no longer belonged to you, and you supposed it didn’t anymore. Aaron couldn’t help but notice the slight sadness that took over your features.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just odd, having had this office for the last four years, and now it’s empty…it’s not mine anymore.” Your gaze shifted downward. “It feels like the end of a chapter. While the feeling isn’t bad, because I’m really excited to be joining the BAU, it just feels kind of sad.”

“I know what you mean. I felt that same way when I left the law firm I worked at.” Aaron looked over at you.

You met his gaze, and he offered a small smile. You returned it, feeling this sense of comfort. He’d always brought up that feeling in you though. It was like this glowing warmth that spread its way through your entire being…but that flame only burned in you when he was around.

--

“And hold it just like that, good!” Aaron praised.

You fired three consecutive shots at the target, forming a neat cluster in the outlines chest. Pride bloomed in Aaron’s chest, and you squealed with excitement, throwing your arms around him!

“Thank you so much for helping me! There was no way I was going to pass this exam without you!”

“I’m not sure how you’ve been with the bureau this long and not had to get your firearm qualification.” Aaron shook his head with a laugh.

“Hey! I have been confined to the eighth floor for the last five-ish years, I haven’t needed to carry one.”

Aaron took note of the freckles that dusted your nose, and the way the light reflected in your eyes. He thought for a moment about how close you were, and how easy it would be to just lean in the last few inches and capture your lips in a kiss. But he had to shake the thought away.

--

“I PASSED!” You shouted, running your way through the BAU bullpen.

“Good lord, what are you yelling about?” Dave asked, coming out of his office.

“I PASSED! I PASSED!” You waved your firearms certificate in the air, making your way over to Aaron’s office.

He exited his office to see what the commotion was all about, seeing you shaking your hand, waving a piece of paper around like a mad woman. He was mesmerized by you. You were 100% yourself and he admired you for it, you weren’t worried about how others perceived you. You only worried about your own opinion; you wanted to be the best version of yourself always.

“HOTCHHH, I PASSED!” You ran over to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck.

Aaron held you tight, lifting you off the ground for just a moment before noticing the look on Dave’s face. He placed you down and quietly congratulated you. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at getting caught by Dave. He knew that he had done nothing wrong…but he also knew that Dave could read him better than anyone else.

--

“Okay, when are you going to ask that girl out?” Dave huffed, sitting in the chair across from Aaron.

“Dave.” Aaron scolded. “It’s inappropriate.”

“Aaron…you deserve it. Happiness I mean. So, are you going to let it pass you by or are you going to seize the moment?”

“Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt, but we have a case.” Penelope informed. “It’s a child abduction.”

“Let everyone know we’re leaving now – we will brief on the plane.” Aaron commanded.

“Is Z going with you?” Penelope asked.

“Yes!” Dave answered for Aaron.

--

Aaron always sat next to you on the plane. It had been purely accidental, you’d sat in his usual seat and though Aaron wouldn’t say anything, Spencer did. So, you moved over into the adjacent window seat and Aaron slid in next to you. Since then, you’d always sat there.

Like now for example, the BAU was headed home after a two-week long case. The unsub had been way too good at covering his tracks, he’d had the entire team stumped. Thankfully you’d found his slipup in a dark web chatroom. He’d posted video of him torturing his latest victim in a chatroom used by very sick people. It was flagged once you’d turned on notifications for keywords and certain video content. After receiving the notification, Penelope and you were able to track an IP address and narrow down the location.

It had been exhausting honestly, running around, back and forth, interviewing people, going through evidence, just going until you found this guy…and now that was finally catching up to you. Your head had been bobbing off to the side as you fought the throws of sleep. As you began dozing off once more, Aaron reached over and led your head to rest on his shoulder. You finally settled and snuggled a bit further into his side, and for once he leaned back and let himself rest on the flight home.

Emily pointed JJ and Derek’s attention over to the two of you and then giggled. Derek quickly snapped a picture and sent it in their group chat. Penelope was quick to reply with the happy tears emojis and saying “finally”.

--

Things had shifted slightly after that. And while the team still teased Aaron about his very obvious crush on you, he finally allowed himself to be more confident in his interactions with you. He realized that Dave was right…maybe he did deserve happiness.

He’d invited you to get lunch with him a few times during work and he’d brought you coffee. He thought he was making his affection for you more obvious…but you still didn’t budge. He was beginning to worry that you didn't feel the same.

But it all came to a head when he decided he needed to be direct. Not on his own���Emily and JJ had to confront him and then convince him that you did like him, you just didn’t think he liked you.

--

You walked into the elevator, just about to click the button to the sixth floor when an arm reached in to stop the door from closing.

“Oh! Good morning Hotch.” You greeted. “Sorry, if I had seen you coming I’d have held the door.”

“No worries.” He forgave. “Do you um – do you have any plans tonight?”

“No, I was thinking of ordering a pizza and watching an episode of The Great British Bake Off. What about you?”

You’re reply had been so innocent and sweet. Just a simple response to his question, not reading into what he was truly asking you.

“Sweetheart, though your plans sound wonderful…will you go to dinner with me tonight?” He asked.

Your jaw dropped, only for a moment as you worked to regain your composure. Had you really been that blind? The girls had told you time and time again that he was interested, and you’d brushed it off, not wanting to get your hopes up…but here he is now, asking you out.

“I would love to.” You smiled.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[theduck5]

its amazing what treating children like the small people they are can do for a kid. kids want attention, they can get it either negatively or positively. negative attention, if it is all they get, creates someone who does not know what to do in face of positive attention, nor how to gain it. so they do things to get attention, but negative attention(ie, getting yelled at, punished physically, etc)

but they aren't well rounded when they grow up. did you know babies die when not held? when not loved? we are social creatures, we desire attachment, connection, positive thoughts and emotions. but we are shaped by those around us. listening to children, our future, is so important. they want love, sometimes as simple as lighthearted astonishment, a nice smile, an attentive listener. someone who takes them seriously. they have big emotions, for they are so young, they may be feeling them for the first time, or do not understand their actions. but you can teach them, they'll understand.

why does the rule of not senselessly hurting people make sense? it is cruel, it hurts people. do they deserve to be hurt? why? they are only human, what gives one the right to decide who deserves to be hurt or not? we've gotten this far by helping each other.

children ask why why why because they do not know, they want want want because they do not understand sharing. but they can. we can tell them, explain in ways they understand. violence teaches fear, it does not teach respect. respect is garnered through deeds that others claim fair, reasonable. or hard ones, that they could not bear. you teach a child the feeling of pain when they cry, they will not cry. you teach a child the feeling of fear when they speak their truth, they will not speak. you punish a child for wanting to learn, they will not want to learn. children can understand cause and affect, they really do. they can empathize with unfairness, they can accept reasoning for actions taken or not. the reasons can just either be "crying and screaming makes me hurt," or "crying and screaming is unproductive, it does not get what i want, but there are other ways, like waiting."

explaining how the world works to a child gives the child information. "why cant we get candy?" "too much candy is not good for you." "why? its yummy" "the sugar can be bad for your teeth, so if you want candy you need to brush your teeth really well, and eat some vegetables, to balance it all out." "so i can have candy, but i have to do two things i dont want?" "yes" "mmm two candies for two actions" "alright, deal." this teaches a child how to be healthy, what is and isnt good for your body, and gives an understandable explanation of why not.

everything we know we've been taught. we know what anger is because we have felt it and had the feeling identified by another, or have been shown anger and connected the dots. we know what water is, because someone or something explained what liquid is. we know how to empathize, because we were taught how our actions affect others, and how this affects us. not everything we've been taught is necessarily by words, but by actions, connections of two different things, understanding of situations.

(sorry if this is all over the place i am So Tired but Incredibly Passionate about this subject)

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: Sylus has always lived a lonely life, unfamiliar with pleasant company. Being with you again is something he must get used to. He's learning how to, and so are you.

Warnings: Lowkey doesn't make sense because the author is exhausted but wanted to churn something out for you guys. Also mentions of blood. Might be a little angsty.

Author's note: I've gotten busy recently, so I won't be able to write as often. Sorry! I come bearing lowkey dependant Sylus. Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Throughout his life, Sylus has spent all his time alone. No one would count enemies as company, even if they do trail him and keep an eye on his every move. They were the ones who wanted to see him fall off his throne; cause and spectate his suffering. A walking target. Sure, he had Mephisto and the twins he took under his wing... But could a mechanical bird count as a friend? Or a pair of twins who work directly under him, following his commands? No, that is obedience.

Sylus did not have anyone to call his own. No one to trade secrets with or share his warmth. And in turn it has made him cold, self-reliant, for he cannot trust in another person. He had never learned how. But he takes comfort in the teachings he does know— the ones of his only love. Melodies dance in the air, a comforting tune. He attempts to hum along, taking pride in the fact that he is able to unlike the past. A respite he is allowed to have in this harsh world.

When the both of you are reunited— albeit, unknowingly on your part— Sylus is at a loss. He had thought that you, too, would remember the past just as he did. Yet you stare into his eyes with the guarded malice of a stranger. It is a gaze he should be used to by now. And he is... Just not from you. Where has his beloved's familiar softness gone? Only your fierce claws and teeth remain. Sylus does not know how to fix this. He was never taught to build relationships or tenderly lower defenses with the patience of a saint.

Your relationship is rocky at first; like oil and water. Both of your lives are completely different from the other. With the Hunter Association actively hunting down Sylus, whatever you have with him is illegal. Forbidden. Although... Surely they would not mind if you stuck around? Gathering intel for them could be useful in the future. This is fine, you are simply using him, you are not delusional. Humans have always desired for what they cannot have.

“You're sticking around for intel on Onychinus? Well then, be my guest. Don't be shy when using me.” Sylus's sardonic smile is etched into your mind.

He tells no one that being of use to you is the only way he knows how to keep you close to him.

Be disgusted, you will yourself. Be repulsed, resent him for all he has done and will do. You will only come to regret being so entangled with his life. This is insane and you are supposed to be a good, law-abiding citizen of Linkon. A hunter. Yet you cannot help feeling like prey— engulfed by a predator who kills and comes back to you with blood soaked hands. Most times, even his own. How will you ever learn to hate someone who learned to be vulnerable with you?

Over time, you start to notice that Sylus is quite... lonely. You are the only one who checks up on him, through text or call. The only one who visits, who teases and jokes, who surprises. You, you, you. Comfortable and happy with someone so dangerous. So of course he eventually craves your presence in your absence. Sylus will make up whatever excuse, put himself in any situation, just to be able to spend some time with you. When it ends, he is distraught.

“You're abandoning me when I'm no longer useful to you? Your skill in being heartless is assuring.” His tone is teasing, as always. But his eyes hold a far-off melancholy.

It feels as though your heart has been punctured with shattered pieces of a fragile thing.

“Abandon? You're sorely mistaken. Useful or not, you're stuck with me, you have no other choice.” You reach out, grabbing his hand.

Something new for Sylus to learn; that you will not throw him away when he does not serve any purpose to you. You are his companion— his beloved who cares for and loves him. Not because you owe him or as an obligation. Simply because you do. And you are both still learning. It will be okay. Having each other means neither of you will ever have to face the cruelties of this world alone.

[kashverse]

if there is one child that must be appreciated, it is latte. a good latte deserves cute latte art, just as much as you deserve to witness the absolute chaos that will unfold when you put your boyfriend and a delicate artform in the same room. because, naturally, you—being the genius that you are—decide that these two gifts to humanity must be combined. your boyfriend, with all his charm, skill, or in some cases, sheer unrelenting ego, should absolutely try his hand at making tiny, adorable masterpieces in steamed milk. what could possibly go wrong? …a lot. a whole lot. but you’re in too deep now. the class is booked. the milk is frothing. and your boyfriend? oh, he is about to take this way too seriously.

now, if there’s one thing sukuna cannot stand, it’s being patronized. and somehow, standing there, all six-foot-something, surrounded by people who gasp use stencils for their latte art makes him feel violently disrespected. oh, you think he needs this? you think he can’t make art out of steamed milk? please. his hands were carving flesh into art long before this instructor was even a twinkle in their ancestor’s eye. but if you thought he’d refuse to participate, you don’t know sukuna well enough. no, he takes this as a personal challenge. he learns. he perfects. and when he finally presents his latte art, it’s a perfectly detailed demon face, sharp-toothed and menacing. “oh, uh… cute pitbull!” you say, nudging him before the instructor has a heart attack. sukuna nods sagely. yes. pitbull. definitely. but when it comes to adults he despises? oh, he’s petty. that one customer who dared to critique his “overly aggressive aesthetic”? congratulations, buddy, you just drank a latte cursed with an ancient sigil. sukuna watches them sip it with a smirk, arms crossed, utterly delighted with his petty vengeance. “how’s the flavor?” he asks, smug as hell. the customer just blinks, confused. they’ll probably have bad luck for a week. or diarrhea. who’s to say?

choso, on the other hand, has an existential awakening. at first, he’s simply fascinated. art… can exist in coffee? he stares at the swirling crema, eyes widening as he processes this revelation. the instructor barely explains the basics before choso stands up, dramatically setting his cup down. “this,” he announces, “is a reflection of the fleeting nature of life.” people murmur in agreement, assuming he’s some kind of deep, artistic genius. but oh, no. he’s spiraling now. “you create it, admire it, and then—destroy it with a single sip. isn’t that cruel? isn’t that… life itself?” you have to physically drag him out before he turns the workshop into a philosophical symposium on the ephemerality of human existence.

geto, meanwhile, is here for a completely different reason. does he need to learn latte art? no. does he want to? also no. but can he use it for his own agenda? absolutely. he skips right past the cute heart and bear designs and learns how to write with milk foam. the next thing you know, you glance at his cup and see “JOIN ME” written in elegant cursive atop a matcha latte. “are you serious?” you ask. he just smiles.

“art is meant to convey a message.”

“your message is cult recruitment.”

“my message is inclusion,” he corrects. you have to sit him down and give him a long lecture on why recruiting followers through artisanal coffee is not ethical. he nods solemnly but then winks at the barista like you didn’t just spend fifteen minutes trying to knock some morality into him.

toji, on the other hand, is struggling. “this ain’t for people like me,” he jokes at first, grinning. but five lattes later, he is no longer grinning. his first attempt at a heart? roadkill. the second attempt? roadkill that got run over twice. “babe,” you say gently, looking at the cup.

“don’t,” he warns.

“i just think—”

“DON’T.”

legend says he’s still in the kitchen at midnight, aggressively steaming milk and muttering “stupid fuckin’ foam” under his breath.

meanwhile, gojo…is fighting for his life in this class. he learned latte art off of tiktok one time and now thinks he’s god’s gift to coffee. he enters the workshop smug, flicking his hair and winking at the instructor like he’s about to change the game. and for a while? yeah. he’s decent. he gets the basics down pretty quickly and flexes at every given opportunity. but then. then. some sixteen-year-old prodigy casually creates a mona lisa on their latte. gojo short-circuits. his hair literally stands on end. “this is war,” he mutters. and now he’s hyper-fixated on beating this kid at latte art, muttering “i’m the strongest” while aggressively swirling his milk foam.

but then, there’s nanami, the epitome of poise, precision, and patience. he treats the class like it’s an artform—because to him, it is. he listens intently, follows instructions meticulously, and in just one session, his latte art is restaurant-tier. and it doesn’t stop there. every morning, without fail, he hands you a latte with an intricate, handcrafted design. a heart. a tulip. one time, even a self-portrait. your local café is begging for you to convince him to quit his job and work for them instead. he refuses, of course. but now? well. you kinda can’t start your day without a perfect latte from nanami’s personal, high-precision coffee service.

[cosmerelists]

I Assign Cosmere Characters A Random Animal As Their Pet

I'm using the random generator from this post. I've already created a list of Cosmere characters (it's just the main characters I always do, ha ha), and then I'll randomly assign them a pet and see how they fair! For the record, these results are not altered at all!

[For the purposes of this post, we're gonna pretend that any animal that comes up would make a good and ethical pet, okay? Please don't actually try to adopt a bear.]

1. Kaladin: A dromedary (a type of camel)

Kaladin: [stares at the camel] Camel: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: T-This is just a bigger, meaner horse! Kaladin: I can tell just from one glance into its eyes that that hump is full of SPITE Camel: [spits at Kaladin] Kaladin: I KNEW IT

2. Vin: A mustang (a type of horse)

Vin: Yes, yes, you think you're soooo pretty and fast, don't you? Vin: I'm faster, you know. Probably. With enough metal. Vin: So just don't you getting to big for your horse britches! Elend: Wow! What a beautiful horse! Vin: Don't you start!

3. Shallan: A monkey

Shallan: What a cute little monkey you are! Shallan: With the little outfit Adolin sewed for you, and the paintbrush I gave you! Shallan: A regular little monkey artist! Pattern: [buzzing] I keep telling you, Shallan, this creature wants to be like that one person I saw when you were looking for the herald! It wants to be paint with its p- Shallan (loudly): We'll just use regular paint, thank you!

4. Tress: A mandrill (largest monkey in the world)

Tress: Wow, you have such a pretty face, ma'am! Tress: And a large girl like you won't need to fear any mean ol' cat, will you! Charlie: I feel strangely inadequate. Tress: I-I didn't mean it that way!

5. Dalinar: A bear

Dalinar: You and I are a lot alike, bear. Dalinar: We are both large and intimidating, and we can hurt a lot of people if we get violent. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Also, apparently Navani really likes to cuddle with both of us. Navani: He's soooo soft!

6. Painter: A bighorn (a type of sheep)

Painter: I like him. Painter: He's got a noble bearing. You can tell with those big horns and steely gaze, he's probably king of his herd or something. Painter: So please stop stacking chopsticks on his head. Yumi: Come on, he LOVES his chopstick-tower-hat! Bighorn: [making happy sheep noises] Painter: I-I just think his gravitas is taking a hit.

7. Leshwi: A burro (a type of donkey)

Lewshi: I'll admit, I was really hoping for an animal that could fly. Venli: Surely anything can fly if you lash it to the sky. Leshwi: I tried that. Leshwi: Apparently donkeys don't like to fly.

8. Adolin: A basilisk (a type of lizard)

Shallan: So...why the little cape on your lizard friend? Adolin: He runs across water! It's cool, but I thought it would look even cooler if he was wearing a cape while he did it! Shallan: Where do you find enough water for that? Adolin: Well...he's mostly been running across a bathtub. Shallan: Ah, so he REALLY needs the coolness factor of a cape... Adolin: Yeah, I think it'll really help his self-esteem.

9. Steris: A sheep

Wax: Hey Steris. Steris: Hello, Wax. Wax: I can't help but notice that where yesterday was one sheep, today there are fifteen sheep. Steris: I read that they feel better in herds! Wax: You always go all in--I love that about you. Wax: ... Steris: ... Wax: So we're sheep farmers now? Steris: A little bit, yeah.

10. Navani: A ferret

Sibling: NAVANI YOUR FERRET IS RUNNING THROUGH MY TUNNELS AGAIN Navani: It loves you! Sibling: IT'S LIKE THAT LIFT CHILD ALL OVER AGAIN

11. Siri: A budgerigar (bird)

Siri: This little guy is perfect for me! Siri: Colorful, small, sweet! Siri: I'm teaching it to talk! Budgie: Let's destroy evil! Siri: ... Siri: Uncle Vasher was here again, wasn't he?

12. Kelsier: A duckbill platypus (yes, really)

Kelsier: Everyone, meet the newest member of our team! Dockson: Uh...what is that? Vin: It looks like a bunch of different animals stuck together. Breeze: Rather unsightly, really. Ham: You, uh, doing okay, Kel? Kelsier: You're all such doubters. But watch what happens when I do THIS! [Puts a fedora on the platypus] Vin: ...Why do I suddenly feel like he's going to make a great spy? Kelsier: Trust me, this is gonna be great!

[pearlescentparade]

BROKER X READER HEADCANNONS PLEASEE I CRAVEEE IT CAN BE NSFW OR GENERAL HEADCANNONS OR BOTHHH

this and other requests r what pushed me to accept npc requests LOL

⛓️‍💥broker x reader general + nsfw headcanons💝❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥💞

once you've caught his eye, you'd best give up on pursuing a relationship with anybody else. if broker sees any other inphernal attempting to court you (and he will, he has eyes everywhere), he'll approach them later and "make a deal". it's nothing fatal or sinister, he's only bribing them to never interact with you again. hey, if they could be paid off to leave you, they didn't deserve you in the first place! what he's doing is a good(?) thing for you! and once he finds you at your lowest after being lead on for the hundredth time, that's when he strikes

"aw, why's a pretty demon like you moping out here all alone?"

"...just some bad luck with love, you wouldn't wanna know."

"oh, but i'm sure i do! say, how's about i make a little offer to you? it's simple, if you smile for me, i'll be your boyfriend! now i don't mean to toot my own horn but i-"

"-ah! look at that darling grin! so you accept my terms? wonderful, then i'll be seeing you around, sweetheart~"

broker is considered a highly dangerous individual, manipulating and cheating to get his way. but with you? nothing but innocent smiles and giggles. he's all over you with honeyed words and affectionate gestures (hugs, kisses, and the like)

the pet names are endless. just when you think he can't get cornier, he can. honey boo-boo bear, schmookums, his cutesy wootsy pie, they're awful. your reactions to his latest terrible nickname for you only encourage him!

makes a habit of always touching you in some way, whether it be capturing you in a hug, holding your hand, or resting a hand on your shoulder. it makes you feel like he's constantly clinging onto you.. like he's an inseparable part of you... and he's more than aware of this.

sometimes he'll randomly show up at your house. even if you're not home, he can wait until you are! he especially likes to pop up in your bed after you've fallen asleep and greet you when you wake up. it's a fun surprise! though, you don't recall giving him your spare keys...

you learned about his detachable properties through a prank. he hugged you from behind while you were making breakfast, then pulled away to go to your dining area and wait for the food to be ready. it took a few seconds, but you eventually started to wonder.. if broker was in a different room, then who's hand was still wrapped around your waist? your scream of pure terror sounded so adorable, it makes the angry lecture he received afterwards worth it!

obviously, you're curious about what your boyfriend does for work. he's always showering you with expensive gifts and lavish dates, but where exactly does he get the bux for it...? yet when you ask, he states he's but a simple "merchant" and that "it'd do you better to not worry your pretty little head about it, sweet pea!" broker isn't ashamed of keeping you in the dark about his business

his colleagues hear all about you, all the time. every chance he gets, he'll gush about his amazingly cute partner. they're his 'family' after all! and soon, you'll make a delightful addition. scythe supports him wholeheartedly and find it adorable that he's found a lover, while medkit feels sorry for you

broker constantly insists on you meeting his 'family'. the thought made you nervous, what if they didn't approve of you? he seems well-off considering his occupation and wealth, what if his family looks down on you for not being as affluent? but broker only laughs when you express these concerns. they know all about you already, and they're dying to meet you! though, when you acquiesce and go to meet his family, you don't expect to be dragged to a church..

your boyfriend never struck you as the pious type, so to hear him passionately rave about this church was a surprise. turns out, this community is the 'family' he was referring to, rather than a blood family you assumed you'd be meeting. it alleviates a significant amount of pressure, but you still hope for their blessing. you've nothing to fear though. as stated before, they've heard lots about you (more than you'd want them to know).

you will be indoctrinated into the cult. it's inevitable. you find yourself unable to refuse when broker takes up your hands in his, gets down on one knee, and asks you so kindly to 'join his family'. all he's missing is a ring for it to seem like a marriage proposal, but he can make arrangements for that. he's done so much for you.. you could do this for him, couldn't you? there's just.. one tiinnnyy condition that needs to be met.

broker hums as he rubs circles on your back, soothing your violent distress after the operation to remove one of your eyes. this is but the first sacrifice you will make for the sake of the family, he says. but doesn't he know you could care less about the stupid cult? doesn't he know you're only in this for him?

you constantly get the feeling that you're being watched when you're out. from a distance, broker grins as he watches you meekly glance up at the windows of buildings, frantically check behind you every few seconds, and run into stores to shake off the feeling. but even in the safety of a building, you aren't safe from his prying gaze. sometimes he'll come out and reveal himself to you, but other times? it's more entertaining to watch you squirm

being broker's partner means picking up calls from unfamiliar numbers. while he loved calling with you, he's always changing his contact. sometimes, to toy with you, he'll pretend that he's somebody else or that he's got the wrong number. it's beyond lovely to hear your disappointment quickly shift to excitement upon realizing that it's actually him

the first time he went missing, you were devastated. he's never liked to stay away from you too long, but he hadn't called or swung by... where could your lover possibly be? naturally, you set out snooping. you asked around to anyone willing to give you the time of day if they've recently seen a demon in a teal suit and an x scar above his left eye. many paled simply at the description, stammering out that 'they don't know who you're talking about' and immediately finding an excuse to leave the conversation. despite the questionable behaviors of the majority of demons you asked, you discovered from some accounts that he was last seen being arrested by the warden.

when you find him caged in the banlands, his reaction is.. different than what you expect.

"ah, you two finally came- what.. what are you doing HERE?!"

"i'm.. here to save my boyfriend? duh."

"no- NO, you're not- UGH! ..listen, you need to hurry on home. it's really not safe here, and if that warden catches you... gosh i don't even wanna think about what he'll do."

"but what about y-"

"toodaloo! sayonara!! ciao!! shoo, shoo!! ..i'll make it up to you once my coworkers bust me out, just- SCRAM!"

you'll never know how much it scared him to see you. did you think you were some foolish hero? if the warden happened to come around, there's no doubt in his mind that the tyrant would use you as blackmail against him. if torture and execution doesn't work on the broker, it sure would on his innocent partner. from then on, he's more careful about evading banhammer

thinks it would be incredibly romantic if he could replace all of his limbs with yours. permanently uniting the both of you into one body, it's the ultimate gesture of affection! he would never ever change out his parts again! alas, you would die in the process, and broker's life would be impossibly dull without his darling. oh well, he can't have his cake and eat it too

❤️‍🔥nsfw❤️‍🔥

broker's a switch, sometimes he likes to let you take the reigns and other times he'd prefer having you ruined under him

absolutely loves to edge you. what better way to remind you of his power than bringing you impossibly close to your climax only to still completely, dangling your sweet release right above you?

bothers medkit to switch out his lower regions for one with a bigger dick or a tighter vagina. you never know what you'll get, but rest assure that whatever it is will please you

regrettably, due to his condition regarding his nerves, broker can't feel pleasure (and thus, has no libido or any need to masturbate). but that doesn't mean he can't derive his own sense of pleasure from seeing you come undone

fortunately, due to his condition regarding nerves, broker has unlimited stamina, and can go for as long as he likes! which is until you physically cannot respond to him anymore

big on dumbification, he loves reducing you to nothing but a mindless whore who can only babble incomprehensively with the exception of 'yes' and 'more'

likes to switch his pace randomly to either make you beg for more or sob for him to slow down

100% a sadist, he'll purposefully strain your muscles as he spreads you or puts you in uncomfortable positions

he commissions the dollmaker to craft a voodoo doll of you complete with synced nerves, so that you can feel everything that he does to your mini version. while observing from a distance, he'll rob the crotch of your plush and watch you double over and cry out in a mix of arousal and shock. it's adorable to study you as you do your utmost to stifle your reaction and pretend like you're not getting fucked good by a phantom force. it's even better when you're with friends, and you scramble to improvise an excuse for your strange behavior

a total voyeurist. he'll watch you masturbate from your windows or even your closet, noting how you tense upon his gaze. even through your lust, you can recognize that familiar feeling of being stalked. whatever, if that peeping tom wants to watch you jack off, you'll give them a show. you wear your lacy lingerie, get extra vocal, and buck your hips vigorously into the bright teal vibrator that broker gifted you

he'll ring you up, ask you about your day, yada yada. and while you're talking, you can hear the erotic noises of faint slapping and heavy breathing coming from broker's side. as mentioned previously, broker can't feel pleasure. he's only doing this to arouse you, and swords, does it work

likes to detach one of his hands and place it anywhere on your body during sex. it can help to keep your legs spread open, grope your chest, pinch your clit, choke your neck, have its fingers being sucked in your mouth, he can be creative with it

his over-the-top sweet pet names transform into nasty nicknames when you're fucking. not only that, he'll do babytalk and call you things like his 'dirty little slut' in a high-pitched and condescending tone

any demons who still try to hit on you will receive a phone call later that night, and all they'll hear on the line is you and broker unmistakably fucking as your voice clearly cries out his name before it abruptly hangs up. it's about sending a message

the morning after, he's already gone (likely to go earn money for the church). but at the very least, he always leaves a few snacks and a glass of water with a note saying something alone the lines of 'i had fun last night C;' (parade postscript: this request kept deleting itself so it took way longer to put out my apolocheese)

[hannachuuu]

Preachers Daughter

for my one and only ethel cain girlies

𝔗𝔥𝔢 Village had always been my whole world, a small place shrouded in gloom and silence, tucked deep within the forests of eastern europe.

The heavy Irongates enclosing this safehaven i have called my home all my life had always felt like a barrier of protection, the chilling bedtime stories still haunting me to this day, even though i have outgrown my naive childlike-self, at least i believe so.

We´ve been warned, preached to, that one shall never cross the barrier that keeps us safe within, yet over time i started to notice that even iron rots, making me feel anxious. it had made me wonder wether this barricade, this shield, would hold up for the sake of our lifes, haunted by the thoughts by what awaits us beyond what i know.

My dad, the preacher, would take me down to the edge in the early morning hours, where the red beams of the new born sun would reflect off the dark metal, an image that would follow me into my dreams, good and bad ones. We would bless the rusted material, but with each time it seemed it would wither away more.

I tightend my grip around the small ourn, a family heirloom that has been passed down multiple generations already, cotaining freshly blessed water. A routine had established with tasks that i needed to fulfill with each year that i had gotten older, preparing me for the duties when i would find a husband, bear a child.

The cold morning air bit my cheeks, and the hem of my once white dress dragged along the dirt of the muddy path, picking up every fleck of flith that was stuck between the old cobblestones. Today something felt different, my heart was restless. In the distance the sound of the heavy church bells were echoing throught the dark forest, creating a haunting tune while mixing with the whispers of the wind.

My Nan would tell me stories when my father was away in church, busy preaching the eternal one. She would tell about the forest and the origins of us, from a land far, far away. Eventhough she was considered the villages mad old lady, i had loved to listen to her stories, making me excitedly jump each time she´d sit down in that old rocking chair on the poarch.

I remeber the last time i had talked to her until the old age got to her first, the allmighty flame engulfing her welcomingly. Eternal life was waiting for her blessed soul, in a form, different from her physical one. For the first time since i could think, her wrinkly face was scrunched together in a serious expression.

She told me about a prophecy she had dreamed about, including me and the future of our commune, written long before i had been born. Standing on the edge of the world i was crossing a path towards something my Nan wasnt able to identify, but judging by her void eyes, it seemed to have scared her deep within her old bones.

Her trembling hands had wrapped around my chubby face, her dark orbs locking with my own like she was studying my soul.

´´Your light will burn brigther than anyone elses my dear, but it will burn fast´´, she managed to choke out, ´´You will not see the world you create, but it will be a better one because of you...´´

´´The eternal flame doesnt just burn to punish, its burns to guide, to purify, to make way for something new. That´s what you are. A beacon to lead us into the unkown, our flame.´´

shedding a couple tears while embracing me tightly i had already felt her spirit leaving me behind, yet something had attched itself to my heart back then, keeping me safe and guiding me whenever i was lost on my path of believing.

When reaching the edge of the looming forest i felt a chill run down my spine, making me glance around nervously. The forest clinging to my dress while its skeleton like branches released me of their tight hold, nevertheless the heavy weight on my chest hadnt lifted.

I froze when i heard it -a low groan, faint but unmistakable. At first i had thought my imagination had gotten the better of me on this already strange day, but then i saw him.

Just beyond the Irongates, slumped against a tree, was a man. He looked strange, wearing clothes i had never seen before, it reminded me of uniforms i had seen in some of my schoolbooks. His attire however, looked everything but new. Dirty, torn and stained with blood, and his leg- twisted horribly into an unnatrual position- leaking crimson into the leaf covered soil.

I stood there, paralyzed, the wind gushing around me, as if an invisible force was pushing me towards him. Outsiders were forbidden, their presence a violation of everything id been taught. My fathers supercilious voice rang in my head, a sharp rebuke for even looking at a stranger. But the man groaned again, his head lolling to the side, and something deep within me shifted. He wasnt a threat. He was dying.

Clutching the cold Iron of the gate, staining my hands with the rust of the dirty metal, my heart hammering. If i helped him, id be breaking the communes most sacred law. If i left him, id be no better than the wickedness we claimed to shun. Taking a shaky breath, whispering my myself, ´´..surely the eternal flame wouldnt want me to let him suffer..´´, after all life was one of the most valuable sections in our existence.

Before i could think twice, i unlatched the gate and stepped into the forbidden woods. The air beyond felt colder, heavier, as though the forest itself was watching me. I crouched beside the wounded man, my hands trembling with fear. His eyes fluttered open for a split second, glazed with pain, and he muttered something i couldnt understand.

´´Its alright´´, i cooed softly, though wasnt sure it was, ´´ill help you´´.

Instincts took me over as i pressed my hands on his wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The weigth of what id done settled over me, the red crimson staining my delicate hands.

His voice rang in my ears, filled with so much agony and everything else seemed to fade into the background. Biting my lip hard i tried to keep myself from crying out as the blood gushed onto my white dress, staining it vermillion.

And when i decided to rip my dress apart in order to save him, it felt as if i ripped myself into two different pieces. I couldnt just leave him behind, everything in my being was fighting against that very thought.

So i crossed the line; I had let him in.

The wounded man wearing a his mask symbolizing the very thing i was trying to save him from. His warm blood was seeping into my clothes, staining my skin red, marking me with the shame i had put over my family.

There was no turning back now, my familys urn left behind, dropped into the dirty soil by the rusted gate,squeaking angirly in the storm that was brewing in the dark summer sky.

[earthlybeam]

Gil-Galad Version below.

🏵️𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

Gil-galad sat at his desk, the flickering candlelight throwing long shadows across the room, illuminating the piles of scrolls and decrees scattered in front of him. The faint crackle of the fire in the hearth did little to break the heavy silence. His quill moved with precise strokes, scratching against the parchment as if the fate of his kingdom was held in each letter. His broad shoulders were tense, and though the weight of his crown was absent, the invisible burden of leadership hung over him like a shroud. He didn’t lift his head when you entered the room, your soft footsteps barely a whisper against the stone floor.

“Ereinion,” you said quietly, your voice filled with gentle concern. The use of his given name was deliberate, an intimate gesture meant to draw him away from the weight of his duty. “It’s late. You haven’t eaten since midday, and you’ve been sitting here for hours. You need to rest.”

He continued writing, the quill moving relentlessly as though your words had failed to reach him. The sound grated against your nerves, but you waited, hoping he might acknowledge you. Finally, without lifting his gaze, he muttered, “I can’t afford to rest. There is too much to do.”

The dismissal was like a stone dropped into the pit of your stomach. You stepped closer, trying to keep your frustration in check. “You always say that,” you replied, your voice firmer now. “But if you don’t take care of yourself, how can you expect to take care of your realm? The people need you healthy and strong, not worn down to nothing.”

For a moment, his quill stilled. The pause gave you hope that he was listening, but that hope was dashed when he carefully set the quill aside and finally looked up at you. His expression was sharp, his piercing eyes betraying no trace of softness. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice measured and cold, laced with the quiet authority that came so naturally to him. “A king does not have the luxury of rest. My people’s safety depends on my vigilance.”

The words landed like a blow, and you felt the sharp sting of them as if they had been aimed deliberately to wound. For a moment, you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. But the ache in your chest quickly turned to a simmering anger. “And what about me?” you asked, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay calm. “Do I not deserve to see you take care of yourself? To know that you’re not driving yourself into an early grave? I’m not asking for much, Ereinion—just that you stop, even for a moment, and remember that you’re more than just a king. You’re—”

“I am only a king,” he interrupted, his voice suddenly sharper, cutting through your words like a blade. He rose from his chair with deliberate grace, his towering presence making the space between you feel smaller and suffocating. His tone grew colder, his control coiling around him like impenetrable armor. “You wouldn’t understand what it means to bear this burden. To lead, to hold the fate of so many in your hands. It is not something you can comprehend.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the air in the room thick with tension. You stood there, stunned and wounded, his words cutting deeper than you thought possible. He had always been composed, always carried the weight of his title with dignity, but this… this was different. The way he looked at you—distant, unreachable—made you feel small, like nothing more than an outsider.

“I wouldn’t understand?” you repeated, your voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and anger. The lump rising in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed forward. “Of course, I wouldn’t. I’m not royalty, am I? I’m just—what? A commoner who can’t possibly grasp the weight of your crown? Do you even hear yourself right now, Ereinion? Do you have any idea how belittling that is?” His jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a thin line as his fists clenched at his sides. “That’s not what I meant,” he said stiffly, but his tone was dismissive, the faintest hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. Yet there was no apology in his words, no softening in his gaze.

“No?” you shot back, stepping closer now, your anger rising like a storm. “Then what did you mean? Because all I hear is that my concern for you doesn’t matter. That my love doesn’t matter. I’m trying to help you, to remind you that you’re not alone in this, and you throw it back in my face like it’s nothing!”

“You don’t understand!” he snapped, his voice rising in rare, uncharacteristic frustration. His hands spread wide as if trying to encompass the weight of the world he carried. “I don’t have the luxury of indulging in weakness. Every moment I waste—every moment I rest—is a moment Sauron grows stronger, a moment my people are put at risk. Do you think I can just abandon my duty because I’m tired?”

“No one is asking you to abandon anything!” you shot back, your voice breaking under the strain of your emotions. “I’m asking you to remember that you’re a person, not just a crown. That you have people who care about you, who need you—not just as their king, but as you. But if you can’t see that—if you can’t even try to meet me halfway—then maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t understand you at all.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering anger. Gil-galad’s face was unreadable, his expression locked behind the stoic mask he wore so often. Yet there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something uncertain, conflicted. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. He simply stood there, towering and unmoving, his fists slowly unclenching.

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. Without another word, you turned away, your heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your footsteps echoed as you crossed the room, your pace quick and unsteady. The sound of the door closing behind you was final, cutting through the silence like a knife.

Gil-galad remained where he stood, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. The echo of your words lingered in the air, reverberating in his mind like a distant tolling bell. For the first time in a long while, the High King of the Noldor felt powerless—not against an enemy, but against the pain he had caused the one he loved most.

…

The silence in the room lingered long after you had gone, leaving only the faint crackle of the dying fire and the distant sound of the sea to fill the void. Gil-galad stood motionless by his desk, his hands resting on the smooth wood as though he needed its support to ground himself. The echo of your words reverberated in his mind, louder than any battlefield roar or council debate he had endured. “Maybe I don’t understand you at all.”

Your voice, trembling with hurt, refused to leave him. He had never wanted to make you feel insignificant. Yet his sharp words, his inability to yield, had done exactly that. He let out a slow, measured breath, his composure faltering as he sank into the chair behind him. For a moment, the High King of the Noldor felt more like a man stripped of his crown, burdened not just by the weight of his realm, but by the realization that he had failed the one person who saw him as more than a king.

You, meanwhile, paced the length of your chamber, your thoughts tangled with hurt and frustration. You replayed the argument in your mind, his dismissive tone, the way he had brushed you aside as though you couldn’t possibly understand the depths of his duty. But what stung most was the distance in his gaze, the way he had spoken to you not as a lover, but as if you were just another voice questioning his authority.

You had seen him at his most vulnerable, shared moments with him when the crown and title had slipped away, and only Ereinion remained. That was the man you loved—the one who laughed with you, who held you close under the stars, who trusted you with his heart even when the world demanded every other piece of him. And yet tonight, that man had been absent, replaced by a ruler too wrapped up in his duty to see what his words had done.

The hours crept on. In his study, Gil-galad sat unmoving, his mind replaying the argument and the pain in your voice. He had spent his life learning to lead, to command, to shoulder responsibility without faltering. But this was a battle of a different kind—a battle not against an enemy but against his own flaws. He closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath as the realization hit him. He had hurt you not because you didn’t understand him, but because he had refused to let you in. And worse, he had made you feel unworthy of standing beside him.

By the time he rose, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon, casting a pale glow across the towers of Lindon. His steps were slow and deliberate as he made his way to your door, the confidence he so often carried replaced with hesitation. He stood there for a long moment, his hand hovering just above the wood before he finally knocked, the sound soft but resolute.

Inside, you paused, your heart leaping at the sound. You hesitated before opening the door, your emotions still raw but tempered by the long hours of the night. When you saw him standing there, his expression softened and unguarded, it was enough to unravel some of the tension in your chest. “May I come in?” he asked quietly, his tone unlike the commanding one he had used hours before. You nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

For a moment, he simply stood there, his towering form casting a shadow in the soft light of the room. Then, taking a breath, he began. “I owe you an apology,” he said, his voice low and measured, but filled with sincerity. “What I said to you last night… it was unkind. And it was wrong.” You crossed your arms, unsure whether to speak or let him continue. He took a small step closer, his composure faltering just enough for you to see the man behind the High King.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re less than you are. You are not just anyone to me. You are my strength, my light, my heart. And last night, I let my fear—my frustration—get the better of me. I spoke to you as though you were an outsider to my world, when in truth, you are the one who keeps me grounded in it.”

The lump in your throat returned, but this time it was different. His words, though raw and imperfect, carried the weight of truth. “I carry this crown because I must,” he continued, his gaze unwavering as he stepped closer still. “But I carry it better because of you. And yet, in my stubbornness, I refused to listen when you tried to remind me of what I already know—that I can’t do this alone. That I shouldn’t.” You looked at him, searching his face for the sincerity you needed to see, and it was there. His usual commanding presence was softened, his eyes filled with regret and something deeper—love, pure and unguarded.

“I can’t take back what I said,” he added, his voice quieter now. “But I can promise you this: I will do better. Not just for myself, but for you. Because you deserve to stand beside a man who values you as his equal, who listens when you speak, and who never forgets that you are more than just a part of his world. You are his world.” The tears you had held back all night threatened to spill over, but you blinked them away, letting out a shaky breath instead. “You really hurt me,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of the emotions you had carried.

“I know,” he replied, his tone thick with remorse. “And I will spend the rest of my days making sure I never do so again.” He reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand found yours. His touch was warm, steady, and when you didn’t pull away, he took it as a sign to step closer. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmured. “Not just in words, but in actions. Let me show you that I value your care, your wisdom, your love. That I value you.”

In that moment, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble. You nodded slowly, and he let out a breath of relief before pulling you gently into his arms. His embrace was firm yet tender, as though he feared breaking the fragile truce between you. For the rest of the morning, the two of you stayed together, the silence between you filled not with tension, but with understanding. Later, when he allowed you to guide him to the table where a warm meal awaited, he finally let go of the crown’s weight—if only for a little while.

As the day stretched on, you walked together along the shores of Lindon, the sound of the waves a soothing balm to your weary hearts. And when he finally looked at you under the pale light of the stars, his hand in yours, he whispered the words that would stay with you forever. “You are not just the one I love. You are my equal, my anchor, my reason to carry on. And I will never take that for granted again.”

[dinthoqaf]

DWC Day 1 Hypnotic/Star

( This is a day late due to being sick, so please forgive the late entry. I wanted to write something a bit different for Dinthoqaf aside from the usual holier-than-thou gloating that he tends to do. Show a side of him that is so rarely seen by others despite the small slivers and glimpses that, I feel, offer a depth to his character that so many rarely ever have the opportunity to see, feel, or imagine. A side of him that helped me fall in love with him as a character and as his potential as one as he grows. I hope this small little piece, gives you all a glimpse of that too. I would also encourage you to listen to the link provided as I hope it sets the stage for later in the shift and it's the name of the musical piece that gave the inspiration that works so well for Day 1's word. )

Silvermoon City. Despite the name her streets, even at night, remained bright like the sun in which the distant well was named for. Tonight was no different as the Bazaar just on the other end of town was positively bursting to the brim with people for the holiday of love soon to come. 'Singles Awareness' as they called it, an event Dinthoqaf had walked through to find familiar faces down on their luck to see what was going on. His intention was not to find a suitor, no, he had a lover, that stroll was to simply take advantage of heartbreak if it was possible. That though, was behind him as he stood under one of the few lampposts in Murder Row. The street was empty, primarily due to the party and event in town, but that made no mind for Dinthoqaf.

No, tonight he waited, knowing full well Zalilirah would find him as she always did. The two of them were connected, linked, in a way that many poets wrote about, young men and women dreamed of, and older lovers hinted towards. Time had no bearing on their connection, nor did time or space, and when it was hinted upon, it always got the same laughter and response from those who never quite understood it all. Dinthoqaf couldn't blame them, it was beyond them, instead, he would take those moments to laugh because it was at times, beyond his grasp in understanding too.

"And do my eyes deceive me? Such a man, alone in this streets? It must be my lucky day..." Zalilirah, The Weaver.

Dinthoqaf was a man who wore a smile amongst many, no two ever the same, but the one that grew upon his face at the sound of her voice was solely for her and her alone. The two of them often met like this, one of them beating the other, catching up about their day, moving into cheeky banter or discussions on topics to come to pass before the night grew old and they would retire. Tonight's procession moved no differently.

Finally, at the turn of the clock at midnight, the two pause for the bells toll, listening before Dinthoqaf offers his arm, much as he always did. "Time for us to make our leave of this place, I think." And as usual, Zali was quick to slipe his own wrist through the loop provided as a void-like portal tore open before them for the two to depart The Row.

What came next wasn't their home though.

Planned, possibly for weeks, months, as materials were gathered, stars were studied, and astromancers and astrologers alike were consulted. Dinthoqaf's standard white, black, and golden attire fades, disappearing in a falling of dust just to unravel to expose a near identical copy of the first tailored suit Zalilirah had gotten him all those years ago when he led his kin from the Sunken Temple out into the world, to become the Headmaster of the Sanctum. Black tailored silks and wool adorned his features in the same quality she'd demand from any tailor with her own orders. His vest, a royal purple that shimmered atop a long tie of matching hues and a blackened button-up shirt to follow. Even the jewelry to adorn him was of polished silver and held amethyst stones that seemed to go far deeper than the settings they sat upon. Zalilirah herself was not spared in this as the mental picture of her came into play with his magics. Her dress, as elegant as she loved them to be, began to fall away only to be replaced with the same violet hues that were akin to Dins own. Silver threads weaving intricately with the care that came at no expense saved to make sure she got exactly what he remembered her in all those years ago when they had been sworn to one another. Her Defiler and his Weaver. Her hair swirled and moved, lifting from her neck and curling as various silver strands and gems appointed themselves atop her crown and features.

No words were needed, there never really were, only moments to fill the silence to distract themselves from the evening's affairs, but now, they were as far away from them as... Well. Azeroth itself.

Beneath their feet where there should have been the stonework of their home and portal way, was now a vast emptiness of The Great Beyond. Azeroth pulls away as Dinthoqaf offers over a bare hand for her to take.

Each step either would make causes ripples, akin to water, to run across the surface they stood upon. Planets, foreign or known and seen, pull through the scenery as he smiles at her. There was no one else in all the rest of the world that mattered at this moment but the woman he put an arm around. Their steps begin as their bodies shift and spin and in a few simple steps, they dance.

Suns flare with light on some distant horizon in the Great Beyond as Nebula's wink, gas giants and clouds spin and flutter, eaten and devoured by black holes, and amongst it all, the only star he could be bothered with noticing was the one he held in his hands at this moment. Their motions come as a rogue comet flies by, her frame losing golden dust and sediment across the dancefloor that swirls and twists about their feet that soon spins off into the cosmos beyond. Then, as the night begins to wrestle into the wee hours of the morning. The stars too begin to fade and all goes dark as a singular star offers its last breaths of light upon the two of them.

Worlds would burn or drown before he would let her go.

( @zalilirah for obvious reasons )

[forcedhesitation]

why should it just be steve who has all the torturous purgatory realm fun?

[velvetvexations]

Granted I do have one thing I've told exactly two people because I'm beyond terrified of it being so cringe as to lower people's respect for me by a significant amount. Like, it's nothing illegal or even illegal adjacent, nothing sexual or anything like that, literally just cringe.

But like, I think if I told you (I'm not going to tell you) you'd be like "oh, yeah, yeah, it makes total sense to be scared of that, obviously, damn."

[arolesbianism]

I was looking at old photos of some of my nuggets yesterday from before I did my first day 1 reset (aka before I got a mod that lets you keep your agents during day 1 resets) and realized that I accidentally remade Eva wrong. Except! Beautiful world! It's actually a good thing because her current back hair was her dead sister's back hair so actually it was intentional from the start and I'm a genius forever <3333

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Holy shit it’s gonna be alright. My parents want a diplomatic, CIVILIZED meeting almost akin to a peace treaty, to occur in a few days.

Yes yes yes yes

[moe-broey]

Homesick for arms that DID hold me but. At what cost.

[icewindandboringhorror]

The evil slow creep of it being like "haha these will just be quick little side quests, not much effort at all!" and then noticing each one is getting progressively longer than the last, thus no longer being minimal effort.. auGh....

[gaytranszoro]

sorry okay im rewatching whole cake w a friend and got obsessed with the vinsmokes this time around okay. sorry. however i am a liker of themes and motifs and doomed characters. sorrey.