#to know the correct answer of exactly what they want as a gift.

[olivyh]

Does nobody in this house knock?

A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a while, and I've been on an Obey Me kick recently- I love these boys so much and they're so fun to write for (although consistently including six/seven people in one story is a bit of a challenge). This is supposed to be read as platonic but could go either way tbh. GN mc as always loves <3

Slight TW: For nudity (nothing serious really happens MC is just taking a bath and the brothers don't know what privacy is)

The House of Lamentation had its ups and downs- of course, the place was massive, which came with a plethora of spaces to crawl into if you wanted a moment of silence or needed a pretty room to study in. The kitchen was just as spacious- you were sure you couldn't use up all the counter space if you wanted to. The architecture was gorgeous and you could stare at the paintings that littered the halls all day (you wouldn't dare, though, after being told that some of them dislike the attention and could curse you if you stare for too long). Similarly, your room was one of your favorite spots in the house (along with Asmo's bathroom, which you were one of the lucky few to get the privilege of using when he wasn't having one of his frequent spa days. You also enjoyed wandering around the mansion (which, sadly, you were banned from doing after getting lost in one of the never-ending hallways and ending up deep underground, leading you to tearfully call Mammon and a house-wide scramble to find you before another one of Levi's rogue pets did). 

The downs were, naturally, the lack of private time. Despite how big the house was, everywhere you went one of the brothers seemed to conveniently be heading in that same direction or even already in that room. Did you want a snack in the kitchen? Beel was three steps ahead of you, and already inviting you out to Madam Screams after he cleans out the fridge. Need to study in the library? Satan just so happened to be going there as well (did he not have enough in his room? You thought almost bitterly at the loss of your time). Wanted to nap in the planetarium? You trip over a passed-out Belphie (why was he sleeping in the doorway?) and end up with a bloody nose from the impact. Wanted to sit in the common room? Levi was already there, playing Devil Cart on what looked like the Devildom's version of a switch with Mammon. If you wanted to study at the dining room table, Asmo would find you and all but drag you to his room for an impromptu game of dress-up. You'd thought going to the eldest would at least leave you alone, opting to study in his office until he'd corrected you on your posture and the way your shirt was hanging loosely off one shoulder more than the other every time, occasionally asking you questions relating to your work and not-so-subtly correcting every wrong answer you'd made (even if you never fully finished the problem). 

The brothers, however, knew that one time of the week was off limits- Saturday nights. You would often slip away and claim the shared bathroom for hours at a time, lighting candles and filling the bath until it was just high enough for you to soak up to your shoulders in. Of course, this was met with very little resistance (especially considering that all seven brothers somehow shared one bathroom with one toilet, which always baffled you. Though, you were certain that Lucifer had one of his own and was neglecting to let the others know). It never clashed with the nights Beel would come back from the gym in desperate need of a shower, or the nights Asmo would stumble back to the house covered in lipstick stains and reeking cheap perfume, or when Mammon would return covered head-to-toe in mud from walking Cerberus. You needed your time, you had told them. And they'd obliged. So, you'd set up a small routine to relax.  

Which was exactly what you were doing. You slip out of your silk robe (gifted by Asmo, naturally) and take a step onto the stool. The shared bathtub was absolutely massive, and you had to shyly ask Lucifer if he had a stool you could use just so you didn't have to climb into the damned thing the first week here. At a distance, it looked normal until... you stepped closer and realized that it wasn't. Although, you supposed it made sense considering how large the brothers were, especially Beel. It was hard picturing him fitting into a normal-sized tub, especially remembering that he struggled to submerge himself fully in the one they already had. Chuckling to yourself, you gingerly lowered yourself into the warm water with a sigh as you feel the pressures of the day melt away into the bubbly water.

The candlelight is the only thing illuminating the room, and the soft sounds of the water splashing against the side of the tub is nearly enough to lull you to a soft sleep if you'd decided to give in to the temptation. The brothers seem to be quieter than usual as well tonight, as you would normally hear some kind of yelling while bathed in the silence of the bathroom. You gently kick your feet in the water and watch as the ripple shines in the gentle candlelight. 

The water in the Devildom had shocked you with its opalescent gleam the first time you'd seen it, worried about drinking it. It had reminded you of the colorful outline left from oil slicks in puddles after it would rain. You were relieved to learn that it wasn't toxic, now basking in the slight glow that it gave your skin and the way it soothed any aches that you had. 

It was the perfect night, but you'd regretted not grabbing a snack to keep with you, or a glass of Demonus to drink while you soaked (even though you wouldn't get drunk and it tasted more like a spicy grape juice, you still felt fancy).

"Oh my stars, hon, you would never guess what happened!" You're shaken out of your thoughts as Asmo's shrill voice rings through the open doorway He makes his way over to the bath, pulling up the chair that sat in the corner of the room and you try to hide your growing annoyance. He leans over the edge of the tub, teasing his fingers in the water and playing with the bubbles. "So I was at the Fall, right-"

"Asmo," You say, a quiet warning. 

"And he really thought he could get away with trying to get between me and this other guy! Like, how dumb could you be? So anyways I turned to him and-"

"Asmo!" The demon pouts, folding his arms on the warm porcelain and resting his head on them, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "I'm naked."

"I'm aware," He huffs, pursing his lips. "I've seen you bare before, love. Even if I hadn't, your body is not unappealing." He winks and you feel your face heat up. "So back to what I was saying-"

"MC!" Another shout and you groan, sinking deeper into the bath. "You're never gonna guess what I just did! I won the horse races! Highest bet, baby!" Mammon pumps his fist in the air as he beams, mussed hair likely from nervously running his hands through it. 

"You're interrupting my story, you ass!" Asmo shouts. 

"This is more important than your dumb story, drama queen!"

"Mammon!" You grumble. "Bathing?" He doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues to pace around the room, recalling every small detail about the race. His keychain clicks against the chains that loop from his belt, the clinking ringing through the room and grating on your nerves even more. Asmo continues to mindlessly play with the bubbles, even raising a soft hand to place a small crown of bubbles atop your head. You take it as a quiet apology from the demon. 

"I finally finished the book you'd asked me about-" Satan, as perceptive as he is, seems to understand your harsh glare from within the bath as he walks confidently through the open door (courtesy of Mammon and his excited forgetfulness). "And I'm aware that this is your time but I simply could not wait another moment-" He sits beside Asmo, nearly pushing the smaller man off the chair. The latter gasps dramatically, rounded lips forming a harsh 'o' shape as he holds his hand over his heart, offended as ever.

"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. 

"You are now," He sneers before slipping open his book, reading through various notes and post-its he left buried within the pages. "Now, this scene in particular really stuck with me, and I'd very much like to hear your thoughts on it. It's when the protagonist-"

"Mc," Another quiet, almost apologetic voice from the doorway. Beel stands, nearly taking up the entire entrance, with armfuls of chips as he empties a bag into his mouth and tosses it into the trash near the sink. "I felt like you were hungry, so I got you something to eat," He holds out another bag and you take it, sighing as you fumble to open it and dig in. 

"Thanks, big guy," He hums before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a still dejected Mammon, offering the older a bag as well. You don't have it in you to be annoyed at the gentle giant, and you were getting a little hungry, after all. 

"Anyways, back to my story-" Asmo begins, filling up the silence. 

"I didn't finish either," The second born growls through a mouthful of chips. 

"Finish eating, and Asmo, you were here first, you did your time and now it's my turn-" Satan shuts both of them down. 

"I wanna tell them about practice-" Beel interjects, moving on to another bag of chips. "I did a really cool move where-"

"Mc!" Another familiar voice joins the fray. "SoIwaswatchingthatshowyoutoldmeaboutandIthoughtitwasreallycoolandthere's-" Levi takes a gasping breath before continuing. "Areallyreallyreallycoolshowcaseonitinthehumanworldcomingupandweshoulddefinitelygo-"

"Levi, sweetheart, please breathe." You remind him, sinking deeper into the bath until it's just your eyes and nose peeking out from the surface of the water, glad that it muffles the sound a bit. 

"We should definitely go and wear matching costumes like the main characters and it'll be really cool and I already have an idea on how to make the props and it'll take a bit of time but we can definitely get it done in time and-"

"Ignore him," Satan sighs. "Anyways, I believe this scene is incredible I mean, did you see the wording in the second to last paragraph? It was so emotional I could hardly believe that he was faking it the whole time and-"

"My love, I never finished telling my story!" Asmo whines, pulling at your knee, which escaped from the water and is exposed to the chill of the air from when you sunk down further. "So then we ordered some Demonus, you know, as you do, and then this song starts playing and he comes back, so Solomon and I look at each other- you know that one look we share sometimes?- yes, that one, so we look at each other and then-"

"Hey, with all the money I just got, we should go shopping, yeah?" Somehow, Mammon had snuck around to the other side of the tub and started pacing on that side, grinning to himself. "I'll spoil ya rotten, I swear. Where do ya wanna hit first? We could go to Majolish, or we could hit that designer store up in the human world ya were tellin' me about-"

Beel continues to sit in silence, but his loud crunching is nearly deafening with all the noise the brothers are making, each of them unwilling to stop talking and wait their turn. 

"Mc-" A yawn. "Here you are-" Belphie stumbles, half-awake (and you weren't even sure of that, with how limbs moved ragdoll-like and the way his eyes were still closed.) "...was looking... everywhere..." He cuts himself with a snore before he falls forward and his stomach collides with the side of the tub, flipping over and landing in the water with you. 

"Belphie!" You shriek, fumbling to simultaneously get as far away from the still-sleeping demon as possible while trying to save him and while also trying to cover yourself from the eyes of the men in the room. 

"You're naked?!" Mammon screams, backing away until his back hits the wall. 

"HUH?!" You hear Levi wail before a thud sounds through the room and, if Satan's snort is any sign, you were sure he'd definitely just passed out and was lying unconscious on the cold tile of the bathroom. 

"Of course they're naked!" Asmo hums. "Who bathes with clothes on?"

"I don't care! Someone get Belphie out right fucking now!" You scramble up the side of the tub, feeling the rough fabric of his cardigan as he surfaces for air, still asleep as he hugs you as close to him as possible, burying his face- or what little you could see of it, with how his soaked hair conceals practically the entire thing- in the crook of your neck and wrapping his legs around your own (you grimace at the feeling of his wet sweatpants against you). Beel comes to your rescue as he attempts to pry his twin's arms off of you and apologizing every time his hands brush your exposed skin. Embarrassment heats your face as you try to squirm away, shouting at Mammon to grab you a towel as more and more water sloshes out of the tub, effectively soaking the pages of Satan's book and smearing some of Asmo's makeup. The former lets out an annoyed grumble as he curses the seventh for falling in and causing a scene in the first place while the latter gasps and rushes towards the mirror to assess the damages done, complaining about how perfectly his makeup was done today and now he was going to have to start all over-

Mammon rushes forward, towel in his extended arm as he slips on the spilled water with a yelp and sends himself flying into the tub as well, landing on top of Beel, who was still attempting to pry Belphie off of you. Beel, shocked by the impact, drops Belphie back onto you and is sent forward by Mammon's weight. Mammon follows close second, leaving you with three demons now in the tub as you try to shove all three off of you. It's difficult for them, as Beel is face-down in the water, his face wedged between your stomach and Belphies, with his legs bent awkwardly out of the tub and Mammon wedged between you and the wall, hands unable to find purchase as he's contorted and squished- not to mention that Belphie's legs had attempted to wrap tighter around your own and had successfully trapped Mammon's arm against your thigh and his face against the space between your shoulder blades, as well as further squishing his twin's face between the two of you. Both your hands are occupied with getting their heads out of the water so they could at least breathe, with two fistfuls of ginger locks and snow-white ones. 

"Everyone out, NOW!" Lucifer's voice rings from the doorway and the room is silent once more. The eldest grabs Beel's collar and pulls him out of the tub, with a grumbling Belphie following close behind (finally awake from the shouting). Mammon follows soon after, skirting out of the room without needing to be asked twice, not concerned in the slightest about how soaked his designer jacket was as you were sure he was going to explode from how red his face was. Asmo and Satan follow close behind, with the fourth-born grabbing a still-unconscious Levi by the ankle and dragging him out of the room. You sigh and sink into what little is left of the water, resting your head against the edge of the tub. 

"Thank you," You sigh. "That was a nightmare." 

"Of course," The firstborn stands still for a moment, clearing his throat. "While I am here, I recently received the scores from the exam that you had taken last week-"

"Lucifer," You glare at the man, eye twitching in annoyance. "Out."

He sighs, turning on his heel and striding out the door, closing it behind him with a click. Finally, in silence, you try to relax once more. 

The pounding of your heart doesn't allow it, though.

Neither do the bruises on your stomach from Beel's hard-as-a-rock forehead, or on your ribs from when Mammon had elbowed you in an attempt to flee, or the scratch on your back from when Beel had tried to separate Belphie from you only to find that the youngest was going to fight tooth and nail to continue your impromptu cuddle session and dug his bitten nails into your skin.

You laugh bitterly- something caught between an annoyed growl and a sob- and slam your fist uselessly against the porcelain. 

You were going to get them back for this.

[thats-godscomma]

Since rewatching Psych, I've been thinking about how weird and arbitrary Shawn's interests are. Sure, late 2000's writing had something to do with it, and maybe a bit of Henry and Gus's influence, but hearing Shawn be so vocal about how he hates certain popular things or (more importantly) refuses to give them a chance BUT at the same time knowing so many pop culture references, it got me thinking.

What if the reason Shawn has so many pop culture references on hand is because of his eidetic memory, and he doesn't actually have as much of an interest in pop culture? Throughout the show, he actively avoids getting roped into big interests and franchises (see: comic books, soap operas, etc.) despite the fact that he genuinely seems excited once he's part of it. In fact, we don't get to see a lot of Shawn's interests at all unless it's based on an idea.

Take being a bounty hunter, for example. According to him, he's obsessed with the idea, but he doesn't make many references to an actual bounty hunter show or franchise. Instead, he just remembers the one bounty hunter he saw as a child and maybe references a movie or two. Because once he remembers something, he's never going to forget it, or at least not for a very long time.

That's why he thinks in references. Everything is a reference if you have a good enough memory. Everything reminds you of something. If Shawn hears someone make a Spock reference, it's in his repertoire forever. But he wouldn't be caught dead watching the shows or movies because that's just too much information. Why on earth would he endure that?

Of course, it also intertwines with his ADHD. He has bouts of energy and trouble focusing. He can't sit still to save his life, and he hyperfixates...or he would if his memory didn't make him averse to it. So if he doesn't want to hyperfixate on an information-based interest, then what does he hyperfixate on? Physical activities. Instead of learning about his favorite daredevil, he tries to be one himself. When he learns about oil rigs, he doesn't get a book from the library. He tries to find oil in his backyard.

This is also where he and Henry differ regarding Shawn's "potential." Henry is correct when he talks about Shawn's "wasted" potential, but he doesn't understand the toil of having this eidetic memory and ADHD. Here's what I think happened: Henry probably noticed Shawn's stellar memory at a young age, realized he has a gift, spoke with his wife about her eidetic memory, learned that you need to challenge your child's eidetic memory at a young age or it'll go away, started the hat game to make it fun and exciting, but then Shawn's ADHD appeared. Suddenly, it made him much harder to raise (because let's be real, Shawn was not an easy child.) Henry didn't know what he was doing anymore, and since it was the 80's, he didn't have the resources to properly understand his kid's behavior, so he tried to find a common interest, and started training Shawn to be a detective "because kids love cop shows." But Shawn struggled to stay attached to one single interest, and when he grew up, he stopped trying to articulate his problems because his mom (the only person who remotely understood his struggles) left, and he blamed his dad for it.

And academics? Those are a joke because what is the point of studying if he already remembers everything? Until, of course, he needs to apply it to a problem-solving test or writing an essay. Suddenly, he's memorizing a math teacher's answer sheet and copying Gus's report.

Yes, Shawn could have been a great cop. He could be an amazing scientist or anything really. He could have been a national spelling bee champion like Gus wanted to be. Even 15 years later, Shawn remembered exactly what word Gus messed up, how to spell the word, and what letter he made Gus slip up, but he didn't want to be on that stage with Gus because that requires so much learning. And so much time. And so much memorizing. And he refuses to sit still for that long when he knows that overloading his head is going to give him migraines.

Also his "I've heard it both ways" probably comes from the fact that people with eidetic memory can still make lots of mistakes if they don't actively commit something to memory. If Shawn only overhears something, he'll still naturally try to fill in the gaps like everyone else, but because he's so confident in his memory, he just believes what he remembers to be true, leading him to repeat incorrect information with confidence. That could also be why some of his references are incorrect due to mixed-up homophones.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about how Shawn is just a walking movie reference because his memory won't let him forget quotes, but then I fell into a rabbit hole of the negative effects of having an eidetic memory as a child, and I am very passionate about how Henry actually tried his best, and people need to stop calling him a horrible parent. Love y'all. Let me know what you think.

[starflirts]

I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU (HOW YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I TURN TO)

in which you and percy must navigate the intricacy of love and glory in the midst of terror percy jackson x ares! reader, wc: 1.8k, warning: violence, description of wounds/blood, note: thank you so much for requesting!!! and yes, i picked the quest members randomly SUE ME

Percy was busy this summer. On top of his daily activities at camp, the Oracle had bestowed on him a particularly tedious quest which he eagerly accepted, not one to miss out on adventure. But the last few days have been tough for everyone. The quest Percy and his friends had taken on proved to be way more demanding than expected and monsters seemed to constantly appear out of nowhere. Looking over his shoulder to ensure everyone was okay, he noticed you trailing behind Annabeth and Thalia, backpack slung over your shoulder. Even with tired eyes and a couple of cuts on your face, you were the prettiest being he’d ever seen.

“I think we can stop here for the night,” his voice cuts into the silence of the early evening. “we’re not far off our destination and if Thalia's mapping is correct we might be a few days early. That’s great news !” 

The rest of the group nodded, each setting down their bags and stretching. “Thalia and I are gonna settle here, call us if you guys need anything.” Annabeth said, to which Percy acquiesced.

As soon as they moved off, Percy's gaze turned to you, sitting on a rock with your backpack on your knees, looking away.  

“Hey angel,” he approached you, one hand brushing your arm before settling himself by your side. “How are you holding up ?”

Looking at him for a brief second, you shrugged, opting to play with your dagger, a gift from your father, the infamous god of war. 

Taking your silence for an invitation to continue, Percy adds: “I can’t believe we made it this far so quickly you know ? Everything is going smoothly and if we get back to camp this early Chiron might see us fit for another outing !” 

His words feel like pit scorpion stingers and you close your eyes, huffing through your nose. That's when he notices how taut your shoulders are. He frowns, attempting to meet your eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong ?” he tentatively rubs your back. “Do you need anything ? I might have a few snacks Grover packed before we left..”

The mention of your friend back at camp half-blood makes your stomach clench. You miss Grover, you miss camp. Hades, Mr D’s stupid shirts are even starting to grow on you. This quest seemed to go on forever and you wished Percy wouldn’t be so stubborn about it. Putting your stuff away you sigh, looking up towards the stars slowly coming out of hiding. “I don’t need anything Percy.” you answer dryly. 

You can see him from the corner of your eye, looking at you skeptically. “Is this because we’re still on the road ? You know the worst is over, I think we’re in the clear about monsters and all… And then, if everything goes exactly as planned we’ll be back at camp in a couple of days.”

You press the heel of your hands against your eyes, as if his voice was enough to give you a headache. “I don’t care, Percy. I don’t wanna know about that stupid plan or those stupid monsters. The quest is the only thing that has been coming out of your mouth ever since Chiron told you to go talk to the Oracle. Even when we’re at camp you only seem to care about going away !” you finally snap, staring at him crossly. 

Percy’s confused, you can see it in the way his brows furrow. “Listen, it’s- it’s important, okay ? These quests, these prophecies, they’re vital if you want to prove yourself, to grow stronger ! How do you think we’d be doing in the real world without this ?”

You sigh, toying with your bracelet, a gift your boyfriend had given you last summer. “That’s not what I meant Percy ! You’re just so… You give your all to all of this and I understand, I admire you for that ! But it sucks to see you risk everything so often, to see you come back all hurt and bruised.” 

“Would you like it better if I stayed at camp and did nothing then ?” it’s his turn to get upset, arms crossed as he stares at you. 

“No ! Of course not ! I just wished you knew how to take care of yourself and others at the same time ! You’re all up in your head sometimes, barely acknowledging me, or anyone else for that matter !” you let out an annoyed laugh. 

“Oh so you’re mad because we can’t hang out like we used to ? Come on, you know how serious that is ! Of course I care about you but this is important too !”

You scoff, turning away from the boy. “Glory is important to you, I get it ! It’s what runs in your blood. But why can’t you see how it affects others, me ?”   

Percy runs a hand in his hair, obviously distressed. He calls out your name, a hint of dejection in his voice. “I think the journey has taken a toll on you. We should talk about it, about us ! You don’t mean that.” he reaches out but you step away. “Yeah, right. Is there even an us right now ? Maybe I’m just a hindrance. You’d definitely do greater things without me pestering you” you breathe out, angrily wiping your eyes. 

Your words slice his heart and you can see a twinge of sadness in his eyes. “Come on–”

He barely has time to finish this sentence when Annabeth yells from behind: “Watch out !” Briskly turning around, the boy is faced with two enormous hellhounds. Drawing out his beloved Riptide, Percy slashes the air, attempting to get the monsters to back off. When the two creatures jump forward instead, Percy’s mind goes blank. He can only think about everyone’s survival. In his line of vision, he can see Annabeth and Thalia actively defending themselves. But he can’t see nor hear you and that’s enough to make his heart beat ten times quicker. He can’t afford to diverge his attention right now but he knows you, he knows you can put up a fight. You’re not the pride of Ares’ cabin for nothing after all. 

One down, Percy thinks as his sword pierces through the monster’s fur. Brushing off the dust sticking to his face with bloodied knuckles, he turns around in horror as he hears a bloodcurdling scream. Your scream. His feet drive him to you as fast as they can, only to find you wrestling with the remaining hellhound on the ground, its fangs sinking into your flesh. 

Percy sees red. He lunges at the creature, weapon raised. Within a few minutes, what remains of the monster is the flickering black dust disappearing in the moonlight. Out of breath, Percy rushes to your side when he notices you’re not getting up. 

“Hey hey ! It’s over, you’re- you're okay.” His hands on your shoulders, “C’mon, we gotta get you up.” He tries to get you in a seating position but the whimper you let out makes his heart clench. You grab his shoulder with a shaky hand, throat prickling as you attempt to tell him something. 

“Hurts Percy��it hurts…” and that’s when he notices the gash on your lower stomach, shirt ripped to shreds and blood dripping down. A wave of nausea hits him but he holds on, applying pressure on your wound. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re- we’re gonna get you back to camp, we’re gonna help you. Just… Just talk to me yn, don’t close your eyes.” Percy’s hands shake as he tries to keep you conscious while Thalia and Annabeth fumble around him with a makeshift stretcher. 

Even now, Percy is still amazed at how fast they all ran back to camp, guilt plaguing his mind as Chiron and a couple of dryads took your inert body and carried you to the infirmary. 

The next few days are awful. Percy’s at the edge of your bed night and day, feeding you nectar and ambrosia, dabbing the sweat off your forehead when you strike up a fever, helplessly watching a kid from the Apollo cabin change your bandages. When you finally come out, he’s sat at the edge of your bed, head in his hands. 

The sun peaking out from the closed curtains is still too bright when you open your eyes. You frown, slowly raising your arm to cover them. The rustling of sheets has Percy whipping his head in your direction and even in your daze, you can see his shoulders sag with relief.

“Hey…” he says softly. 

“Wha– what happened ?” you speak out, voice husky.  

He’s sitting next to you within seconds, hand gently holding yours. You can see he’s trying really hard to find the right words, to tell you exactly how his nightmare played out. “We…We were on the way back to camp after our quest. We were all exhausted and- and we fought… I’m so sorry yn,” he pauses, voice shaky. “We didn’t have time to talk things through… Two hellhounds appeared out of nowhere and by the time I turned to look for you I– I  saw you on the ground. You were fighting the monster but he got you really bad and when he was gone I wanted to see if you were okay and– and you weren’t.. There was so much blood and you were in so much pain and–”

You squeeze his hand twice, cutting him off. He looks at you and this time you can clearly see the tears forming at his lash line. 

“It’s okay Percy,” you smile weakly, thumb drawing circles on his skin. “We made it, you made it.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “No, no it’s not. I was terrified when we brought you here. I was mad at myself for fighting with you and I was so, so scared to lose you. I kept repeating our last interaction in my head and thinking that those words might’ve been our last made me realize how stupid I am for not noticing how I hurt you. You’re right. I get too much in my head. And… I can’t do anything when I’m not with you. I know this might sound silly but I need you with me all the time.”

You let out a small chuckle. “It’s fine Percy. I am partially to blame too y’know… I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I– I didn’t mean what I said. Of course there’s still an us. I guess I got too much in my head too.” you smile at him sheepishly. “And I hope you know I wouldn’t deal so nicely with any of this demigod bullshit if you weren’t by my side all the time.” you add with a mischievous smirk and Percy’s heart swells. 

Resting his forehead against yours, his hands are on your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “We’ll be alright angel. We’ll always be alright as long as we’re together.”

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life 5 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: Family time was a need at the moment. And it was time reader meet one more member of the family. But the meeting of the two wasn't really friendly.

(A/N: Hey, sorry. Imma keep this short. So, the reason I couldn't post was cuz me n a friend was playing around too much, and my laptop broke cuz she decided to go all WWE on my ass, and I forgot the password for this acc. But it's fixed now. So, this chapter will be a late X-mas gift from me)

Part 4, Part 6

Damian was getting rather attached to you.

You were nothing like him. To Damian, you were weak, silly and peaceful. You just seemed so peaceful. And satisfied with just the littlest things.

The air around you just seemed inviting. Safe even.

Damian must admit he didn't like you at first, you just always seemed off to him. The lying you were doing, the fake and empty words. He didn't trust you.

But that day Joker attacked. The He saw so much of you. The real you. He saw you sad at the album store, just for a moment. But it was long enough to see. And your laughter. Your laugh and smile before were very annoying to Damian. Only because you only would smirk and snicker at him out of mockery.

But the movie made you laugh. Really laugh, really smile. At him mostly- but it was real!

Damian, he won't admit it, but he liked it when you were being yourself. And there are times he has seen you far away. Like your body was present, but your mind and soul seemed to be elsewhere. Even if you were engaging into a conversation. It was like someone completely different was speaking. Not you.

So, to bring out the real you. Damian would come with excuse of being board and having nothing better to do, and watch movies with you. Just to see you laugh, sad, angry. Just to see you.

You stared at the box on your nightstand. What was it exactly? You wanted to open it. But what if it's something you won't like. Something that will upset you more than needed.

"What is that?" Damian spoke. The boy practically came out of nowhere. But your used to it at this point. The boy is like a ninja, always sneaking up on you.

You sighed and turned your chair to start your school work.

"A box. . ." Even with your back turned from the boy. You had the urge to remind Damian not to touch it. "A box that you will not open." You turned your head to see you were correct. You had a box cutter in his hand, ready to open the box up. How or where did he get that box cutter from? You don't know, nor do you want to know.

Damian plopped down on your bed and started to examine the box. "Who was it from?" Damian saw no name to whom had sent the box.

". . . an old college of mine." You answered nice and short. Already feeling angry at the thought of Jess even knocking on your uncle and aunt's door to give the box to them.

Damian hummed and set the box down. He got up and started to go through the crates of albums you had near your bookshelf. He picked one and walked over to the vinyl player that was close to the window, near you, and started to let it play.

You smiled to yourself as Damian walked back to your bed.

Damian was trying to know what was in the box. Shaking it, knowing the wight and try to think of something that was the same size and wight that could be in the box.

It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

You took a glance to check why Damian was so quiet.

You let out a sigh when you saw him passed out. You stood up and walked over to the bed and use a blanket to cover him. You took the box away and sit back down at your desk.

It was time you had to open it. You used your super strength to open the box with ease. Once you saw what was in the box. You let out a tired sigh and leaned back in your chair.

It was a watch. The one the society uses. You see a note besides the watch. You shook your head and opened up the note what was addressed to you.

Call if you need help.

-Miguel

You crumbled the note and threw it away. And cursed to the man.

"Hijo de puta. Vete al diablo."

Unknown to you. Damian was still awake. He watched you get angry at whatever that note said. And the boy isn't that fluent in Spanish, but he does know whoever it was, you're not fond of them. On top of that.

You're hiding something. And Damian wants to get down it.

The next day, you skipped happily to the kitchen to get your fourth cup of coffee. "Another cup I see, not sleeping well Lady Y/n?" Alfred spoke. You giggled and held the warm cup close to you.

"Just need a boost. Hey, Damian said something about a dinner with everyone. Is there a special occasion?" You asked.

"Ah, yes. There is someone you weren't able to meet. Master Jason. He is available for tonight's dinner to finally meet you."

"Oh, I see. Oh, Alfred can you tell Bruce that I'm going to be out with a friend. Do you think that's okay. I leave in half an hour." You gave him a sheepish smile.

Alfred gave you a soft smile and nods "I'll inform him."

You got to your room and dressed up. You put the watch on and tapped the screen. And information of an anomaly that has been causing trouble showed up.

You walked to your bathroom and opened the cabinet. You cracked open the stash you had behind the meds and other items. That was where you hid your suit.

Just looking at it. The patterns, colors, the memories. You quickly stuffed the suit back into the stash.

"I can't do this. I can't do this." You shut your eyes tight, gripping hard on the sink. You tried to focus on your breathing to try and calm yourself, but the more you focused on your breathing, the more you noticed how fast your breathing was, which caused you to panic.

"Please. . . No, no, no. Please!" Your felt tears well up. Causing you to panic more. You began gasping for air. Trying to breath. Trying to calm yourself. But the moment you exhaled. You began sobbing. Your sobbing caused you to be frustrated at yourself. Your frustration made you cry more. You threw the bag that had your suit against the wall.

Unknown to you, a Polaroid picture of your mother slipped out.

As you were having your moment in the bathroom. Bruce had entered your room. He knocked and called out for you. But you didn't respond. So, he entered your room and didn't see you in your room.

He was confused, because Alfred had told him you were in your room. Before Bruce left to check to check if you were elsewhere. He heard something from your bathroom.

it didn't take long for him to instantly hurry to your bathroom and enter.

And there, he saw you on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably with your hands covering your face. Worry took over him as he slowly approached you.

"Y/n?" He spoke softly. But a little too soft, you couldn't hear him due to your crying and desperate attempts to breath normally.

He took another slow step closer. And something on the ground caught his eye. At first, it was the bag, then, his eyes slowly made its way to the Polaroid picture of your mother. He picked it up. He stared at it, then stared at you.

And to him, he understood. He understood all too well.

"Y/n. you're okay. You're okay." He gently put his hand on your shoulder. You flinched away, when you look up to see Bruce, you were confused. But all he did was smile at you softly and sat right next toy on the bathroom floor.

"Just breath. Okay, breath." You kept eye contact with him as he said these words. He rubbed circles on your back as he began to have you follow his breathing.

And to your surprise, and relief, it was working. You felt so, venerable. Usually, you hated feeling that way. But with your father, you felt. . . safe, to be venerable.

No words were spoken for a long moment between you two. Until you whispered

"I'm sorry." You were apologizing for this situation you had caused. But all your father did was rub your back.

"I understand," Was all he said.

"I understand"

That small moment had brought you and Bruce closer. A somewhat mutual understanding. It honestly felt like an invisible vail had been lifted between you to.

It took you an hour or so to get it back together. You left to deal with the anomaly. Just without your suit. You had an all-black disguise on, Gotham was dark and gloomy, so it was easy to blend in.

Now you're in an abandoned school, fighting off a green goblin anomaly. He was small, and nasty. Got on your damn nerves that's for sure. Once you defeated the green goblin. You open the portal and just threw the anomaly in and closed the portal.

You let out a loud, exhausted sigh.

"I swear. I have bones of a 60-year-old- ack! Jusus. . ." You had stretched and it hurt badly. Mainly your bad and knee hurt.

Suddenly. Your Spidey senses spiked up. You quickly jumped to your left and glared into the dark corridor.

"That was interesting to Watch." A voice spoke from the dark corridor. A figure emerges from the dark.

Revealing a tall man with a very noticeable red helmet that looked more like a mask.

You frown underneath your own mask.

"And you are?" You spoke up.

The masteries man spoke again, more aggressively. But this time. You hear a clicking sound. A gun. Pointed right at you.

"This is my city. And I wanna know why your here, Spider-woman."

[murainhell]

Helluva Boss Spoilers!

The longer it's been since Full Moon was released, the more I think I like the fight. The writing and acting is incredible, they have done a fantastic job.

I know some people have taken my drawing as Blitzo being the one who acted wrong, while my friends think I'm blaming Stolas because I defend Blitzo when they complain about him. But no, I'm not taking sides. They are both wrong and at the same time right and their reactions are perfectly justified. They are two complex characters with complicated traumas that are clashing at the worst time. As a psychologist, I'm loving all of this. 

All of Stolas' opening dialogue is correct. You can tell he's been thinking about it for a long time, practicing, figuring out exactly what he wanted to say. That's great. The only problem is that when you practice a conversation, in your head nobody answers you. There were two possible outcomes, that Blitzo would say yes and they would see what happens after that together, or that he would reject him and there was no longer any reason to continue the conversation.

But Blitzo reacts in a way he didn't expect. Blitzo begs him not to change anything. “I can do better.”

The entire HB team has done a brilliant job of letting us feel Blitzo as a kid saying the same thing to his father. By now he is flooded by his own trauma. He doesn't accept the gift, he wants everything to stay the same. He wants the book, because:

It's something that works for them, it's something that is simple, why change it? Changing it is uncharted territory, and his past relationships have been complicated. But Stolas doesn't really know about those relationships.

Having the book is an excuse to see each other, it's a chain that binds them together as long as Blitzo needs it for his work. It means Stolas won't abandon him, they have a deal. But for Stolas that same tether is unbearable, because he knows what it's like to be tied down in a relationship, he's suffered the effects of that with Stella, and that means he's condemning Blitzo to the same situation, turning him into the monster he feels he is. But Blitzo doesn't really know that.

Believing it's a lie, a role-play, hurts Stolas, but how to blame Blitzo when he believes he's unlovable? He hates himself, how can Stolas be serious?

And I was hurt when Stolas said that for Blitzo it's always about sex... Bird boy, that's all he knows with you. And you know he thinks you're only there for the sex too, he tells you that in S1E7! Use your words to make him understand!!! 

But Stolas believes that everything he is witnessing is the answer. And he gives up. He's saying goodbye... ready to disappear from Blitzo's life, abandoning him when he can't give him what he asks for, when he's not enough. 

The reaction of both is understandable: Blitzo is ready for a fight (his way of communicating), he reacts poorly to the fact that Stolas is sending him out of his life because in the end he's confirming that rich people are like that, he's been a plaything for a while and now he's left behind; Stolas shuts down, he reacts poorly because he's been suffering yelling and hitting things and insults from Stella for years. 

And it breaks my heart. “Just look my way” Stolas, he's doing it. Blitzo is screaming and crying but he's looking at you. He's mad, but you just have to listen to him. Really listen to him. Because Blitzo has every right in the world to be upset, everything he says is true.

Stolas has dropped an emotional bomb on him, one he wasn't prepared for because in his head no one would want that with him. And then, without giving him time to process, to think, he's dismissing him.

He charges his fury at the social rift between them, but it's just that that difference has existed for as long as he can remember. Blitzo was sold to be a playmate for Stolas. Their relationship began within an abuse of power, where Blitzo sells his body for the book. Stolas is privileged enough not to have thought of any of that until now. It's not that he thinks badly of Stolas (although in his eyes, Stolas is confirming it by sending him away, he's a broken toy), it's facts. They need to put them on the table to grow. 

But Stolas is also within his rights not to listen when that's the tone he's using with him. He's using his coping mechanism to endure the fights with Stella. Blitzo is also confirming his worst fears; sending him away, removing that source of emotional damage he's suffering, is understandable, though by doing that he robs Blitzo of the opportunity to choose and make himself heard. 

Still, they needed this fight. Let's face it, they were not at all in a situation to start a serious relationship. They need it to know what they want, spend time without obligations and chains (as free equals) and to have space to have a real conversation. Because they don't talk, they don't have emotionally vulnerable conversations, where they can understand why the other is the way they are. 

I firmly believe they're going to figure it out. I believe in them. But we'll have to wait. In the meantime, don't hate any of them for reacting like complex souls.

Let's be Team Stolitz.

[meanbossart]

What would DU drow do if a random kid saw him as an idol? Like in a way that the kid wants to be like him when their older?

What the hell, this is the ask that inspired this drawing and I thought it had vanished because, for whatever reason, it only appears when I look at the inbox through my phone 🤷🤷🤷 well might as well answer it now!

Well, I'm not sure what would lead a child to see him as an idol. In my mind, himself as well as his main party went as unsung heroes following the defeat of the brain. Word spread within small pockets but very few people know Exactly who they are, and the papers didn't feel too compelled to sing a Drow, a Vampire, and a Sharran praises on the front page. I'm sure they attributed the feat to Jaheira and the more palatable members of the group. Our crew is fine with that.

But if a kid caught him doing something cool, or just happened to gravitate to him for whatever reason, he would be... Really nice, actually LOL

He's not gifted with patience or has much experience with children, but in most cases he just sees them as innocent beings that should be spared the worse of his attributes. He'd say the right thing, and he'd say it plainly - then move on to do the opposite, probably. Just try to be a good influence on someone who still has a chance.

He's probably one of those people who children either find really boring or become really captivated by. Kids love weird guys who talk to them like they're fully realized beings, I hear - they just gotta deal with the occasional half-hearted attempt at behavioral correction if they wanna hang out with the huge cool looking Drow.

Also, he thinks being a mom looks really hard. He's happy to make one's life a little easier if he can by steering their kid in a slightly more agreeable direction LOL

[itsajollyjester]

yessss that defo answers my questions! ur thoughts on compassion & community intertwined w rebellion definitely show up in ur art lol. something more specific i have been curious abt is ur version of the endings of each specific hunger games & ur characterization/portrayal of the victors at those points! if u have any more thoughts abt any of those characters or their games id love to hear.... im also very not neurotypical abt hunger games

For sure!! But this is a novel and a half so I apologize in advance (also most of this is from memory so anyone can correct me if I'm getting any details wrong)

((TW: For visual depictions of Blood, Gore, and Wounds))

I realized I'd seen barely any art showing what the victors would have looked like when they won their games. They were all just kids and I feel like it can be easy to forget that sometimes

For all of them, I made the background one of their main "weapons" but tried to make it look like its turning back on them instead since there are no victors as Haymitch said.

I'll try to explain them all more in depth individually going in the order I drew them:

Finnick Odair, 65th Games:

His main weapons were his trident and nets that he made with vines. His background is one of the nets ready to trap him.

Finnick was the youngest victor ever at only 14. I really really wanted to emphasize just how little that is. (Especially since we know exactly why the Capitol loved him from the start…) Once I actually drew him looking that little I had to step away for a bit because I made myself too sad…

Outside of just how horrific his age is as a concept, I tried to think about what circumstances would lead to him actually winning when surrounded by older tributes. I think he would have had to avoid any kind of fight he didn't have the upper hand in. We know that he got the most expensive sponsor gifts in the history of the games (a trident), so he probably got plenty of sponsors outside of that as well. Because of that I doubt he needed to go looking for supplies much if ever so it was easy to avoid people there. He was also probably in a career pack, despite his age, due to his training and his popularity, and they would have hunted other tributes down together much like the one we saw in the first book (safer in numbers). Once it was narrowing down and the pack broke is when I think he started catching people in nets. All of that is a long winded way of saying that's why, unlike the other victors I drew, I only show him with minor cuts and bruises.

Originally I was going to draw him with a kind of strained smile like he was acting for an audience from the start. But I decided I actually think its sadder if he believed he was popular because of his skill and strategy as a fighter and only learned the whole truth after he won and that's when he started acting more for the camera. Instead I gave him a more muted despair kind of look, like his world is crashing down. One of my favorite parts about the movies, mainly THG and ABOSAS, is when they give the career tributes at the end a moment of realization about what they've done, and I wanted to give Finnick his. I'm a person that believes Finnick had to have volunteered for his games. I think he would have legitimately believed in the propaganda the career districts were fed and had a bit of a (very middle school boy) ego about his abilities. (I was NOT expecting to write so much about his lmao)

Enobaria, 62nd Games

She's most well known for ripping someones throat out with her teeth. (Her background is her sharpened teeth getting ready to eat her.) This is treated by The Capitol, and by Katniss, as grotesque and terrifying blood lust (Which obviously the Capitol loves her for). However, and I'm not at all the first to say it, that sounds more like a terrified and desperate attempt to survive a fight she was losing and an example of hysterical strength. We know that Career packs have had bloody betrayals in the past and I can see Enobaria being a part of one of them. Enobaria doesn't have a canonical age, but I decided to put her on the younger side (15 or 16.) I can imagine some of the older, bigger tributes deciding she was the weakest link towards the end and that was the result. I tried to make the blood around her mouth and down her shirt look more faded, like she tried desperately to wipe it off (Also I had to step away from drawing again after I drew her little tooth gap)

I think she probably leaned into the bloodthirsty image afterwards as a way to protect herself and (maybe even started to believe it too)

Annie Cresta, 70th Games

Annie's known for losing her mind after seeing her district partner decapitated in front of her. After that, she ran off and hid until the game makers started an earth quake, which made the large dam in the arena break and cause a huge flood. Annie was the only survivor because she was the strongest swimmer. So I decided to make her background dark water that's churning up and over her head. I also think it can work well as a way to show her mental state in the moment (and afterwards) Annie is actually one of my favorite characters in the series and I've been writing out a plan for a possible comic series about her that'll go more in depth about my headcanons for her. (when I say comic series, I mean sketches and oneshots, not a full thing lmao) It wouldn't take place during her games (outside of a few flashbacks when I need more context), instead it would start at her Victory Tour and go into her first (and last) year as a mentor for the 71st Games. Which is a perfect segue to-

Johanna Mason, 71st Games

Johanna is actually first mentioned early on in the first book when Katniss is wondering if the reason Peeta is crying is because he plans to act weak and helpless as a strategy in the games. (Katniss, he just found out he has to fight in a murder tournament with his crush. He's just Sad.) She bases her theory on Johanna, who pretended she was a "sniveling, cowardly fool" in the arena until the final stretch of the games when she proved to be deadly with an axe.

OR….. Katniss is an unreliable narrator and Johanna was actually a terrified kid from a district with so few victors that she was the only name in the bowl for the Quarter Quell… This is totally just a personal headcanon of mine tho lol. I think there would have been a point in her games where she realized she actually had a chance and that's when she seemingly had a huge character turn around. Maybe there was a infighting with the careers that ended in multiple deaths and there was only a few left along with any other tributes hiding away like her. Maybe she poked around what was left of their camp, found the axe, and felt strength from her district.

Her background was a little harder for me. Just slapping a big axe behind her felt cheesy. But them I remembered her saying there was no one left that she loved. So instead I put trees that could represent her loved ones (Two fully grown trees, a younger "teenage" tree, and a sapling) that are in the process of being cut down.

Haymitch Abernathy, 50th Games

Don't worry, I'm almost done. I don't have as much to say about Haymitch since we know SO much about what happened in his games. But his background was probably the hardest for me. His main weapon was invisible after all. I thought maybe the axe that was used, but again, That would look cheesy. I tried (and kinda failed imo) to draw the cliff side the force field was on instead. But the main thing I did was split the three panels I had on the previous drawings into six for two reasons. 1: Because he had to face twice as many tributes in order to win and 2: Being the only victor of a district that's tributes are seen as fodder for the blood bath means he had to meet and watch the death of twice as many kids every year.

[aphroditelovesu]

Would you do [💝] for a rhaenyra x reader x daemon please?

❝💝❞ - ‘’I have a gift for you. Open it, it's the heart of the one who dared to flirt with you.’’

tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, murder, slight description of murder, blood, dubious gifts, incest (?) and polyamorous relationship.

Were you lying in your room that you shared with your lovers? Maybe, you weren't exactly sure what the three of you were. Maybe husband, wife and husband/wife? It's a little tricky being married to two people at the same time.

But the correct term would be that you were married, although Westeros policy does not allow polygamy, you were married in a traditional valyrian ceremony where polygamy was allowed. In the eyes of some this marriage is invalid and outrageous, but for others, normal and valid.

This whole thing was exhausting at times. You are often grateful to be married to the one you love, but sometimes you just want to run away when their overwhelming and possessive behavior becomes too much to handle.

Sometimes you wish you could feel the freedom you had before you met them. You wish you had enjoyed it more, but instead, here you are, lying bored in your room.

"How boring." You grumbled, finally working up the courage to get up and decide to walk around Dragonstone for a bit. You were at least allowed to roam this place because Daemon and Rhaenyra know you're safe here.

The walk through Dragonstone was quite peaceful, you were greeted by some people who were surprised to see you unaccompanied. It wasn't common, but you just smiled and answered them politely. You finally made it out of the castle and outside, getting a breath of fresh air for the first time in a while. The weather looked good and you were sure you wouldn't have any problems if you moved away a little.

Too bad you were wrong.

It was fun out here, you thought. You were so distracted that you didn't notice someone approaching you and when they touched your shoulder, you looked back scared, but you calmed down when you saw who it was. You recognized him as one of the guards you talked to sometimes.

"What are you doing here, lady/lord (Y/N)? They won't be happy to hear about this." The guard spoke, looking at you softly and kindly. You smiled.

"Just getting some fresh air. Don't worry, Ser Arthur. They won't mind." Or at least you hoped they weren't.

He didn't look very convinced, but he smiled politely at you.

"If you think so, then I'll leave you alone. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

"Of course, don't worry." And with a quick wave, he bid you farewell.

You've spent a few hours outside the castle, just taking your time and enjoying your own company. You only came back because you were informed that Daemon and Rhaenyra had asked for your presence and they seemed impatient about something.

You took a deep breath, before finally entering the room they were in. Daemon and Rhaenyra instantly turned when they heard you approach and smiled.

"(Y/N)!" Rhaenyra called you, approaching you and hugging you tightly. "Are you alright?"

She looked worried, but you didn't understand why exactly.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. What happened?" She stopped hugging you, but stayed by your side.

Daemon approached you with a sneer and it worried you. And your concern increased even more after seeing a sizable box in his hands.

"What is it?" You asked, even though you weren't sure you wanted to know the answer.

"Oh. That? I have a gift for you. Well, why don't you find out what it's?" He looked at you with determination in his eyes, holding out his arm so you could take the box.

"Come on, (Y/N)! Open it, it's the heart of the one who dared to flirt with you." Rhaenyra smirked, exchanging knowing glances with Daemon.

You started hesitantly to open the box upon hearing her answer and when you saw what was inside you felt sick.

What the fuck was this? Is this some kind of sick joke?

Why the hell was a heart, you assume, human being in that box.

"You liked it?" Daemon questioned, kissing your cheek lightly. "It wasn't easy killing him, you see? He was strong enough and determined to live, but I am stronger and my desire for you won out." He whispered in your ear.

"Why? Who?" Were the only words you managed to say, still in shock. But maybe you shouldn't be surprised, this wasn't exactly the first time you've received a gift like this because of the jealousy of your loves.

But now it didn't make sense. Nobody had flirted with you. At least that's what you remembered.

"You know damn well it was, love." Rhaenyra answered seriously. "None of this would have happened if you had decided to stay here. You brought this on yourself."

You thought for a moment, the only person you actually had a small talk with today was... Ser Arthur Crain.

"He didn't do anything wrong!" You tried to defend him, even though it was too late.

"Oh, he did. He committed a serious crime." Daemon responded coldly. "He dared to flirt with what didn't belong to him. He dug his own grave for it."

"Ser Arthur-" You were suddenly cut off after being grabbed by Daemon and slammed against a nearby wall.

"Don't say his name." He snarled, furious. Rhaenyra also looked upset, but she tried to remain calmer.

"Daemon, let them go." She said and, hesitantly, Daemon released you.

"You are ours, (Y/N), just as we are yours. We belong together and he, Ser Arthur Crain, tried to take you from us and that we cannot forgive." Rhaenyra spoke, approaching your figure and kissed you gently.

"But he didn't flirt with me..."

"No? We heard what the witnesses said and you were smiling with him, right?" You didn't deny it. "And it shows he wanted you." Daemon replied, laying his head against yours.

"But no one will ever take you away from us." He growled, turning your head and kissing you hard. You moaned into the kiss and when you broke apart you took a deep breath.

"For you are ours and we are yours. Forever." Rhaenyra said, kissing you again.

You knew that they were already crazy about you and that they didn't hesitate to kill for you, but you didn't expect that a simple short and friendly conversation would turn into what you imagined has been a cruel murder.

You shuddered in the possessive grip of your loves. That was the cruel truth of your relationship, no one was safe from Daemon and Rhaenyra, not even you. There's no getting out of it.

You are stuck with them forever.

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (4): The Only Thing That I See

a/n: ok this is the one i warned you guys was horny but i'm sure its actually to our benefit. this is setting up the next couple big plot pieces: harding's arrival and his past with cass, john demoting himself to fly again, cass' next mission and a whole lot more. happy to chat about any of it//we had a great little sleepover in my inbox and i saved a couple to answer over the next few days. more interludes in the chute, submissions still open, and a new masterpost pinned to my blog. happy reading!

When Mary knocked on Cass’ door before the sun was out and warned her it was pancakes for breakfast, it meant the men were flying today. She was looking forward to this raid in particular as the coordinates for the U-boat pens had been passed to her by a new potential source during a previous trip to Belgium. Surveillance planes had confirmed their location but it meant that Colonel Huglin would want her to brief prior to wheels up. John wasn’t flying but he would be watching. She wanted to impress him. Offer him a little bit of insight into the work that she did. Show him the bumps and bruises were worth it if it brought the war to an end even a moment sooner.

He wasn’t outside waiting for her to get breakfast and her heart fell but she knew he was busy. A piece of her was curious what John Egan, Air Exec behaved like. She imagined he was more stoic and held quite the presence. Or maybe he was exactly the same and more of a pain in the Colonel’s side than anything else. Cass smiled to herself as she walked toward the HQ offices. Yeah, that definitely seemed more like her John.

----

He was rifling through papers when she entered the bullpen, calling out headings to the navigators and dodging orderlies delivering cups of coffee. She dropped her jacket off at her desk without anyone noticing and approached the map with small airplanes meant to simulate the raid. 

“A few degrees to the east, gentleman. Otherwise, you’ll miss the last loading dock.” Her fingers nudged the group of planes in the correct direction then she stepped back and let the stares wash over her. Deep breaths, Cass. You know you’re right.

“Gentlemen, surely you’ve all at least heard of Lieutenant Cooper. She is the one responsible for locating these pens for today’s raid.” Some of them nodded with respect, others rolled their eyes or scoffed. Most of them seemed ambivalent. 

“I’ll be at my desk should any questions arise, Colonel.” Yet all of them could agree on staring at her backside as she walked away. 

“You make a habit out of embarrassing the brass the morning of a raid?” She paused her typing with a smile and walked around her desk to meet him in the doorway. There were wildflowers behind his back and she gripped his chin to pull him down for a kiss. 

“Good morning, Major.” John hummed with pleasure before going back in for one, two, three more kisses. 

“Morning, doll.” His voice was huskier at this hour than she was used to. It sparked right between her legs. “You thought I forgot?” He produced the flowers from behind his back and handed them to her. As she did every morning, she brought them to her nose and blushed like a schoolgirl. 

“First mission as Air Exec. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.” John stepped deeper into her office, closing the door behind him, as she tucked the latest bouquet into a vase on her desk that was already filled with his previous gifts. 

“Would feel better if I was going up as a squadron commander.” 

“You would say that.” Cass jumped up onto her desk, welcoming John between her legs with some light scratches on the back of his neck. “I, for one, am happy you’ve got two feet on the ground today.”

“That’s very selfish of you, Lieutenant Cooper.” He stepped closer and kissed her slow. Deliberate. Decisive. Dangerous. He kissed her like he flew. “I’ll stop flying when you stop spooking.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to see you all hot and bothered over my well being again.” John licked his lips as she fiddled with the knot of his tie. Cass wasn’t sure what was coming over her if not, just simply, the allure of John Egan. They had claimed each other publicly. All that was left was privately. 

“Did that turn you on, Cass?” She nodded, pressing her chest against his as her tongue slipped between his lips and stirred an ache within him. “Do you like that they could walk in on us at any time?”

“Fuck, John.” Her lips moved to the column of his throat and he groaned at the nipping of her teeth. She was tempted to have him take her right there on the desk. He was tempted too. Wanted to rip those thin, tantalizing panty hose from her legs and hike her skirt around her waist. Had fantasized how soft the skin of her thighs would be. What she would taste like. How she would sound as he worked her over the edge again and again and again. 

“Cass, baby, I want you so bad.” She was intoxicating. A siren at sea. At this moment, he was powerless to deny her anything. 

“Then take me, sir.” God, he could die a happy man. He was pushing her skirt up her legs, Cass spreading them wider as she leaned back onto the desk and pulled John down with her when there was a knock on the door. 

“Major Egan? Lieutenant Cooper?” Cass collapsed onto her back, panting with pent up tension, John catching himself with his hands on either side of her head. 

“Just a minute,” John called. He dropped his sweaty forehead to her shoulder in defeat before standing to his full height. His mouth ran dry with a tease of lace, Cass tugging her skirt down to hide it from his starving eyes. 

“You like lace. Noted.”

“I think I’d like anything that was on you.” He grabbed her hands and tugged her closer. “Or off you.” No longer able to control herself around John Egan, she stood on his toes and pressed up into his lips once more. 

“Major Egan-”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” John stormed to the door and threw it open. “Private, I said we needed a minute.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Cass chuckled as he scurried away, adjusting her jacket and grabbing her briefing materials from the drawer. 

“Don’t go scaring them, John. We need young men to want to stay in.” 

“He’ll be fine. I’ll apologize when your spell has worn off a bit.” 

“Oh? There you go with that witch motif again.” He followed her out of the office, out of the building and into the daylight. 

“Has to be some kind of explanation for the way you’ve got me wrapped your finger like this.” She stopped and turned to face him.

“Maybe it’s love, Major.” His retort went right back down his throat. How the fuck did she know? He had tried to say it the other night but had since thought better of it. He couldn’t risk scaring her off. 

“Maybe.” She read the yes behind his maybe. 

“Maybe,” she repeated, whispering. “We should go inside.” John nodded, stepping closer and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I just need one more minute.” It was a moment John had never really thought about. The moment you realize the woman you love, loves you right back. He wanted to engrave it in his mind, heart and soul. Never forget this feeling with her. Carry it with him until he didn’t have to be afraid of losing it anymore. “Cass? You mean a lot to me, you know that?” 

“We’ll make it through this, John. Together.” He kissed her one last time before heading, because how could he help himself, the sound of together silencing all the doubt in his mind. If only for a little while.

----

Cass sat quietly along the side of the room as Colonel Huglin unveiled the target for today’s mission and the unfortunate low-low position that the 100th would take. She looked around and tried to read if any of the men seemed nervous or had any understanding of what was about to happen to them. They were doing a good job of keeping it all at bay. 

Eventually her eyes landed on John as they always did. He had recovered from their earlier tryst remarkably quickly. Cass was nearly positive she would need to replace her undergarments at the first available instance. Looking at him now only added to her need to shift and adjust in her seat. Back home, men were either ruggedly handsome and good with their hands or politely coiffed and intellectually impressive. For John Egan to somehow embody both was a figment of all her desires. 

He caught her staring out of the corner of his eyes. Offered her a smirk and would have blown a kiss if he wasn’t sitting in the front row. As if she could read his mind, she blew a kiss of her own. John pretended to catch it and slip it into his pocket. 

“Our intelligence officer, Lieutenant Cooper, will take it from here before Captain Becker delivers the weather.” Cass stood to the sound of whistles and cheers, a low chant of ‘Spook’ spreading throughout the room. John smiled but kept his decorum. Though that blush on her cheeks was going to make him go mad.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, gentlemen. Lights please.” The room plunged into darkness save for the screen she was using to deliver her brief. “Please note there are both naval and ground based anti-aircraft assets located along the Frisian Islands. Towards the mainland, you can expect concentrated flak from here all the way down to Bremen. Sources tell me they are radar enabled so they will have the capability to track you.” A hand shot up in the crowd.

“Ma’am? What kind of artillery are we looking at?” 

“88 and 105.” She paused to see if there was follow up before continuing. “The most important aspect is your target to the northwest of Bremen if I could have the target map, please.”

There were no further questions, John standing to the side while she presented the bombardiers and navigators with supplemental files for the run. She didn’t offer them luck or tell them to fly safe. Just told them to remember their training and stick to the headings she had given them. Anything else would be empty words.

“I think they were very thoroughly briefed, don’t you?” Cass laughed as she gathered her maps and placed them back in her folder. 

“Surprised I do more than run around Europe and get shot?” John looked at his shoes sheepishly but his jovial tone seemed to have slipped away.

“Shouldn’t joke about getting shot, Cass. Kind of scared me when that happened.” She touched his cheek gently. 

“Once they all take off and you’re done being a leader of men, you can sit and read my report if you like. I’m positive your imagination is worse than the truth.” At least, she hoped it was. “You should go talk to Buck. Give him some parting thoughts.”

“You’re the one who told me there are no words to describe it.”

“Not to warn him or guide him. Just remind him why he’s going up there today and why he will again every time after.” His smile was tight lipped. Her words were very carefully chosen to not reflect the truly dire nature of their circumstances. He appreciated her for it. She held onto that quality as long as she could. Beyond the German surrender and the atomic bomb and the curiosity with what came next. But one day she would have to break. And she knew John would be there. He’d always be there. Had to.

----

It was a couple hours later when he found her again. She looked like she was fighting sleep from behind her typewriter. John couldn’t help but admire the sight, almost regretting the gentle rap of his knuckles on her door. 

“Leader of men here for Lieutenant Cooper.” She acknowledged his presence with a smile but kept her chin in her hand. “One plane back with mechanical issues. Just a waiting game.” 

“You’re not good at patiently waiting, are you?” 

“I think I’m being pretty patient with you. With us,” he added as he motioned around them. “An impatient man would have taken advantage of your offer this morning.” Cass scoffed and sat up. Good. John liked when she was at her full capacity to spar with him. Sometimes, he said something just to get her to banter. 

“You only didn’t because of that poor man that knocked on the door!”

“Well, he’s not here now.” 

“So, what’s stopping you?” She looked at him expectantly. As if she was actually curious if he would just sweep her desk clean and take her right then and there. She would let him. 

“Time. Need to make sure there’s no limit to how long I can take.” Cass liked the sound of that. John taking his time to work her up and up then over. Not just once. Maybe not even twice. She knew what she would be thinking about all night.

“A consolation prize then?” There was a red folder dangling from her fingertips. “It can’t leave this room.” John took it, taking a seat with enough distance from her to keep his head clear of sinful thoughts. 

She typed away quietly as he read, something domestic about the whole thing that made them both incandescently happy, only the occasional grunt of concern or impressed hum slipping from his mouth. 

“They teach you how to do all this at spook school?” 

“Most of it. Some just has to be instinctual. Kind of like your piloting. There is only so much to learn in a training environment before the real thing has to take place.” He looked down and reread the lines about the information she had received. How she had written the tangible impact these identifiers would have on the war. Wanted to skip over the part where the local police followed her after her meeting. How they turned her in and she took a beating but convinced the interrogators she was just lost. How she made her tourniquet out of ripped cotton and a stick. 

“Cass, you’re fucking incredible, you know that?” 

“It’s always nice to have a handsome man tell me.” Their thoughts matching, she met him on the other side of her desk and accepted his kiss eagerly. 

“We always find ourselves here,” he said with a sigh, her cheek fitting in his palm and his thumb resting on the top of her cheekbone. 

“Are you complaining?” 

“Never.” He leaned back in, ready to seal the world off once more, when the sirens ran off. The planes were back. And with them, the real world.

[xirayn]

Steddie dads: the origin of Sam

"I want a baby."

Steve nearly chokes on his sandwich as his brain tries to process Robin - staunch feminist and critic of gender roles - wanting a baby. He knows she loves her career traveling the world as a translator and interpreter, and baby doesn't exactly fit into that. He barely fits beyond letters and lunches during long layovers in Chicago like the one they are currently having.

"You?" he asks after a few coughs to direct the bite of sandwich down the correct tube. "A baby? Why?"

"It just seems like an amazing experience. You bring a literal human being into this world and get to watch them grow and become their own person. They're part of you, but completely independent with their own thoughts and feelings and future. Like, they start as basically a parasite, then they learn to walk and talk and explore the world and question and read and get their own sense of humor and ideas -"

"I know, Robin." Steve sighs. He knows she isn't trying to hurt him, but her words do all the same. It is why he wants a kid. Nurturing a child and watching them grow is a dream he has given up on. "Eddie and I have wanted kids for a long time, but -" It isn't feasible for them. Not now. This is about Robin, though. "A kid isn't going to fit into your jet-setting lifestyle."

"I said I wanted to have a baby, not raise a kid." Robin steals a fry off his plate. Steve rolls his eyes.

"I don't think you can do that."

"Why not? Men do it all the time." She pops the fry into her mouth.

"Because they have a wife or nanny or someone who will raise their kid."

Robin smiles as she chews. Her expression encourages him toward the solution for a puzzle she has already solved. He studies her, replaying their conversation back in search for what has been left unsaid. Robin wants to have a baby for someone else to raise. Men have kids they leave to be raised by their wives or someone they've hired. Not all, of course, though men are still praised for doing something as basic as babysitting as if it isn't their own child they are watching. Robin doesn't have a wife and wouldn't have a child just to pay someone to raise them...

Steve and Eddie want to raise a child.

His mouth forms a circle of revelation. The love he has for Robin swells in his chest. Her face softens as she watches him understand what she is offering.

"I want to have your baby," Robin tells him softly, almost cautiously, as if he might reject the gift she is offering him. Naturally, she tries to cover with a tumble of words. "Not the traditional way. That would be - ew. There are other ways, though. My friends Alex and Clara did it. Alex's brother jacked off into a cup in another room, then Clara took it and, just, put it up there."

"Like with a turkey baster?" It is the dumbest thing Steve could ask, but it eases the tension developing in Robin's shoulders.

"No, Dingus," she laughs. "There is this latex cup used for periods they used. Sample goes in the cup, cup goes by the cervix, nature does the rest."

"And by sample, you mean jizz."

"Ew. No. Don't call it that." She gags and waves her hands in front of her. Steve shakes his head with a fond smirk.

"What? That's what it is."

"Sure, for sex, but I want to keep everything as non-sexual as possible. Whatever you do in your room stays in your room."

Steve chuckles. He is still caught in the mix of wonder and happiness at the idea. A child with his best friend actually sounds pretty great, especially when he gets to raise them with his would-be spouse.

"I have to talk to Eddie about it," he says. He already knows the answer, though. They have already talked about it and taken the steps to discover it wasn't feasible for them; not until now.

"Duh." There is nothing but affection and good humor in Robin's voice. "I'm going to be in Cannes for three months. I was planning on taking some time off afterward, so you better have the guest room ready."

Steve laughs. "It's never not ready, but I'll make sure it's free."

"Good." Robin glances at her watch. She digs in her bag for some crumpled bills to put on the table. "I have to go. My flight is boarding in a half hour and on the other side of the airport . I'll send you a postcard when I get there."

"Sounds good." Steve stands to give her a hug.

He enjoys the postcards, he and Eddie were even saving up to go sightseeing with her in Europe. They can wait for that to be a family trip, though.

[strawb3rrystar]

Trinkets and Picture Frames.

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst towards the end, Fluffy in the beginning, Best friends that are unable to realize their feelings, Slight unrequited love themes

Word count: 750+

✰Masterlist

"I got this for you." Sejanus places a pendent in the palm of your hand. You gasp at the sight of it, wrapping your arms around your best friend. He was always the best at gift giving, always knowing exactly what you wanted when you wanted it. He would buy your favorite snacks or new shoes you were looking at in the window display. The clothes he bought you fit perfectly, as if they were tailored to your size.

You had always asked him why he got you some many gifts, but he never gave you an answer. In truth, he admired you. Not only romantically, but he also admired how hardworking you were. You didn't come from the richest family, a fact that almost everyone in the academy knew. You would often be found helping run your parents' shops, working tirelessly to keep your family afloat. Sejanus cared so deeply about you. The least he could do was buy you stuff. As friends, of course. He could never work up the courage to confess to you.

"It's beautiful, thank you." You whispered in his ear. On your seventeenth birthday, he treated you to a fancy restaurant. Not on a date, or anything like that, as both yours and his parents were there too. But you'll never forget how his hand dipped under the table to hold yours. You didn't think there was anything behind it at first as he had done it all the time, in class, during lunch, going out shopping, walking home. But, you started to notice the way he pulled you into his side, almost possessively.

You move the pendant around your hand. It was a lovely sunset orange colour, it was the perfect size, not too big or too small. You bite on your bottom lip as you look over the pendant again. It was very shiny, brand new looking. "This looks quite expensive, Sejanus."

"Yes, but it's not a big deal." He takes your hand, his eyes on the promise ring that sat on your pinkie. You open your mouth to say something, but quickly close it as you don't dare argue. You two walk hand in hand through the halls of the academy, earning glances from your peers. They probably thought you were dating, and, in honesty, there wasn't a difference to you. People looked shocked when you called him your best friend, and you would never correct people who called you a couple.

Your bedroom walls were filled with pictures of you two, from your first year of friendship to the minutes before the reaping ceremony. A brightly coloured picture frame sat on your nightstand, a part of the handmade gifts you made last year. One for each of your closest friends, which was exactly three people, two of which you swore looked down upon you. The picture was of Sejanus and you. At first glance, it looked like you two were kissing, but your faces were just really close together. Yeah.. you totally didn't kiss him two seconds before. You both promised to forget that fact.

Your hand clutches the pendant as you read over the letter for the hundredth time. It was his perfect, cursive handwriting, signed with his name. You read it over and over again.

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus Snow

Coriolanus Snow..

Why did he have to be the one to tell you? He never cared about Sejanus. Not as much as you did. You should have never let him leave, convinced him to stay. Now, the only reanimate of him was the pictures on your walls. You couldn't wear half of your closet as it was his money that bought it. You threw the promise ring into some corner of your room. Everything reminded you of him. You broke down in tears multiple times a day. You stopped smiling and started avoiding people. Your last words to him were telling him to stay safe, but he just couldn't listen. You wished you told him you loved him, kissed him one last time.

It wasn't fair that Coriolanus was handed the Plinth fortune, handed his diploma, handed presidency. You assumed he didn't feel any guilt, while the guilt ate you alive every day. Sejanus didn't deserve to die. He was the last person in Panem who deserved the fate that was handed to him. It wasn't until Coriolanus Snow knocked on your door almost thirty years later that you felt true rage. You didn't care anymore, and you punched him in the face, slamming the front door before he could speak.

Star's notes -> I'm madly in love with Sejanus, people need to write more fics about him

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @arzua10 @candiedhearts55 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @toxicbimbo @shyunivrse | Join the taglist

[agaypanic]

Okay listen a fix based on this tik tok

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8fK6cmv/

It was made like last year and I still have it stuck in my head. Love your work btw🫶

If You Really Love Her (Bernard the Elf X Human!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Your friendship with Bernard has turned into silent infatuation, unknowingly from both sides. Jack Frost, loving to cause trouble, talks Bernard out of giving you a gift when he realizes that the elf has fallen in love with you. After all, how could an elf ever be with a human?

A/N: the fact that this fic is written from a request about a tiktok where the plot is based on a scene in shrek 2 is insane lmao changed the snow globe from the tiktok to a locket btw. also i left it on a bit of a cliffhanger so if yall want a part 2 lmk

***

Bernard was known to become very high-strung during Christmas. How could he not? Being in charge of hundreds of elves and a workshop and having to help make sure one of the biggest holidays of the year was a worldwide success was sure to take its toll on a guy. But for a few years, Bernard’s saving grace in the intensity of Christmas has become you.

You were quick to become friends, despite his somewhat grumpy disposition. You didn’t mind that he was a thousand-and-some-year-old workaholic, and he didn’t mind that you were a peppy human. 

After a while, he wasn’t exactly sure when the turning point was; Bernard’s platonic feelings for you had evolved. At first, he thought that it was just because he didn’t see you much, so he basked in all the moments you had together. But then he started wanting even more time with you, doing things that friends didn’t usually do.

After a few years of being silent about his growing feelings, Bernard felt the need to do something about it. He was getting sick of pretending that he was content with friendship. He decided the perfect opportunity to tell you was when you came to the North Pole with Santa and Charlie after the Christmas Eve rounds.

Which, if Santa was on schedule, was in a few hours. The whole night, nerves and anxiety-riddled Bernard, more than usual anyway. He paced around his office, your Christmas present jingling in his pocket.

Eventually, he decided to get some fresh air. Being cooped up in the small room and constantly overthinking couldn’t be good for him. Besides, he didn’t want to be a nervous wreck when you came.

Walking out of the workshop, Bernard took a deep breath, watching a cloud leave his mouth as he exhaled from how cold it was. Surprisingly, it was colder than usual.

“Hey, Bernie.” It immediately became less surprising when Bernard heard that annoying voice.

“Jack.” The elf greeted shortly, not bothering to turn around to look at the insufferable being. It was bad enough that he was overthinking his confession and your possible reactions. But now Bernard also had to deal with this winter spirit who seemed to have a knack for tricks. “Don’t you have another volcano to go freeze over?”

“Oh, Bernie, Bernie, Bernie.” Jack ignored the elf correcting him on his name and placed a chilly hand on his shoulder, making him jolt. “Why so blue? It’s Christmas!”

“I’m aware.”

“Whatcha got jingling in your pocket, bud?” Before Bernard could answer or tell Jack to mind his business, Jack stuck his hand into Bernard’s pocket and pulled out a silver heart-shaped locket. “Ooh, who’s this for?”

“None of your business, Frost!” Bernard tried swiping the necklace back, but Jack raised it out of reach.

“I think I’ll take a little look if you don’t mind.” The man said, knowing that Bernard minded extremely. He read the small inscription on the heart. “‘I’m just a call away.’ Aw, how cute, Bernie. Didn’t know you were such a romantic. Now, what’s inside, I wonder. Let’s see… oh my god.” Bernard cringed at the reaction, watching Jack’s mouth gape wide open as he opened the locket and saw the picture that was inside. The winter spirit laughed, tilting his head towards the elf. “A human? Really, Bernie, I’m surprised at you.”

“Give it back.” Bernard hissed but was ignored.

“I’ve seen this girl before!” Jack realized. “She’s Santa’s kid’s little friend! What, were you gonna give this to her when she came to the North Pole? I bet you were.” Jack shut the locket, reading the inscription once more. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with this girl.”

Bernard didn’t answer. He hadn’t really thought about that before. Yes, he knew that his feelings for you were no longer platonic. He liked you very much. But love?

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

“Good thing I know better.” Jack tossed the locket back to Bernard, who barely caught it, having been too wrapped up in his thoughts. But Bernard also caught Jack’s tone, like he knew something that Bernard didn’t.

“So what if I do, Frost? It’s none of your business either way.” Bernard quickly pocketed the necklace so Jack wouldn’t take it again. 

Jack raised an icy eyebrow, leaning forward to become face-to-face with Bernard.

“So what if you do?” Jack mocked, soon laughing. “She’s a human, short stuff. And you are an elf. No amount of magic could ever fix that.” Jack straightened up, taking pride in the way Bernard’s expression fell. “Unless, of course, you retire, which we both know would never happen. And she could never stay here; she has a life to live in the real world.”

“But I love her…” Bernard said it half as a realization and half as a counter to Jack’s argument. He gripped the heart-shaped locket tightly as if it could shut Jack Frost’s mouth for good.

“If you really loved her, Bernie, you’d let her go.” Jack grinned at Bernard’s gloominess. But the elf didn’t see that, because he kept his head down and eyes locked on his shoes. “It’s only fair, really. She’d eventually become miserable, being stuck at the North Pole with you. Growing older and older while you don’t age a day. Wondering what kind of life she could’ve had.”

Bernard took in Jack’s words, each one making him panic more and more. Jack Frost was right, as much as he hated to admit it. You would be miserable here. And he didn’t want to leave, at least not now. But time was on his side and not yours.

“But hey! What do I know?” Jack slapped Bernard on the shoulder and skipped off, probably reveling in the fact that he had caused such trouble and was now wandering off to see if he could cause some more.

But Bernard felt frozen to the front steps of the workshop. He couldn’t face you, not right now, not when he was like this. 

Realizing your arrival time was in just a few short hours, Bernard raced inside and to the lodging area of the workshop. He skidded to a stop in front of your room. You had become such a regular guest during the holidays that Bernard had taken it upon himself to put your name on the bedroom door.

He walked in, seeing that the room was exactly as you had last left it. He took the locket from his pocket and gently placed it on one of your pillows. Bernard was about to leave it at that, but he quickly decided it wasn’t enough. You deserved more than a little trinket left on your bed.

Bernard decided to write a little note for you to accompany the locket, using the stationary on the desk that sat in the corner of the room. But the little note became a long note, containing confessions and anxious thoughts and apologies. 

Bernard placed the note on the pillow with the necklace when it was finally finished. He stared at it for a few seconds before rearranging the two objects differently, hating the sight more and more. In a moment of frustration, Bernard shoved the locket and the note underneath the pillow, not wanting to see it anymore. Then he stormed out before he could freak out any further. 

It was better this way, Bernard tried to convince himself. If you found his gift and read the note, you understand. If you didn’t, he supposed that would just be less heartbreak for the both of you. In the end, you’d be happy. Even if he was miserable, Bernard just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

Because, after all, how could an elf ever be with a human?

***

Bernard the Elf Taglist: @katerinaval

[whisperiin]

honestly, i can't believe his non-sfx coating is free t-t, Gojo glasses do things to me

okay, so, if i remember correctly, my request was about Commandant proposing to Wanshi, knee deep in Red Tide, "we know each other only a few hours and i'm delirious, but i know what i whant, when i see it"-style, during Echo Aria chapter

thank you in advance, and i think your writing still on point, glad you're back .)

ahh i'm so embarrassed i'm sorry!!!! i had two wanshi rqs in my inbox so i wasn't sure which one you meant... this time i wrote the correct one!! i hope you enjoy!!

honestly i'm sooo glad his coating is free... and he's free too? kurogames is spoiling us. i kneel... now we just wait for lucid dreamer gacha skin in a million years.......

marriage proposal ft. wanshi (and the red tide)

content warnings: none

To say WANSHI is surprised would be the understatement of the century — his eyes widen, his mouth hangs a little agape, and his cheeks growing warm. Ah, he thinks, more than a little bewildered, maybe the exertion is getting to him. But he blinks once, twice, and still sees you down on one knee, the Red Tide lapping dangerously close to your shoes.

He’s quick to mumble an apology, his gaze shifting away from you. Neither of you are exactly in the position to answer that question, will you marry me, properly, after all. Wanshi might even look you over for a second — maybe you’ve gotten injured and started growing delirious? He’s sure Lee would kill him if anything happened to you under his watch.

And, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, either — his gaze keeps getting drawn back to you during the rest of the mission, making sure you’re still behind him, making sure nothing sneaks up on you… Not just because of your proposal, of course, but he can’t deny the way it lingers a little in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

It’s not until you’re both back on Babylonia that he finally gives you an answer... of a sort. He tucks away the latest of many gifts you just handed him — the staff members in the room seem to whisper amongst themselves when he mentions running out of space in his sleeping pod for them, how odd… — a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls it. Commandant, he’ll begin, taking in every detail of your face, you didn’t ask anyone else that question, did you?

It’s a bit early to get married, he thinks — but if it’s anything like this, his cheeks growing warm as he regards you, your eyes widening as he rubs grime off your face with his thumb — maybe, if you give him some time, he’ll be the one asking you to marry him, instead. For now, just your company is enough.

(Still, though, he kind of likes how it sounds calling himself your husband.)

[dxxtruction]

Okay… Okay… I'm not huge on the Alice is Armand, some Alice memories are really Armand memories, truther, but there's something SO juicy about it. Imagining it, it's got all the works.

Like a pregnancy is such a good cover story [coded language] for if there was infidelity. Like "I’ve been sleeping around with you, and it’s yours" = you’re who I want to have this kid with. (ie; would even want to turn if it ever came to it), but he - Louis in this case - is going to find out if we stay together like this. I might have to abort this.

Daniel goes. “Yeah, we’ll talk about it later.” Several months later, Daniel has it all in his head, and proposes they be together forever, that Armand change him, like he knows he wants to, deep down. But Armand can’t. Because he can’t trust him. In this case 'he' is also still Louis, though somewhat Daniel, and how well he'd take to the gift. Daniel taking it only as himself, because he doesn't see how Louis would be a problem for them if he was just turned. Armand never correcting for it (this guy would).

They stay around for a while though, cause they can’t quit. Second proposal, a “why are we still doing this if we can’t be together forever?” And Armand ‘accepts’ this time, but it’s a lie. He fakes turning him, but what he’s really doing is fudging his memories. This is how he’ll protect him, he’ll go live his life with what will be his wife soon enough, with a kid.

Because what would be EVEN JUICIER. Is if this same version of events happened on Daniels end, almost exactly. And Daniel was also double dipping, and actually did get the real Alice pregnant. Proposing at about the same times. Said about the same things to her, but only she got to keep him in ‘death do us part’ which never ended up happening. Probably because subconsciously he both wanted someone else, and wanted to be someone else, in fact, in some part of him, he was already living as if under the impression he was no longer human. That he could take on anything and was impenetrable, dedicated to getting his blood, I mean, his journalistic score, and in so doing he sort of ruined his marriages, daughters, even career. But he still prevailed. Very Claudia of him. 

Something halfway unfortunate about 'how Daniel took to it' is that Armand is only now half in love with him. It's Daniel, his mortal beloved, but he's taken to his 'not a gift' gift in a way that's turned his sweet boy into something he also comes to greatly resent in equal measure. Fairly he hates him, and relishes in any opportunity to tear him, down. Mocks your entire existence at the very end. But you're both good at threading together lies to deceive a partner who is not yet or ever a spouse. Did Daniel propose a third time? Or did Armand, resenting both himself, and Daniel, turn him out of spite? Though equally spite for how Louis had separated them in the first place at all, that he turn him out of this love he still had for him. Whose to say. Armand ran off without any answers.

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(fascinated by the choices made between books and show so I gotta study them like bugs under a microscope. Spoilers for the whole show and the books)

Season 1 episode 6 [Like Angels Put In Hell By God] - part 1/2

- [Louis] "Excruciating pain was the proof I was still alive." - that's one way of confirming proof of life.

- [Daniel] "'He could fly?' [Louis] 'Yes.' [Daniel] 'Like Superman?' [Louis] 'Not like Superman. Superman is a fictional character.' [Daniel] 'But in the air, with a 'fuck you to Newtonian physics' flying?' [Louis] 'He said it was more like floating, arising at will, propelling in a direction by the decision. He called it the cloud gift.'"

Love how Louis is adamant in pointing the difference between Lestat and Superman: one's fictional, the other is very much real. No fiction here, no sir-e. And hello canon callback, the Cloud Gift.

- [Daniel]"That's the voice of Doctor Fareed Bhansali." - EXCUSE ME. WHAT. WHO. HOW. WHAT. Filed under things that mean nothing to the non-book readers but will make the book readers lose their minds.

- [Louis] "Are you still dreaming about our first meeting, Daniel?" - I'm gonna go ahead and say, yeah, from what we know of that meeting now, that's definitely the stuff of dreams. Bad dreams, that is.

- [Daniel] "Can you fly, Louis?" - helloooo PTSD.

- [Louis] "I suppose he thought if he exposed all his power to me, I would never feel his equal and the relationship would suffer." -… Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't that exactly what it came to be? Also, in book canon, Lestat doesn't like using the Cloud Gift. It's very tied in with Akasha and the abuse he goes through at her hands, and he resents that loss of control and bigger divide between him and humanity.

[Daniel] "'He only beat me the one time, Officer. It's not his fault.' Classic Stockholm, eh, Doc?" - still tripping over the fact that THAT'S Doctor Fareed, oh shit, 1, he's hot, 2, THAT'S FAREED BHANSALI. Oh, and also, Daniel is right and he should say it. But also he doesn't have all the facts, which are 1, we love Lestat, 2, one murder attempt kinda makes up for it, they're even now, and 3, "memory is a beast".

- [Louis] "Are we the sum of our worst moments? Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves?" - THIS. I don't have more comments, just this, so much.

- Oof. Welcome to physical therapy. As a vampire, that must be excruciating.

- [Louis] "'If you ever wanna talk about what happened to you while you were gone, you know you can, right?' [Claudia] 'Uh-huh.' [Louis] 'Or you could just tell me his name, write it on a scrap of paper.' [Claudia] 'You gonna be my knight in vengeful black?' [Louis] 'I am the knight.'" >> 80 years later, "I own the night", we love character development when the seeds are planted from the beginning. And puns, we love puns too.

- [Lestat] "The Book of Hours, extremely rare, 15th century. Silver and gold in the vellum, palettes of blue and old rose." - I want that book so bad… Ahem. I mean, nope, forgiveness will not be bought by gifts, no matter how impressive or expensive.

- [Lestat] "Perhaps we should let him decide if he wants to see me or not." - I think the coffin flying out of the window is a very clear answer.

- You know what, I'm ready to incorporate in my belief system that Emily Dickinson is a vampire. After all, s2 already said Samuel Beckett is. Let's add the Brönte sisters to the list too. Not the Austens tho, I don't think so.

- I love how mature Claudia looks in that hairdo.

- [Lestat] "I'm nothing without both of you." - sweetie, you need to grow an independent self.

- [Louis] "For six years in all, these raw and desperate mea culpas came like the tide. And for six years, they were greeted with silence or fire. We burned more gifts than bodies in that decade, but they would not stop coming. And Lestat's relentless determination began to crack my considerable armor. Perhaps it was the modesty of the gesture. But in the spring of 1937, one broke through."

If they were real people, I'd say" girl, no, run, stop". But the beauty of fictional characters is that the more messed up, the more compelling, and I am on the edge of my seat getting ready for Lestat to come crawling back and for Louis to fall even harder.

- Aaaaaaaaaah, Lestat singing!!!! Rockstar Lestat wheeeeeeeeeeeeeen.

- [Louis] "The audacity of it all was matched only by its sincerity" - that's the definition of Lestat, that here.

- [Louis] "Six years of begging, you think a song's gonna get a rise out of me?" -… Babe, you just swam the Mississipi and broke down a door, I'd say he managed it.

Also, hello again, Sam Reid's training routine. Man, that chest.

[Louis] "Write me a song and put your lover's voice in it?" - I don't know if I wanna applaud Lestat's boldness or rip his heart out for his casual cruelty.

Sorry Antoinette, nobody ever holds a candle to Louis in Lestat's eyes…

- [Daniel] "'You took Lestat back.' [Louis] 'The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent.' [Daniel] 'Lover, murderer, maker. You took him back.' [Louis] 'It's a bond than can never be fully severed. A bond like that makes you believe there's only the two of you on the planet.'"

Daniel Molloy season 1: giiiirl he's abusive and violent and a cheating liar, why would you take him back?

Daniel Molloy season 2: never mind, better the guy who loves you and would have died to save you even though he's the one that broke you than the psycho besides you who's been lying for 80 years and is the reason your daughter's dead, I am now the number one Loustat defender.

Mate, same.

- I am absolutely mesmerised by Louis's eyes in this episode. Oh, boy, how is he so, so beautiful.

- "His name was Magnus. He took me from my room in Paris, as I kicked and screamed. He kept me for a week, locked in a room full of corpses - some freshly killed, some bloated and black. But they all looked like me - my coloring, my physique. My own eyes staring back at me from rotting faces. He fed on me every night. And then he put me back in the tower with the look-alike corpses. I thought for sure I'd be one of them, but instead he turned me into this. No grand history of vampiric origins or physiology, no rules, no counsel. Just a sweeping hand to a pile of money and the sight of him throwing himself into a fire. And then I was alone. I thought… 'I can't drink hot blood. I can't feed on others.' I cried. I called to God. I didn't want this. But I have a capacity for enduring. It's why I don't particularly like being abandoned."

Aah, this is such a fascinating moment. Lestat is trying so hard to remain impassive and neutral, but his voice wavers all through the story, and his gaze is distant and clouded when he recounts the worst parts, his fear, his loneliness. And then Louis looking at him with so much compassion and so much pain, fully empathising, and Claudia, even though she also feels some modicum of pity, immediately looking to Louis and seeing that he's fully back to loving Lestat, and for his sake, for his sake only, she agrees to Lestat coming back… Beautiful.

And then when you think about Lestat's origins as a vampire (and we haven't even touched on his human history because damn that part too is hard), enduring is really his main trait. He's a survivor. In every meaning of the word. Survivor of rape, because that's what his turning is, survivor of several types of abuse going back all the way to his childhood, survivor of his own demons,… As Louis said, are we the sum of our worst moments? In Lestat's case, I feel like the answer is clearly "no. We are the sum of how much we're trying. We mess up at times, we fail, we hurt each other - but we keep trying our best and we keep trying to stay true to ourselves and we make amends and we recognise our faults".

A pause, here. Breathe. And then onto part 2.

episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | part 2 | episode 7

[purplefangirl42]

You're My Favorite

Summary: Silco is a bit insecure about your interest in others, but you're quick to ease his mind.

Pairing: Silco/GN!Reader

A/N: This was part of a gift exchange for my lovely friend @deny-the-issue. Love you lots and lots Jasper 💜

Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Fluff, Silco being jealous, Themes of Insecurity Divider by saradika

A soft huff of annoyance was the sound that greeted you when you entered Silco’s office, which was not exactly what you were expecting. He was usually very happy to see you, as it meant he would have a small distraction from his busy work day.

“Something wrong?” you asked as you sank into the armchair across from his desk.

Silco peered at you over the edge of his laptop screen, the skin between his eyes crinkled as he furrowed his brows at you. Before you could ask again what his problem was, he turned the computer to face you.

You leaned forward to look at what he was showing you and discovered he had the purchase history open for his online shopping account. The list contained many purchases from Jinx, but also a number from yourself. The latest was a set of merchandise for a game you enjoyed, specifically for the character you were a big fan of.

“If you’re upset I used your account, I can pay you back,” you said, trying to not let your own annoyance seep into your tone. “I didn’t think you’d mind me using it though. I’ve used it plenty of times before.”

Silco sat back in his desk chair, turning the computer back around.

“It’s not the money that bothers me, it’s the content,” he said. “Everything has this man’s face on it. As if the big poster at home that I have to walk by every day wasn’t bad enough, now his face will be staring back at me from your clothing?”

Confusion filled your mind at his reaction. He had never expressed an issue with this subject matter before, so you had no idea where this was coming from. 

“At least tell me this one has some flaws,” he continued. “That last character you were fawning over from that TV show was a near perfect human specimen.”

Silco’s last comment echoed through your mind for a few moments before you realized what the problem was. He was feeling self-conscious about his looks and comparing himself to others you showed attraction to. 

This was not the first time something like this had happened. Around the time the two of you started dating, he had expressed concern about your ability to find someone better than him. Someone younger and better looking. Though you had assured him that he was the one you wanted, it seemed that those doubts still lingered to an extent.

You stood up from your chair and made your way around to his side of the desk. He was pointedly not looking at you, focusing on the screen in front of him. When you stopped at his side, you gently placed your hand on the side of his face to turn it towards you.

“Silco? Are you feeling jealous?” you asked.

Silco scowled and let out another huff in response. 

“Of fictional characters? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, giving him a chance to change his answer to the correct one. After a moment, his face relaxed and he gave a resigned sigh.

“I will admit, it’s a bit discouraging to see you so infatuated with these people,” he said. “It just reminds me of what I’m lacking.”

He gestured to the computer screen again and to the phone in your front pocket.

“You surround me with these images and as hard as I try to ignore it, it lingers in my mind.”

You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. The case had a piece of art featuring the character you had just purchased merch for. You turned the phone over and placed it down on the desk so the case was hidden from his view.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Silco said. “I know I’m being ridiculous about something so unimportant. Forget this conversation ever happened.”

You leaned down to be at his level and gently stroked his cheek.

“Silco, you don’t need to apologize for expressing your feelings.”

“You deserve to enjoy things, to go all out. If having these things makes you happy, then I will deal with Mr. What’s-his-name staring at me from every angle.”

You laughed softly at Silco calling the character ‘Mr. What’s-his name’ and reached for your phone again, turning on the screen.

“While he may be all over the place, do you know who I have as my lock screen?” you asked, turning the phone so he could see.

Silco leaned over and looked at the phone and you could see the embarrassed look on his expression fade into something softer. The image on the screen was a picture of the two of you together. Jinx had taken it for you at one of Silco's company parties. She had said the two of you looked cute together, and you had agreed and immediately made it your lock screen. 

“I may enjoy all these beautiful, FICTIONAL, characters,” you said, emphasizing the fact that they were not real. “But you are still my favorite, Silco. You always will be.”

You leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before pulling away and placing the phone back in your pocket. Silco looked up at you with a look of adoration that made your heart swell. You gave him a soft smile and pointed at the screen.

“I’m still getting those by the way, they were a great deal.”

Silco rolled his good eye and you could swear you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips. 

“Yes, darling. I will simply pretend that they do not exist. For you.”

To make things easier for Silco, you placed the items you purchased in your office as soon as they arrived. You had even moved the poster so he wouldn’t have to see it every day. When you watched him walk past the spot the following day, you saw him hesitate and look at the empty wall. He turned his gaze to you with a raised brow, which you responded to with a smile before coming over to wrap your arms around him.

“What happened to What’s-his-name?” Silco asked. “I was just starting to get used to him.”

“He lives in my office now so you don’t have to see him staring at you every day.”

You felt Silco’s arms tighten around you for a few moments before he released you. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and went about his normal routine. You knew he had many things to get done before the holiday break, so you let him go without further conversation.

You started going about doing your own things, getting the house ready for the upcoming holiday. Jinx was going to be coming home from school for two weeks and you wanted the house to look magical when she arrived. Silco wasn’t much help when it came to the decorating process, so it was probably better that he was busy while you did this.

Just as you were putting the finishing touches on one of your decorations, you heard the front door burst open. Before you could turn around, you felt a body slam into you, nearly knocking you to the floor. Blue and pink tipped fingers were visible at the ends of the arms wrapped around your midsection, which gave away the identity of your attacker, as if you didn’t already know.

“Welcome home, Jinx,” you said, patting her hands. “Did you have a good trip here?”

“I don’t think she stopped talking the entire way here from the airport,” came an annoyed grumble behind you.

Turning around in your daughter’s tight grasp, you looked over her head to see a very grumpy looking Sevika standing in the doorway holding Jinx’s paint splattered bags. She dropped them to the floor and held up her hands.

“She’s your problem now,” she said, turning to leave.

“Thank you, Sevika!” you called after her as she departed.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Jinx, listening to her stories about the past semester. You all had plans to go out for dinner once Silco came home from work, so when the time got closer, you disappeared into the bedroom to get ready. You were surprised to find Silco standing there waiting for you.

“When did you get home? I never saw you come in!” you said, walking towards your closest.

“That’s because I told Jinx to distract you so you wouldn’t notice. It would have ruined the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

You stopped in your tracks at the sight of a box sitting on the end table beside the door to the closet. It was long and red with a white bow on top. You reached out for the box and picked it up carefully before turning to face Silco.

“What’s this?”

Silco crossed the room to stand in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back and the hint of a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. He pointed his chin in the direction of the box in your hands, clearly wanting you to open it.

Doing as he wished, you pulled at the white bow, undoing the knot. Lifting the lid from the box, you revealed the contents inside. A beautiful gold bracelet sat inside, nestled in black velvet. You let out a soft gasp as you carefully extracted it from the box, placing the box back down on the end table.

“Silco, this is beautiful!,” you exclaimed. “But, Christmas isn’t for another week!”

“I thought you could wear it tonight when you go for dinner,” he said, stepping closer and taking it from your hands and turning it over. “Look on the back.” 

You looked at where he indicated and saw an engraving that looked very similar to Silco’s handwriting. Your eyes scanned over the words on the metal and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You’re my favorite too. Always have been, always will be.

Your vision blurred slightly as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You looked up to meet Silco’s gaze as the first drop ran down your cheek. Throwing yourself in his direction, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you like it, darling,” Silco said, returning your embrace.

“Like it? I love it!”

Silco pulled back from the embrace and took your hand in his to guide it to a position where he could attach your gift. Once it was securely in place, he lifted your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“It is just a small token of my love for you. I wanted to ensure that you knew your sentiment was returned.”

“I didn’t need a bracelet to tell me, but it is nice to have it there as a reminder.”

You closed the distance between you once again, kissing Silco softly on the lips. You felt him smile into the kiss and wrap his arms around you to pull you tightly against him. You hoped he truly understood how much you loved him and how important he was to you. Much more than anyone else you could ever meet.

A/N: Give this a like, comment, and reblog and let me know what you think!