#you know i had to make it a little angsty

[flwrkid14]

So is I alright if I ask this?

I've seen the post where everyone wants to be Tim's favorite, might I ask if you could combine it with the 'Tim will never be anyone's favorite' and the brain dead post spin off? I think it'd be super angst angsty if the bats realize tehy unitentionally screwed up with Tim.

Oh, this is such a good ask! and now I’m going to be feral about it, thank you. Combining all of those ideas? Buckle up because this is going to get angsty.

—

Tim Drake will never be anyone’s favorite.

He’s always known it, accepted it as fact, because it’s not just about how he’s never felt like anyone’s favorite—it’s about how he’s been conditioned to believe that no one could favor him. He spent so much of his life trying to make himself useful to the people around him, because if he couldn’t be loved, he could at least be needed. If they needed him, they’d have to keep him around, right?

So that’s what Tim became. The utility knife of the Batfamily. The glue, the fixer, the one who knew how to put everything back together even if no one ever thought to ask how he was holding up.

And if that meant sacrificing pieces of himself, so what? He was never anyone’s favorite. He had no illusion that anyone would fight for him, that he’d be prioritized. The mission came first. Gotham came first. Family was a distant second, if it ranked at all.

Then there’s Danny.

Danny doesn’t come in with the expectations or baggage the rest of the Bats have. Danny doesn’t know Tim as a placeholder Robin or a second chance or a stolen birthright. He knows Tim as Tim—sharp, exhausted, himself. And Danny thinks that’s amazing.

He says it, too, without hesitation. “You’re my favorite,” he says like it’s a fact. Like Tim has always been the first name on someone’s list.

And it’s such a foreign concept to Tim that his first reaction is suspicion. He doesn’t trust it—can’t trust it—because when has anyone ever favored him? Even when Danny shows time and again that he’s not going anywhere, that his affection for Tim is unconditional, Tim’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Danny to grow tired of him, to leave, to regret his words.

But Danny doesn’t. He stays.

And that’s where it all starts to unravel for the rest of the family.

They see it—the way Danny looks at Tim like he’s the most important person in the room. The way Tim slowly starts to relax around him, shedding the defensive, brittle edges he’s always carried with them. The way Danny makes it obvious—painfully obvious—that Tim is his favorite person.

It's then that it hits them.

None of them have ever made Tim feel that way.

They start noticing the cracks they’ve left in him, the ones they never saw because they were too busy leaning on Tim to hold them together. They think back to all the times Tim had been the one to put in the effort to maintain their relationships, the way he always came through for them when they needed him, but how little they ever did for him in return.

They see the way he hesitates when Danny shows him affection—how it catches Tim off guard every time, like he’s still waiting for it to be a trap. And the Bats realize they’ve conditioned Tim to expect exactly that.

It guts them.

Cass had always known, in the quiet way she read people, that Tim didn’t feel like he belonged. She saw it in the way he held himself—guarded, distant, bracing for rejection. She’d tried, in her small, subtle ways, to show him he mattered, but watching Danny with him now, she realized she hadn’t done enough, that there was so much more she could have done for him not to feel that way. She hadn’t known how deep the hurt ran, and the guilt settled heavy in her chest.

Danny... Danny treated him differently.

Dick, who always tried to be a good brother but never saw the way Tim’s shoulders tensed under the weight of being “good enough.” Jason, who hated him for wearing the Robin colors but never noticed how much Tim blamed himself for taking them in the first place. Bruce, who thought giving Tim responsibility was enough to show he cared, but never thought to give him unconditional support. Damian, who fought Tim at every turn but never realized how much Tim already hated himself for existing in a role Damian felt should have been his.

Even Steph, and Duke—all of them thought Tim was fine because Tim made himself fine. Because Tim was the one who fixed things, and none of them stopped to ask what he needed.

It becomes almost unbearable for them to watch Danny care for Tim, because Danny makes it look so easy. He loves Tim so openly, so obviously, that it highlights every way the family failed to do the same.

And Tim? Tim doesn’t even seem to know he deserves it.

It’s the wake-up call they all desperately needed but never wanted. They don’t know how to fix it. But watching Danny and Tim together, seeing the way Tim is finally beginning to believe he’s worthy of being loved, they know one thing for certain:

They can’t undo the past.

But maybe, if they try hard enough, they can make sure Tim never feels that way again.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

WAITING AIN’T EASY

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after 6 gruelling months of long distance with drew, y/n decides to surprise him on set. listen to ‘waiting ain’t easy’ — Evan Honer!!

based on this ask !! i really hope you enjoy my lovely :) amazing ask as always !! i made a little twist on it though, and added some angsty goodness to make it more emotional <3

WARNINGS: angst to fluff, fighting, crying, mentions of breaking up, long distance relationship, like one (?) curse word, brief mention of cheating rumours (made by the media) and i think that’s it? (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared out at the crashing waves outside her beachfront rental in Australia, the sun dipping low in a painted sky of reds and golds. Normally, she would've snapped a picture to send Drew, knowing how much he loved sunsets. But tonight, her phone sat abandoned on the kitchen counter, vibrating occasionally with notifications she couldn't bring herself to check.

It had been nearly six months since she'd left for Australia to film her new movie, a dream opportunity that she'd accepted with boundless enthusiasm. Drew had been so supportive at first, kissing her forehead and promising her they'd figure it out. "Eight months will fly by," he'd said. "We'll make it work." And for a while, they had.

The first few months had been manageable—late-night FaceTime calls, text messages scattered throughout the day, photos exchanged to make each other smile. But as the weeks turned into months, the strain started to show. The time difference, their conflicting schedules, and the exhaustion from their respective work had turned their once-effortless connection into something fragmented and brittle.

And then there were the rumors.

The first article had popped up about a month ago, with pictures of Y/N and her co-star, Paul Mescal, leaving a restaurant. They'd been with a group of castmates, but the tabloids didn't care about context. The angle made it look intimate, as if the two of them had been alone. Headlines screamed: "New Flame on Set?" and "Trouble in Paradise for Drew Starkey and Y/N?"

Drew hadn't believed the rumors—not really. He knew how tabloids worked. But the seed of doubt had been planted. Their conversations became laced with tension. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?" Drew had asked one night, his voice tight.

"I didn't think I had to give you a play-by-play of my day," she'd snapped, the exhaustion from a grueling shoot making her sharper than she intended.

"I'm not asking for a play-by-play, Y/N. I just want to know what's going on in your life. Is that too much to ask?"

The fight spiraled from there, unresolved, and left a bitter taste that lingered.

Tonight, their most recent argument had pushed them to a breaking point.

She answered the phone after his third call, her voice strained. "Hey."

"Hey," Drew replied, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the silence that followed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," she began, trying to preempt his frustration. "I got caught up on set, and—"

"Y/N, you always get caught up on set," Drew interrupted, his tone clipped. "I'm starting to feel like I'm not a priority anymore."

Her heart sank. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Because it feels like I'm the only one trying here."

"Trying?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Drew, do you know how hard this has been for me too? I miss you every single day, but I can't just drop everything to cater to your insecurities."

"Insecurities?" he echoed, incredulous. "You're calling me insecure because I want to spend more than five minutes talking to my girlfriend? Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the last thing on your mind?"

"Don't do this," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Don't twist this into something it's not."

"Then tell me what it is, Y/N," he shot back. "Because right now, it feels like we're falling apart."

Her throat tightened. "Maybe we are," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Drew exhaled shakily on the other end of the line. "Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "This... this isn't what I thought it would be. I didn't think it would hurt this much."

"You think I don't hurt too?" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "You think I don't lie awake every night wishing you were here? That I don't feel like I'm losing my mind wondering if this is worth it anymore?"

Her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn't find the words to soothe him. To soothe herself. The weight of their love—their pain—pressed down on her like a crushing wave.

"I can't do this right now," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Drew said bitterly, "of course you can't."

And then the line went dead.

Y/N stared at the screen, her hand trembling as the call ended. She wanted to call him back, to take it all back, but the words hung in the air between them, too heavy to ignore.

Halfway across the world in Charleston, Drew sat in his apartment, his phone clutched in his hand. He stared at the empty screen, the echo of their fight replaying in his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the loneliness suffocating.

They were both alone, yet they'd never felt further apart.

—

Drew sat on set, legs stretched out as he leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. The day had been slow, and while he loved working on Outer Banks, his mind wasn't fully there. It hadn't been for weeks. The weight of his argument with Y/N lingered, the harsh words and silence that followed gnawing at him.

He sighed, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nearby table. The OBX cast was scattered around the set, some chatting, others grabbing snacks. Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia were huddled together near the craft services table, giggling about something. Their sudden burst of laughter caught Drew's attention.

"What's so funny?" he called out, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" Madison replied quickly, a little too quickly. She nudged Carlacia, who bit her lip to stifle another laugh.

Suspicious, Drew tilted his head but didn't press further. He wasn't in the mood for their antics today. As much as he loved his friends, all he really wanted was Y/N. Six months apart felt like an eternity, and knowing they still had two more months to go made the ache in his chest worse.

What he didn't know was that Y/N was only minutes away.

Y/N stepped off the plane, her heart pounding as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She had managed to keep the wrap of her film a secret from Drew, wanting to surprise him in the best way possible. It hadn't been easy; she'd had to bite her tongue during their rare phone calls and carefully avoid social media posts that might tip him off.

Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia had been the first people she told about her plan, and they had been more than happy to help. When she landed, they were waiting for her, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You ready to blow his mind?" Madelyn asked, grinning as she pulled Y/N into a hug.

"I've never been more ready," Y/N said, her nerves and excitement warring within her.

Carlacia held up her phone, ready to document everything. "Okay, we've got this all planned. He's sitting in the main lounge area. You just walk in, and we'll follow behind you."

Y/N nodded, exhaling shakily. "Let's do this."

Back on set, Drew was oblivious. The girls had disappeared somewhere, but he didn't think much of it. They were always running off to do their own thing. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face as exhaustion crept in.

The sound of footsteps approaching barely registered until he heard a familiar voice, soft and hesitant.

"Hey, Starkey."

Drew's head whipped around so fast that his chair tipped backward, clattering to the floor. He stumbled to his feet, his heart racing as his eyes locked on her.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, disbelief written all over his face.

Before she could say another word, Drew launched himself toward her, nearly tripping over his fallen chair in his haste. He reached her in seconds, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he lifted her off the ground.

"Y/N," he choked out, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her shoulder.

She clung to him just as tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Hi, baby," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Drew pulled back just enough to look at her, his face streaked with tears. "You're here? How are you here? I thought—"

"My shoot wrapped early," she interrupted, laughing through her tears. "I wanted to surprise you."

Drew didn't hesitate. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss so full of love and longing that it made Y/N's knees weak. Around them, the cast erupted in exaggerated groans and laughter.

"Get a room!" Rudy teased, shielding his eyes dramatically.

"Y'all are gonna make me cry," Carlacia joked, still filming the entire moment.

When Drew finally pulled away, his forehead rested against Y/N's, his tears falling freely now. "God, I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you too," Y/N said, her hands cupping his face as she brushed away his tears. "I'm so sorry, Drew. For everything. For the fight, for the silence. I hated it. I hated being apart from you."

"Me too," Drew admitted, his voice cracking again. "I was so scared, Y/N. Scared I was losing you."

"Never," she said firmly. "I was scared too, but I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."

Drew let out a shaky laugh, his arms tightening around her as if he were afraid she might disappear. "Waiting ain't easy," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, "but it's worth it for you. Always."

Y/N felt fresh tears well up as she kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance she had into it. When they finally broke apart, the cast was clapping and cheering, much to Drew's embarrassment.

"Alright, alright, show's over," Drew said, his cheeks flushed as he waved them off. But he couldn't stop smiling, and his hand never left Y/N's.

Carlacia walked up, showing them the video she had taken. "You two are gonna want this later. It's a tearjerker."

Drew chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. "Thanks, Laci."

As the cast gave them some space, Drew turned to Y/N, his eyes still glistening. "You're really here," he said again, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"I'm here," she confirmed, her smile soft. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Drew's expression softened, his love for her radiating in his gaze. "Good. Because I don't ever want to do this without you again."

They spent the rest of the day glued to each other, catching up, apologising, and soaking in every second of finally being together again.

For the first time in six months, everything felt right.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such an adorable one to write :’) i love writing hurt/comfort, it’s just my absolute fave genre of ff !! i really hope you enjoy this @xoxosblogsblog <3

[insomniakisses]

G!p Caitlin taking you with her to a team dinner and some random dude starts flirting with you and you decide to make her jealous a little bit and she eventually gets fed up and leads you to the bathroom

You’re Mine

A/N: Lowkey changed the request a bit, i just went with it haha. Not exactly the vibe I had hopped for my first WBB fic but.... Yeah. Maybe i could make a part 2 if yall are wanting it!

warnings/notes: I changed this to be alpha!cait hope thats okay, smut, semi public sex, possessive nature, omegaverse au, cait has a dick, afab reader, omega reader, alpha caitlin clark, daddy kink, CNC themes, Toxic!caitlin, cheater!caitlin, Blowjobs, porn with plot, Slightly angsty too, Slight Alpha!Kate x reader, omega space, talk of injuries, blood, possibly slight abusive themes, mentions of cum.

It was a common thing, Caitlin taking you out for meals. Whether it was with her team, the pair of you and Kate or just the two of you. She was just that kind of girlfriend, she liked spending time with you, doting on you and spoiling you beyond belief no matter how much you protest that it’s not necessary.

Today was different though, her attention was not on you at all. No, her attention was on her team and her team only. You put up with it at first, knowing to behave because Caitlin doesn’t like bratty girls. Bratty girls have to be punished. Not to mention the big win the team had just had, she deserved to celebrate and enjoy her night.

But when the second hour of her paying you no mind rolled around you began to get squirmy, you tried to be good you really did but you couldn’t help act up. Especially when your attempts to get her attention were brushed off.

Your first attempt was subtly, shuffling closer to her and looping your hand in her free one, content with the feeling of her skin against yours. That was until she shook your hand off a moment later moving her hand to rest on the table. You pouted then, feeling uneasy that she had brushed you off so easily. The second attempt was a little bolder, and you knew it might cross a line, but you didn’t care. Reaching over you squeezed her upper thigh, but she gave you nothing. Not even a lip twitch.

A soft whine escapes you, quiet enough that only she could hear but she doesn’t react. It makes you sad really, having so little of her attention when she’s usually so wrapped up in your presents that the world becomes white noise. Not tonight though, no, tonight she was focused on anything but you. Even the waitress’s chest and ass apparently judging from the way she bites her lip staring at her as she passes by.

That’s the last straw you think, its one thing for her to ignore you for her team after a win. That you could learn to live with, but to shamelessly check out another omega in front of you after ignoring you all night? Ouch.

You avert your eyes as soon as you see it, like looking any longer might burn you. Your eyes lock with Kate and she shoots you a sympathetic look, clearly more than aware of your feelings. Certainly, more so than your own girlfriend. If you could even call her that.

The two of you had never really used such labels, the girl claiming she didn’t need a label to prove she loved you and only you. And if she loved you and you knew that why did anyone need to know. You felt silly now, sitting there in her jersey her number delicately painted onto your cheek with such detail and care it was clear you had practiced making it look perfect.

Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and humiliation flooding you. Stupid. You thought, negative thoughts swirling round in your head, beginning a spiral. You excused yourself not that anyone batted an eye as you made a beeline for the restrooms. You lean on the counter and shake your head trying to stop the thoughts that hit you.

She’s embarrassed of you.

She doesn’t even want you here.

She just wants you to leave her alone.

She wants the waitress, she’s prettier than you are.

You shake your head, willing the thoughts to go away. Caitlin hadn’t said any of that, you shouldn’t believe it. You sigh, taking a deep breath and splash your face with water. Taking a deep breath readying yourself to go back out there. Caitlin was your ride, so you were stuck there, forced to endure another 2 hours of humiliation. Sat next to Caitlin as she ignored you and eye fucked anything that walked past. You didn’t know what was worse the way she ignored you without a care, the way Kate was sat opposite all kind smiles and eyes full of pity or the way you knew at the end of the night you’d be faced with horny Caitlin’s honeyed words and empty promises. You’d fall for it of course, you always did. Laying there as she hovered above you, thrusting into you without a care, breath like a brewery.

--

Stepping out of the restrooms you didn’t notice Caitlin’s gaze on you, you were too busy apologising to the poor waiter you’d bumped into. Luckily, he hadn’t been carrying anything, but it didn’t diminish your efforts as you rambled on and on apologising to him.

He dismissed you though, a flirty smirk settling onto his face as he rubbed your waist. Complements and examples of how you could make it up to him escaping his lips over and over. Usually, you would push him off with a scoff and a comment about how sleazy it was, but not today. Today you needed the attention, and you didn’t care who it was from.

You didn’t know or care if Caitlin was looking, having ridded yourself of her jersey and washed her number off your face. She didn’t deserve you, not after her behaviour today. An opinion you would stan your ground on. At least for now.

For now, you were content laughing and encouraging the man in front of you. Though, a few minutes later his smirk dropped into a worried frown. You furrow your brows about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear it. A low deep growl from right behind you. Caitlin’s growl. You shudder at it, not liking the way her scent covers you. It feels wrong. Smothering even, in the way you can only smell her. Her anger is heavily evident in the scent, it sets you off, filling you with dread.

You don’t react, you don’t have time to before your being tugged away. Her grips hard around your wrist, it hurts, and you know it will bruise. She growls again, throwing you into the restroom and into the counter not batting an eye when you yelp out in pain.

Her eyes are narrowed on you, her jaw set. She’s beyond pissed, angrier than you’ve ever seen her. You don’t like it. Not the way she looks at you or the harshness of how she’s touching you. Its wrong. It doesn’t feel good, it makes you feel unimportant. Confirming your previous fears.

She’s quick with her movements reaching out and grabbing your jaw, hard. “What, the fuck was that?” She spits, eyes full of disgust. Her anger flaring when you don’t answer, “I asked you a question slut!” she growls unamused when you fail to answer again, your mouth just opening and closing as you stare up at her wide-eyed.

“Can’t work your mouth huh? You’re just a dumb fucking slut, aren’t you?” you don’t answer, she doesn’t let you. Shoving you down onto your knees with a grunt. “Your mouth’s only useful for one thing, isn’t it? Huh?” her voice is deep and raspy, her hands making quick work of freeing her cock.

“Cait-“ you begin to whine, but she talks over you.

 “Oh, just SHUT UP and fucking take it” she grunts grabbing the back of your head and slamming herself down your throat. Groaning in delight when you gag around her, your fists balled up and slapping against her thighs, drool dripping down your chin onto the floor.

“That’s it,” she gathers your hair in both her hands guiding your head along her as she starts a rough pace fucking into your throat. “That’s fucking it, all your good for warning my fucking cock like the cockslut you are.”

She keeps her rough pace as she abuses your throat, loving every gag you make trying to take her, you have no choice, but you just shut your eyes and take it.

“My slut aren’t you baby,” she taunts thrusting fast as she nears her orgasm, “just here for my use, my personal little cock sleeve, fuck!” She gasps pinning your head to her crotch holding you still as her cock twitches in your throat. Her cum painting it as she spurts into you, panting heavily as she does so.

You gasp for air when she finally releases you, coughing slightly after swallowing all her cum. She slaps her cock again your face smugly, wiping cum and drool across your cheek without a care.

“Are you ready to answer me now slut?” she asks, voice calm but sharp.

“Yes daddy, sorry daddy” you whimper shuffling closer to nuzzle into her thigh as she absent-mindedly strokes your hair. The little attention doing wonders to send you slipping into omega space.

She hums, giving your hair a tug as she repeats her earlier question. “So, what the fuck was that outside, hmm? Throwing yourself at that worthless alpha right in front of my face” she scoffs, staring down at you awaiting your answer which comes out mumbled against her thigh as frustrated, and embarrassed tears escape your eyes.

“M’sorry daddy, wanted your attention but you didn’t want me anymore…” you whimper more tears flowing down your blushed cheeks. “You wanted that waitress… not me.”

She sighs at that, hearing the confusion and heart break in your voice as you stare up at her with such sad eyes. Her hand comes down to caress your cheek and you mean into her touch letting her pull you up and into her arms, though you curl into yourself a little when met with her intense gaze.

“Look at me.” She commands guiding your head, so it’s tilted up at you. She waits till she has eye contact before she speaks again, “I want you, only you baby hmm” she coos as she wipes your tears and rests her forehead against yours.

“But I was bad…” you mumble, head getting fuzzy as your hit with a wave of her pheromones pushing you further into omega space weather you want it or not. Your pupils dilating as you let out a whine leaning into her fully eyes closing as she tugs your pants and underwear off, guiding you onto the counter and spreading you.

“That’s why I have to punish you...” you hear her say, missing the smirk on her face as you let your eyes close finding it hard to focus one anything right now, trusting your alpha to take care of you.

She lines herself up slamming in, neglecting wrapping up her dick because your so out of it you won’t stop her. Besides if your hers so what if she cums in you? That’s her right whether you like it or not.

The bathroom is filled with grunts and groans as she pounds into you, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise and slamming into you so hard you’d find it painful in your right mind. There’s no kisses or gentle words, she just pumps out more pheromones keeping you in a state of constant compliance as she pounds away not batting an eye as you hit your head into the mirror ever time she thrusts. Or how you whine in pain from the tap digging into your side.

“That’s it, take it. Fucking take it.”

“All your good for”

“Mine to use whenever I want, however I fucking want.”

“That’s right I fucking own you.”

“Your mine”

She just repeats the same few things grunting against your neck as she bites and sucks at your neck not caring that she’s just mate marked you, and certainly not licking at it to stop the blood or sooth the wound. Instead, she just pounds and pounds into you not caring when people come in or out until she’s done with you. Pulling out with the false promise of coming back for you after she grabs her jacket, instead she leaves you there. Kate watching her leave with the waitress from earlier a little while later, wondering where you could possibly be or if you could see this happen. Scoffing “does she have no shame” she thinks to herself.

--

You’re in and out of consciousness, confused and in pain when Kate finds you. Having taken a trip to the restrooms to fix her hair before leaving. The first thing that hits her is your smell, she smells your in omega space and then her eyes land on you.

You’re still on the counter, slumped up by the mirror. Bruises and scratches litter your skin, blood crusting on your neck as the bite mark remains an open wound. Caitlin’s cum leaking from your pussy and it’s there she sees the hand shaped bruises across your legs and hips. She’s frozen in place, she knew Caitlin wasn’t always the best or most loyal to the omega’s she had but she would have never thought Caitlin could be so cruel especially not to someone so sweet and loving as you. She growls then, silently promising to protect you from now on. Even if she has to fight Caitlin to do it.

You’re shaking as she gets closer your eyes barely open, clearly not able to do anything not even speak. She’s unsure if the constant shaking is from coldness or that your body is in shock, honestly it could be both judging on your state. She’s so thankful that it was her that found you, who knows what another alpha might have done.

She slips off her jacket and helps you into it grabbing some paper towel and wetting it in the sink, gently cleaning at your sensitive pussy. She coos when you jolt and laces her free hand with yours, kissing your knuckles as she talks you through every single thing she does for you. Making sure she notifies you before she makes any kind of movement to touch you.

Once she’s cleaned you up and tended to your wound as best she can with what’s around her, she looks for your clothes placing them in a pile on the counter next to you. You can’t put them back on, there soaked in god knows what from the floor and half ripped from Caitlin’s lack of care.

“For fucks sake Caitlin! You asshole.” she mumbles under her breath. Shoving them into her bag to deal with later.

Slipping out of her sweats and helping you into them she can’t help chuckle at how long they are on you, rolling up the bottoms until they rest at your ankles. She takes her hoodie off then and ties it round her waist covering whatever her baggy t-shirt didn’t of her boxers. Once she’s satisfied, she won’t flash anyone she guides you into her arms.

“C’mon then babygirl, let’s get you somewhere safe, okay?” She doesn’t really expect an answer back, not in this state anyway, but she asks regardless. A small smile tugging at her lips when you manage a slight nod as she carries you out to her car, setting you gently into the seat and buckling you up. With one gentle kiss to your head, she closes the door and gets in the driver’s side, making her way back to her apartment. She’d never been so glad she moved out into her own place. Her only focus being making sure you’re okay

[staylovesmiley]

So this is kind of built off someone’s previous ask but kind of angstier I guess

But thoughts on poly skz x reader who are away on tour. And as much as they love the reader and will miss her they still have each other so they have someone to love and hold every night , they still getting laid all the damn time. But she’s just at home all sad and lonely cause all her 8 boyfriends are gone but she doesn’t want to be a bother cause she knows they are busy on tour

Angst is my specialty hehe~

Poor reader would feel so lonely without her boyfriends (as someone who’s is somewhat long distance with my own partner??? I mean like- a little over an hour but still lol) the boys would also be gutted to not have her there but like you said…they aren’t exactly lonely-

They would try begging her to join them on tour but as usual they got a “I can’t- you know I have work too or else I would.” Or something of the sort in response and it would SUCK telling them no even when they offer to pay for your ticket to come see them but ugh being an adult means having responsibilities unfortunately…

They would send you videos and pictures and try and keep you updated on their lives on tour so you don’t feel left out but it only makes you feel that much lonelier. But you signed up for this, you knew their careers would mean you would have to be apart from them sometimes while they got to be together…I feel like after a while, when your replies to them started to become short with the pressure of pretending that everything is okay and tbh I feel like Minho would clock that shit first. Immediately he is calling you out asking what is wrong and you would try and hide it as till until he starts blowing up your phone with calls until you finally answer and hearing his voice sound so concerned would be the tipping point and you are crying and confessing how lonely you’ve been feeling to him in seconds.

After calming you down and talking through it he convinces you to say something to the others so you have a group call where you all talk about your feelings and how the distance has been so hard- and you feel better afterwards and life goes on as it had been, counting down the days until they get back to you….until Seungmin shows up at your work place with flowers and you are so shocked you think you might be hallucinating and he admits that he may have impulsively bought a plane ticket while you were all on a call that night and wanted to surprise you~ it’s only for a few days since he still has tour to go back to but instead of spending his free days in between stops in whatever city they were in last he decided to fly back to spend as much time as he could with his beautiful girlfriend who he missed so so much and for the rest of the tour, a few of your other boyfriends decide to do the same thing and you feel much less lonely than you did before~

I know it was meant to be angsty but I’ve been in a fluffy comfort mood lately- been super stressed with work and could use comfort hehe

[peachsayshi]

PEACH YOUR BABY DADDY!SUKUNA.....

He distanced himself bc he's not a good guy, he's got a shit job, can barely pay child support but he does what he can. And he always looks after your daughter when you're busy, takes every moment to be with her that he can, even tho he knows that you're the more capable parent. You were always too good for him, and he was your bad boy fling, your mistake.

"I think you love momma more." His daughter told him, bless her unfiltered thoughts. She was probably right. Somehow, after all this time, he still found you completely stunning. He felt guilty for the way he treated you, seeing you persevere and thrive as you've gotten older. If anything, you got more beautiful with each passing day, and he couldn't be happier that his child was being raised by you, even if that meant he had to be out of the picture.

"maybe I do." He chuckled, a tinge of regret to his words. He remembered the ways he hurt you, the look on your face when he made you cry. His selfishness. It was always his selfishness that got in the way. "But I'm not good at it."

// brutally soft // III. 

baby daddy!sukuna x reader 

tags: non curse au; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different; mentions drug use and drinking; mentions cheating; sukuna being soft; unrequited love; angsty | | read this for more context & this & this

note: (I am so sorry this took me so long to respond to) but!! you don't get to leave something like this and not expect me to sweetly return the favor by meddling with your feelings the way you did mine. because holy shit, nyx, just hearing sukuna say "I'm not good at it" in a hushed, sad voice made me want to take my own ribs out.

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

"mama! guess what!" your daughter says. "I have a secret!"

you smile to yourself because she always has a secret to share these days. little, innocent things that capture her attention which seem worthy of keeping confidential.

"you know," you say as you help her into her dress. "you're not supposed to tell secrets when you have them..."

"but I tell you everything, mama!"

you lift her up in your arms, the weight of her body getting heavier by the day and reminding you of how fast she's growing.

sukuna is taking her to visit her uncle yuji, and she has been over the moon about it. you place her on the seat of her vanity, and proceed to fix her hair since sukuna will be arriving in twenty minutes, and you want to make sure that she's all set once her dad gets here. you giggle at her response, "okay, okay, what's the secret?"

she looks at you from the mirror's reflection and covers her mouth as she chuckles.

"hey, what's with the sly face?" you prod, holding a chunk of her hair gently between your palm.

"do you know ms. kiko?" she asks, referring to her pre-school teacher.

"mhmm, what about her?"

she giggles again. "well, I overheard her telling mrs. chiyo that she thinks daddy is cute!!"

your heart thumps. oddly.

you're not immune to the way that the women look at the father of your child. it's the same alluring, seductive energy that drew you to sukuna in the first place.

but it's been years since you've both been intimate together in any capacity, you're sure that he's probably got someone on call if and when necessary. considering he has more spare time than you do without a child running around, you're pretty sure that sukuna is satisfied with whatever situationship he's in. you've learned to swallow the discomfort of the idea of sukuna with other women. just like how you had to bury the hurt of the very one who tore your relationship apart.

you hum at her observation, your fingers idly braiding her hair.

it's not like you were single anymore either. you've been casually dating a lawyer on and off. it wasn't serious per se, but it wasn't a fleeting relationship where it made you feel like you were entirely free of the attachment.

he's even met sukuna at this point.

granted those dates are few and far between, but you were a single mother who worked full time.

trying to commit to a relationship is hard.

even though, you would love to share all this with...someone.

"anyway, I had to warn daddy to be careful..." your daughter interjects.

"warn him?" you repeat with a smile, her choice of words adorable.

"yeah! so, I told daddy that ms. kiko was in love with him, and asked him if I should tell her to stop..."

"stop?"

"being in love with him!" she responds with a grimace.

that makes you laugh. "and why would you do that, hmm?" you question gently for fun.

"because I know that daddy loves you more, mama!"

your heart thumps again, harder this time. so hard you feel it nearly knock the wind out of you. you clear your throat to ease the apprehension while your daughter kicks her legs with anticipation.

"and how would you know that?" "because," she insists, "daddy told me that he loves you more than anyone else in this world"

her words spill out of her, a glass of water that's been carelessly knocked over. you scrunch your brows as each word registers into your brain, soaking over your to do lists and mental checks.

"what?" you whisper as you stare at this little girl who has already carried on the conversation.

"after me, obviously," she presses - because no one can take her place when it comes to the love that you and sukuna both give her.

"wait-wait..." you say a little breathless, your hands suddenly trembling as you do your best to finish the job you started. "what did your daddy tell you? I didn't quite-"

"he said he loves you more than anyone else in the world..." she repeats, her focus on the rogue hair brush that sits at her small vanity. "so, yeah, that's why I asked daddy if I should tell ms. kiko to stop saying he's cute..."

"your...your daddy is just being silly..." you murmur, trying to underplay the statement. you slip the hairband around her second braid to secure the style in place.

impossible, you think. that's impossible.

so much time has passed between you both.

you buried that part of your past long ago.

left it and refused to look back-

"nu-uh. he said that I don't have to say anything to ms. kiko. that it's okay because he loves momma more, anyway. but daddy also told me once that he's not that good at it," she adds on, her fingers picking at the bristles of her bright purple brush, "whatever that means..."

"when did you and your daddy have this conversation..."

the realization hits her then, and she stares up at you before covering her mouth. "oops," she states, glancing from side to side, "I pinky promised daddy I wouldn't tell you that..."

before you can fish out anything else from her, she hops off her seat, her feet pattering away as she moves across the room towards her pile of plushies.

"who should I take with me?" she says loudly, brushing aside the fact that she said far more than she should. she stands with her hip jutted out and her finger pressed against her lips, her back facing you.

you have to lean against her closet to steady yourself. you do your best to rationalize sukuna's words, trying to decipher the pieces in this game of whispers.

your mind flashes to the horrid break up five and a half years ago. a memory that exists hazily in the back of your mind, to the moment of you standing in sukuna's dingy old apartment holding a lacy white bra between your fingers.

it was not yours.

"what is this?" you gasped, your breath straining as your chest rose and fell with unease. "what the fuck is this..."

it's the only time you've ever seen sukuna panicked.

your memory only captures his words in blurs.

of him drinking too much.

way too much.

of him not waking up alone but swearing that he thought he was was you.

of him not recollecting his own thoughts because he blacked out that night.

of him being just as shocked when he realized the warm body next to him was not his girlfriend.

he begged you to forgive him.

"Baby, I swear. I fucking swear I will clean up my act. I-I'll never fucking drink again. Fuck, I went too far last night. One of the guys was passing around these pills I shouldn't have fucked around with them..."

you couldn't.

you couldn't accept any of it.

you already tolerated so much with him.

the drinking, the recreational drug use, his inability to keep a job, and him nearly ending up in jail for causing fights.

but you saw so much more in that man - and yet, he proved you wrong.

this betrayal spoke volumes.

this betrayal proved to you that you were expendable to him too.

that you just weren't that important.

that shadow of that man doesn't exist anymore. not with this new version of sukuna in your life.

he almost makes you forget the past. this man; your daughter's sunlight. her knight in shining armor. the source of her joy.

he may not have been good at loving you, but that little girl has him in the palm of her hand.

and he loves her with all his might, it feels like his absolution.

"mama?" your daughter calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she's standing right in front of you now, holding a rabbit plushie in one hand and a penguin in the other.

"can I take both?" she asks innocently, her wide eyes glittering brightly as she remains oblivious to your own personal drowning.

"n-no," you stammer out, and affectionately poke the small dimple in her cheek. "just one, my love. we all know your uncle yuji will have more for you when you see him..."

her eyes widen, "that's right!" she exclaims, "he always finds the best and softest ones!"

the bell rings, and you abruptly stand on your feet.

your throat tight, your stomach fluttering.

"daddy's here!" your daughter cheers, and instantly runs out of the room.

you pick up her weekend bag and sling it over your shoulder. you pause and exhale softly, telling yourself to relax before following in her footsteps.

sukuna's deep voice greets you first.

"look at these braids on you..."

you find them both at the foyer, your daughter already scooped up in her father's big, muscular arms. his hand is tugging at one of her braids and she's smiling wildly in his direction.

he's wearing an oversized leather jacket, the fit only bulking up his stature. your daughter is gripping his black tee between her hands, and she yanks it gently before asking: "can we go now?"

sukuna smiles and your spine shivers.

age has done wonders for him too.

"easy, princess, let me say hi to your mom first..."

your fingers grip onto the strap of her weekender bag nervously. you don't know why you suddenly feel very aware of how you look.

of the fact that you're completely barefaced and running on five hours of sleep. that your choice in clothes is a pair of unflattering sweats and hoodie which has some coffee stains on it. you desperately need to wash your hair, and are due for a manicure appointment.

sukuna turns to face you, "hey you, I didn't notice you standing there..."

you clear your throat again, "hi! sorry...I uh-I didn't want to interrupt..."

sukuna adjusts the hold on your daughter, allowing you to approach him as he couldn't take off his boots.

"she all ready for me?" he asks.

"mhmm" you answer quietly, at a complete loss for words because all you can hear is "daddy said he loves you more than anyone else in the world."

you hand off the bag to him, which he takes with ease.

"it's not too late to join us," he offers, but you give him a small smile and shrug of your shoulders.

"trapped with work unfortunately,"

sukuna glances in your daughters direction, "I tried..."

she pouts your way. "you sure, mama?"

"yeah, my love, I am sure."

you slide into sukuna's frame, doing your best to carefully not touch any part of his broad canvas. you stand up on your tip toes and place multiple kisses on your daughter's cheek.

"I love you and I am going to miss you like crazy these next two days," you state sweetly, feeling her wrap her arms around your neck to give you a hug and a kiss in return. "promise me you'll be on your best behavior..."

"I promise!!" she answers.

you find the courage to meet sukuna's soft eyes, the ease on his face doing nothing to help your shattering state.

"I guess you're both set then," you say with a sigh.

he furrows his brow at your tone, and leans forward to make direct eye contact toward you. your lips part slightly at the close proximity of his face with yours, and he tilts his head like a curious cat before asking: "you okay?"

your heat burns so naturally. your heart ready to climb it's way up your throat. you blink back in surprise at his question, and stutter out a "I-I'm fine..."

"you sure?" he presses as he casually stands upright again, like he didn't just pop the bubble of your personal space. "you seem a little off..."

"I am okay," you reassure with a firm nod, before dropping your gaze down at your feet as you shift your balance. "I-I just have a lot on my mind today is all..."

there is a gentle tap just underneath your chin, your attention lifts up to look back at sukuna. his expression is stoic, but you can see the concern in his tense jaw. he taps the space just beneath your bottom lip, your insides turning at the gesture he used to do to you countless times before.

"anything I need to be worried about?" he asks calmly, his choice of words a veil over his obvious unsettlement.

you feel like you really can't breathe then.

your mind spins to when you carelessly kissed him. to when he returned the gesture at your daughter's play.

what seemed so innocent now feels like a serious overstep.

your hand circles around his wrist and you pull him away from you. "I'm fine, Ryomen," you acknowledge politely, trying to keep your words detached but kind.

after you see them both off and shut the front door, you find yourself pressed against the wooden frame. your back weakly glides down the surface until you're sitting on the floor. you bring your knees close to your chest, shaking at the prospect not because you don't want it to be true, but because you are terrified of allowing yourself to even open your heart to sukuna again.

he broke you. he hurt you. and yet, he somehow was the only thing that healed those wounds.

he is the reason why you were able to bring your daughter into this world. he treated her with immense love and supported you in every capacity to build this imperfect little family with you.

ryomen sukuna - your dark angel. the source of your deepest pain, and the reason for your happiest joy.

the wall that you've kept between you and sukuna exists as a safety barrier. you can peek over whenever necessary, but it doesn't mean you ever have to cross that boundary.

and yet, you've caught yourself with the consideration of sitting on the ledge, or maybe even stepping onto the other side.

all it takes for you is to then see the cracks and damages of the past as a reminder of what keeps stopping you.

"get a grip of yourself" you mutter out loud.

you let go of that love. you remind yourself, and you both are better for it.

sukuna is a completely different individual now, and you are in a much happier place than you were before.

the whirlwind romance, the intense passion and addictive excitement fizzled. the sparkle having faded the moment his betrayal was revealed.

maybe your love for each other is just too destructive when intertwined so closely. but existing loosely as small strings, and tethered to the singular entity that lives and breathes because of it...

maybe that should be more than enough for you both.

and you don't know why the thought breaks your heart a little.

[booksandabeer]

Crowdsourcing a Fic Rec List: Stucky & Peter Parker

Well, look at that!

Due to the numerous responses to this post, and since things have become a little cluttered there (different reblog threads, some recs are in tags or in comments, etc), I thought it would be a shame if anything got lost. So, I decided to compile a list of all the submitted recs for Stucky fics that also feature Peter Parker. Of course, I couldn't help myself and added a rec of my own. Fics that were mentioned multiple times are only listed once, and, if one was provided, I kept the original commentary. I hope I credited everyone correctly. If I got something wrong or missed anything, please let me know.

Thank you to everyone who shared recs, commented, or reblogged the original post to get more eyes on it. You're all wonderful! 💙

Here we go:

💙 recommended by @thankssaragorn

🕸 taking my time but I don't know where by cosmicocean | 35K, T so much fun, post-TWS Bucky lowkey mentoring Peter in being a hero and then some family and healing stuff, very sweet. 🕸 Steve Rogers Is (Not) A Good Influence by attackofthezee | 4K, T a goofy oneshot where Peter joins Steve on his Bucky-hunt. 🕸 the rattle of their hearts by iron_spider | 59K, T | part 1 of 2 in rattle universe series an IW fix-it where Tony & Steve try to fix things and Peter & Bucky are trapped in the soul stone together, also trying to fix things. Features irondad if that ain't your thing. 🕸 Dear Teacher, With Love by fancyh | 61K, T doesnt ~strictly~ fit the prompt but i love it so much im always gonna rec it. Bucky becomes a HS teacher post-TWS and Peter is in his class they rlly don't interact a ton but I just love this fic i can't help it.

❤ recommended by @sparkagrace

🕸 Steve and Bucky low key adopt Peter Parker by Andthrowmethekey | series in 3 parts | 3.5K, T 🕸 Drive It Like You Stole It: A Bodyswap by AggressiveWhenStartled | 28K, E | part 1 of 2 in The Old Codgers GreatestHits Album series

🤍 recommended by @eternalspine

🕸 longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak by honeycombclaire | 96K, M | part 1 of 2 in trigger words series Peter being raised by Bucky in Hydra as an assassin but he was Tony’s biological son that had been kidnapped as a toddler. I literally cannot say enough good things about this fic you should all go read it right now. I would inject it in my veins if I could. It genuinely took me several days to be normal again after reading it. There’s even a sequel!

💙 recommended by @arctic-turtle-cassiopeia

🕸 Astronomy in Reverse by pansley | 185K, T

❤ recommended by @maplefiasco

🕸 Make it Till You Fake It by AggressiveWhenStartled | 4K, E another super fun one by [this author]. 🕸 When I Am On Your Shoulders by Lady_Blackwater | 165K, M Steve reconnects with Bucky while going through a divorce from Tony and trying to navigate parenting their teen son Peter. I remember binging this in a day, I couldn't put it down.

🤍 recommended by @funkylittlelurker

🕸 Is this child Venomous? by rWolfWrites | 80K, M | part 1 of 4 in Stucky Shares Custody of Peter Parker series It's angsty as all get out, but it has a happy ending. Basically, it's a HYDRA Peter AU, wherein Peter is an asset right along Bucky. Peter is like, 12 at the youngest, so it's mcu Peter, don't worry. Bucky drops Peter off a Steve's house, designation Steve as Peter's new Handler. You can see why this might be bad. I won't spoil much, but the Maximoff twins also come into play! (Bucky saves them)

💙 recommended by @leihaddock

🕸 The Trials and Tribulations of the Watermelon Werewolf by BlueSimplicity | 67K, E Explicit between Steve and Bucky & Bucky basically lowkey adopts Peter. 🕸 Rainbow Dinosaurs by holla_the_forestfairy | ~1K, G short but sweet queer story

❤ recommended by @fsbc-librarian

🕸 Peter & Bucky Are Pals by DJ_unicornsrgr8 | series in 11 parts | 147K, G-T This series is set in the verse of Owlet's Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail, which is absolutely wonderful. 🕸 Steve Rogers' Dad Face and Other Common Hazards by AggressiveWhenStartled | 4K, T | part 1 of 4 in Workplace Hazards series 🕸 we leave through the fire by justanotherblond | 41K, T | part 1 of 3 in timshel series -> Also, always worth checking out the library for more fics!

🤍 recommended by @booksandabeer

🕸 Praetorian by RecoveringTheSatellites | 28K, M | part 1 of 2 in Amor Manet series Historical AU featuring Bucky as a pagan witch, Steve as a disgraced former Praetorian Guard, and Peter as a young recruit to the Roman army. Maybe a bit of a cheat, since Peter is not central to the story, but in the moments he does appear, he definitely makes an impression, and what we get to see of his mentor-mentee relationship with Steve really resonates. Also, look, this is just a banger of a fic with lots of action and romance that everyone should read.

💙 recommended by @stuckydrewx

🕸 Extra special treat! Drew shared a whole other fic rec list that she made a few months ago. Yay!

Once again, thank you so much to everyone who contributed to this crowdsourced rec list—you're all fantastic!

[kradogsrats]

Oh! I think about this a lot, though I'm not really sure why besides that how people make decisions about children is inherently kind of interesting to me.

The Aaravos situation is unusual in that there's a relatively short timeline attached to it—they aren't putting off having children until some nebulous future time when there might finally not be some kind of crisis somewhere, they're putting it off for seven years, at which point they will be... all of 25 years old, which is generally considered to be a much better time to have a baby than 19 or 20. I've read stuff in other fandoms where the decision of whether to have a child during a time of threatened world crisis becomes about weighing the risks of the child growing up without one or both parents, or growing up in a dangerous and war-torn environment, or not growing up at all against the risk that the world will simply never be sufficiently safe. With a definite finality of "within ten years, either we have stopped Aaravos for good or the world has ended"... they might as well wait, which may or may not be bittersweet depending on how badly they want to get started.

(One thing that's interestingly vague about this setting is what/when is considered to be "adulthood." That's a number that has been pushed later and later in modern times, which is not a bad thing! However, looking at the characters themselves—Rayla is functionally a child soldier at 15, and Soren is already an officer in the Crownguard at 18, meaning he probably joined and was expected to be ready to die for his king at 16 or earlier. Callum being High Mage to Ezran makes sense, but is also literally putting a teenager in a government cabinet position. What makes all of that slightly less weird is that culturally, here in real world USAmerica and/or Canada, we have essentially added an entire new stage of non-adult life after 18, during which you are expected to figure out a career trajectory of some kind. When you remove the expectation of higher education from the question, "I have already launched my lifelong career at 16" works a little better. At that point, "I will start a family at 20-21" also sounds less insane because they've already been operating as an adult for several years.)

Anyway what I think would be really interesting about the whole question is the competing influences on both sides—Janai and Amaya explicitly get married during Karim's rebellion because she's "done putting off the good things for fear of the bad," and I think Ethari and Runaan would have a thought or two about waiting for the time to be "right" versus valuing yourselves and your family. Bringing a child into the world is obviously a bit different from getting married, but I think the "don't let the evil in the world dictate when you can seize joy" philosophy could still apply.

On the other hand, you have the personal experiences of Callum, Rayla, and Ezran with having absent parents. Callum lost his father as a young child, then his mother not long after, and was raised by his stepfather. Ezran never had a mother in his life, and lost his father, as well. One set of Rayla's parents left to defend the world and never came back. I think they'd all have some Big Feelings about those things—most obviously Rayla's parents, as the obvious closest analogue to their situation, but also like... it's at least kind of implied that Sarai and Damian had a child despite both of them knowing that he would likely not live to see that child grow up. I think it's unlikely that Callum doesn't feel Some Kind Of Way about that. Parental loss/abandonment trauma affects basically every character in this entire story, and while they all deal with it a bit differently... they all gotta deal with it.

(And of course, if you want to get extra angsty—what happens if suddenly OOPS ALL PREGNANT? What if it's in year one post-s7 versus year six post-s7? Do they keep the baby? Do they let Aaravos prevent them from keeping a child who is otherwise wanted? I feel like that's a much harder choice than whether to start trying for one.)

Rayllum, 10 babies and Xadian family planning

I’m trying to post the next chapter of Dark Alternative, but AO3 is very wonky, so you’re going to be subjected to my rambling thoughts on my new WIP for Work in Progress Wednesday.

So, over my vacation, I’ve been plagued by post-season 7 fanfic ideas. Short fics, obviously. No more than three chapters, as usual.

What’s got me intrigued right now, is how the continent of Xadia, or at least, a select group of people, will manage with living with the knowledge that Aaravos, in some form, is coming back in seven years. How would that affect politics and society, as well as the individual characters and the choices they make knowing that?

The regular folks would struggle to miss that whole eternal darkness and dead creatures thing that happened, but what do they know about exactly what went down?

And what do they know about what’s to come?

You know me, I’m a Rayllum person, so pretty much any fic of mine is a Rayllum fic, and this current idea is focused on how this particular threat affects the next stage of their lives.

Without a doubt, when we last saw Rayllum they were totally committed to each other and are fully ride or die… but how would that devotion relate to their future, in particular, the subject of children?

Now, I’m an angster in my deep dark heart, so while I’m sure many people could conceive of a fic where Rayllum are secure in their ability to defeat Aaravos come round two, that ain’t where my brain was ever going to go.

Rayllum are in love and clearly want a future together. Callum was openly planning a quaint little one in the Silvergrove before they were rudely interrupted by the whole end of the world dealio.

So, where does that leave them now (in my angsty reality anyway)?

In their youth, they both leaned into their more paranoid natures (Rayla leaving without Callum in TTM and Callum getting physical with Soren in season 4), and while they’ve both grown and matured since then, would such a threat as the world ending be enough to bring that paranoia right on back?

Which leaves me with my current fic planning conundrum.

Assuming Rayllum decided to forego the whole having kids thing until Aaravos is imprisoned again, how likely is it that they could plan when to have a family.

I’ve seen people say that the world of The Dragon Prince is in a medieval setting, and so people had children younger then, which, aside from not being the entire story, doesn’t feel like it really applies to a world with magic and dragons, a world that lacks the sexism and gender roles that are also associated with medieval times or other more grounded works set then.

Additionally, looking at canon, I think it could be reasonably argued that some form of birth control is readily available in the setting. In fact, I think it’s likely multiple forms of birth control exist in the world of The Dragon Prince.

From humans to elves, we don’t see large families normally associated with the inability to plan a family via the use of effective birth control. The “largest” family we see are the Sunfire monarchs, with three children. Viren and Lissa had two children only. Sarai may well have had more children had she lived, but Rayla’s parents spent multiple years at the Storm Spire and she remained an only child.

I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment at the Storm Spire either. Sure, they could abstain or get creative, but oof, hasn’t enough been asked of them?

Even looking at prior generations, we do not see large families. Given the closeness in ages of the siblings we know of, it also seems unlikely to me that children were lost in childbirth or to childhood illnesses.

To me, it seems far more likely that family planning is active in Xadia and would be a tool Callum and Rayla could exercise.

Clearly, no birth control is infallible (or I guess it can be, magic and all) and I assume Miyana’s twins were unplanned.

Personally, I head canon Rayla herself was an oopsie baby in order to further explain the complications of her parents being called away to join the Dragon Guard.

Where am I going with this? I don’t even know anymore.

I suppose, to me, it’s not a foregone conclusion that in seven years Rayllum would have a kid (or indeed multiple). The setting of the world doesn’t imply that it’s particularly difficult to prevent pregnancy. In fact, the small families imply to me that family planning is a cultural norm among elves and humans.

Faced with the imminent threat of Aaravos’ return, would Rayllum plan to start a family? Certainly, people put off having children for far lesser reasons.

We also don’t know how using dark magic, even in that limited capacity, has affected Callum and the potential for him to get possessed again. It was clearly enough to physically mark him, but does that go deeper?

Would imprisoning Aaravos once again result in an inevitable possession?

Not great when Dad gets taken over and abandons the family.

Or worse, Mum has to take him out.

Angsty though!

As usual, I’ll be doing my own thing in my fics, but I’m interested to see where Arc 3 goes with this (optimistically assuming we get it). There are a lot of factors at play to explain why we might see a lot of the characters in a state of stasis. Seven years isn’t that long when you’re facing the world ending, after all. Particularly when you’re likely to play a very active part in trying to stop that returning apocalypse.

So, which way to go? I see the angst potential in both.

On one hand, you’ve got the pain and desperation of protecting your kid from a returned Aaravos, or perhaps worse, a possessed Dad.

But on the other, you’ve got two people who likely want to take the next steps in their lives, but feel the pressure of a ticking bomb haunting them and potentially preventing them from moving forward.

Either way, bring on the pain.

[acowardinmordor]

Hold up a vision of the angsty admirer au just struck me. It’s a little skip ahead. Sorry.

The party still breaks into the counselors office and sees the records and puts together that it isn’t random. They put together that it’s about guilt and depression and self hatred.

They all, rationally, assume it’s because he’s repeating senior year.

Lucas, though.

Sweet, kind, supportive Lucas, who has a box of letters apologizing blindly to someone that Eddie had intentionally torn apart. Lucas, who has barely held his tongue since that day at Hellfire. Lucas, who admires the hell out of Steve, wants to be him, and who thinks he made it worse. Who thinks he’s at fault for Steve being cursed.

Somewhere in between Steve getting out of Vecnas powers, and this, Chrissy died (sorry babe) and it’s not pinned on Eddie, but that’s where suspicion is leaning.Nancy and Robin talked to him, convinced him that Steve is fine, explained a small part of the upside down, and told him to keep his head down, begged him to just stay in the trailer, and above all, not to get involved further.

Steve is shutting down on them, and after they saw the notes about Chrissy and Fred, they’re pushing him. Which is making it worse. Robin is spiraling, Max is furious. Dustin is on the edge of hysterical.

For whatever reason, they need to talk to Eddie again. Information about Victor Creel probably. Since most of them are freaked out by Steve, it’s only Nancy and Lucas that go. Yeah, Lucas should have been listening while Nancy talked through a plan of what they were and were not going to tell Eddie, but he wasn’t. He tells her that after Eddie’s, they need to go by his house, that he has something to help Steve.

Pull up at the trailer, and Lucas cracks down the center. He runs from Nancy’s car, shoves open the door, immediately steps inside, and fucking decks Eddie. Puts him on the ground in one hit and because his entire hand now hurts, Lucas is looking for something to use as a replacement for a bat. It’s easy math for him. He knows why Vecna was able to go after Steve. He knows that if it wasn’t for this asshole with his caste assumptions about high school, Steve would be safe.

Hawkins wouldn’t be, Lucas knows that, but they’d have Steve, and if they have Steve, then they — then Lucas will feel like they’re going to survive.

Nancy stops him before Lucas can actually beat Eddie with an ashtray.

“If you hadn’t said that to him! If you actually looked at people! If you listened to them and trusted us! If you could just understand that not everyone has to choose a side, he would be safe! He’s dying and it’s your fault, Eddie! He’s gonna die, and it’s going to be because you never really see anyone, just the person you think they’re supposed to be!”

Eddie hasn’t been looped in yet. He doesn’t know what Lucas is talking about, but it’s Lucas screaming at him, which is enough for the pieces to come closer. It’s not like Eddie hasn’t been thinking about the way Steve said he wanted to sleep. It’s been half his brain at any second of the day. He’d broken every promise to his secret admirer, thrown insults like blades at every soft spot Steve has, and until that Friday, he thought he was standing on the moral high ground.

Yeah. It’s enough for Eddie to realize that the curse is because of what he did to Steve. On the ground, looking up at a freshman who loves Steve more than Eddie had the chance to, Eddie can’t even find the words to start an apology.

Nancy yanks Lucas back farther. She doesn’t help Eddie up though. She’s also damn smart, and can put clues together.

“Man, you need to—“ Eddie starts, talking to the other person in the room who, Lucas entirely missed in the tunnel vision of his rage. “—you gotta come back later. Pay me later.” He scrambles to the bathroom and slams the door.

“Yeah, i guess I… Lucas, make sure you ice that hand, your form was no good.”

Finally, Lucas turns, along with Nancy, to find Patrick, fidgeting and uncomfortable, with a little baggie in his hand. He pulls some cash from his wallet, drops it on the table.

And look. Lucas would love to stop and talk to his teammate, who is looking very messed up. Who obviously needs someone. But Steve is going to die, and he can’t think beyond that fact. Honestly, Nancy is the same.

That’s why they’ve started a whispered discussion of how fast they can get answers and leave when they notice that Patrick is frozen in place, two steps from the door.

Link post

[andy-15-07]

Can i request an angsty Joel Miller fic? :) Joel, Ellie, and the reader are traveling together when they are suddenly ambushed by raiders. In the chaos, both Ellie and the reader are captured. Joel is faced with a heartbreaking decision: he can only save one of them. Despite the reader’s deep feelings for Joel, she recognizes that, given his unresolved grief over Sarah’s death, he will undoubtedly choose Ellie. No matter what the reader has done for Joel, she knows that his emotional bond with Ellie will always come first.

The Weight of Loss

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1728 | Requests are open! (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The rusty gate screeched open, a jarring sound against the otherwise peaceful morning. Joel, ever vigilant, jerked his head up, hand instinctively reaching for the shotgun slung across his back. "Ambush," he growled, eyes scanning the overgrown field beyond.

Y/n, startled, fumbled for her own pistol, her gaze darting between Joel and the encroaching figures. "How many?" she whispered, her voice tight with fear.

"Looks like three," Joel replied, his voice low and dangerous. "Stay close, Ellie."

Ellie, ever the pragmatist, nodded, her gaze fixed on the approaching figures. "Ready when you are, Joel."

The raiders emerged from the trees, a motley crew of scavengers armed with makeshift weapons. The leader, a hulking brute with a scarred face, grinned viciously. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little feast."

The ensuing firefight was a blur of motion and gunfire. Joel, a seasoned survivor, moved with a deadly grace, his every shot finding its mark. Y/n, fighting alongside him, was a whirlwind of motion, her small frame a blur as she weaved through the chaos.

But the raiders were relentless. One, a wiry young man with a crazed look in his eyes, managed to get a shot off, hitting Y/n in the shoulder. She cried out, clutching the wound, her vision blurring.

Joel, seeing Y/n fall, roared in fury. He turned his attention to the young man, a cold rage burning in his eyes. The fight devolved into a brutal melee, Joel a whirlwind of violence, his grief and fury fueling his actions.

In the chaos, two more raiders managed to overpower Ellie, dragging her away. Joel, realizing what had happened, turned to see Y/n lying on the ground, her face pale, blood staining her shirt.

He knelt beside her, his voice rough with worry. "Y/n, damn it, stay with me."

Y/n, her breath coming in ragged gasps, managed a weak smile. "Don't...don't worry about me, Joel. Go after Ellie."

"I can't leave you here," Joel said, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't..."

Y/n placed a trembling hand on his cheek, her eyes filled with a love both profound and heartbreaking. "Joel," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "I know you have to. You have to save her."

Joel looked at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of grief and despair. He understood. He knew, deep down, that if given the choice, he would always choose Ellie. The weight of his grief over Sarah, the guilt that clung to him like a shroud, would always pull him towards the girl who reminded him so much of his lost daughter.

Y/n, reading the turmoil in his eyes, squeezed his hand. "It's alright," she whispered, her voice fading. "I understand. Please...save her."

Joel looked at her, his heart breaking. He wanted to stay with her, to hold her, to make her pain go away. But he knew he couldn't. He had to save Ellie.

With a heavy heart, Joel turned and ran towards the direction where the raiders had taken Ellie. He ran with a desperate urgency, fueled by a primal need to protect the girl who had become his surrogate daughter.

Later

Joel finally reached the raider's hideout, a dilapidated farmhouse nestled deep within the woods. The stench of decay and violence hung heavy in the air. He moved cautiously, his senses on high alert.

He found Ellie in a makeshift prison, bound and gagged, fear and anger swirling in her eyes.

"Ellie," Joel whispered, his voice hoarse with relief. He quickly freed her, his gaze searching for any injuries.

Ellie, once freed, launched herself at him, burying her face in his chest. "Joel! I was so scared..."

Joel held her close, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "I know, sweetheart. I know." He looked at her, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Ellie pulled back, her eyes searching his face. "What about Y/n?"

Joel's face hardened. "I...I had to leave her."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Why? What happened?"

Joel hesitated, the memory of Y/n's pale face and the despair in her eyes flashing before him. "She...she was injured. I couldn't save both of you."

Ellie's face paled. "Oh God, Joel..."

Joel averted his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. He knew he would never be able to explain the agonizing choice he had been forced to make. The guilt, the regret, it would haunt him forever.

They stayed in the farmhouse for the rest of the day, tending to their wounds and planning their escape. Ellie, despite her own fears, was concerned about Y/n. "We have to go back, Joel. We can't just leave her."

Joel looked at her, his expression grim. "We can't. It's too dangerous."

Ellie argued with him, her voice filled with desperation. "But what if she's still alive? What if she needs us?"

Joel remained adamant. "We can't risk it, Ellie. We have to survive."

Ellie looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. She understood his logic, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.

They eventually managed to escape the farmhouse, leaving behind the horrors of their captivity. But the memory of Y/n, her pale face and her heartbroken eyes, haunted them both.

Days later

They were traveling through a dense forest, the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps on the fallen leaves. Ellie, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke.

"Joel," she began, her voice hesitant, "I know you had to make a choice. But..."

Joel sighed, the weight of his guilt heavy on his chest. "I know, Ellie. I know I made the wrong one."

Ellie looked at him, her eyes filled with a surprising understanding. "No, Joel. You did what you had to do. You saved me."

Joel looked at her, surprised by her words. "But what about Y/n?"

Ellie looked away, her gaze fixed on the trees ahead. "I know she wouldn't want you to blame yourself. She loved you, Joel. More than anything."

Joel's heart ached. "I know."

Ellie turned to him, her eyes searching his face. "You have to forgive yourself, Joel. You can't let this consume you."

Joel looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and despair. He knew she was right. He had to learn to live with the guilt, to carry the weight of his loss without letting it destroy him.

They continued their journey, the memory of Y/n a constant shadow hanging over them. But slowly, tentatively, they began to heal. They learned to live with the loss, to cherish the memories they had shared with Y/n, while also moving forward, one weary step at a time.

The forest floor crunched under their boots, each step a jarring reminder of the silence that had followed Y/n's sacrifice. Ellie, despite her earlier words of comfort, was struggling. Nightmares plagued her, vivid and terrifying, filled with the image of Y/n's pale face and the sound of her fading breath.

"She wouldn't want this, Ellie," Joel said, his voice gruff as he watched her pick at a loose thread on her jacket. "She wouldn't want you to be miserable."

Ellie looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. "But what if...what if I could have saved her? If I had fought harder?"

Joel reached out, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "You did everything you could, sweetheart. You fought like a warrior." He paused, the memory of Y/n's desperate plea echoing in his mind. "She knew I had to choose you. She wouldn't have wanted me to lose you too."

Ellie looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I miss her, Joel. I miss her laughter, her stubbornness, the way she always knew how to make me smile even when I didn't want to."

Joel pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. "I know, Ellie. I miss her too." He closed his eyes, the weight of his guilt threatening to crush him. He had failed Y/n. He had let her down.

Days turned into weeks, and the weight of their grief began to settle over them like a shroud. Joel, haunted by the ghosts of his past, became increasingly withdrawn. He spent hours staring into the fire, lost in a sea of regret. Ellie, mirroring his silence, retreated into herself, her laughter replaced by a quiet sadness.

One evening, huddled around a crackling fire, Ellie finally broke the silence. "Do you ever think about what she would be doing now?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Joel looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"If she were still here," Ellie continued, "what would she be doing? Would she be laughing at my terrible jokes? Would she be teaching me how to play guitar? Would we be...happy?"

Joel looked into the fire, his mind racing. He imagined Y/n, her bright smile lighting up a room, her laughter echoing through the forest. He imagined them all together, a small, unlikely family, finding joy in the face of adversity.

"I think she would be proud of us," Joel said, his voice thick with emotion. "Proud of how far we've come."

Ellie looked at him, a flicker of hope returning to her eyes. "You think so?"

Joel nodded. "I know so. She always believed in us, Ellie. She believed in you."

Ellie smiled, a small, fragile thing. "Maybe she's watching over us now."

Joel looked up at the stars, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. "Maybe she is."

From that day on, the silence between them began to lift. They still mourned the loss of Y/n, but they also began to remember the joy she had brought into their lives. They shared stories about her, laughed at her quirky habits, and cherished the memories they had made together.

The scars of their past would never fully heal, but they learned to live with them. They learned to carry the weight of their grief without letting it consume them. And though the memory of Y/n would forever be a part of them, they also learned to find joy in the present, to appreciate the fragile beauty of life in a world ravaged by despair.

[arivsxq]

Meddle about chapter 3

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Theme: strangers to lovers, angsty shit

Warnings: smut, hookup, fwb, mdni, maybe slow updates

Word count: 4,6k+

Songs: Meddle about-Chase Atlantic

Heartbeat-Childish Gambino

A/N: Wrote a longer chapter this time as a little apology for the few people who waited so long. Sorry again but I try to upload more regularly this year:)

The next morning, I was running late. Again. I'd hit snooze one too many times, and now I was shoving books into my bag with a granola bar hanging from my mouth, cursing my existence. I barely had time to throw on a hoodie and sneakers before rushing out the door. It was the second day in a row where I looked like a homeless person. If my parents saw me like this they would definitely scream their guts out.

By the time I got to campus, I was already exhausted. The philosophy lecture hall was halfway across campus, and I knew if I stopped for coffee, I'd be even later. So, against my better judgment, I powered through, speed-walking like my life depended on it.

And that's when it happened.

One second, I was focused on not tripping over my own feet. The next, I slammed right into someone, sending both of us stumbling back.

"Oh, shit—"

I barely had time to process before strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me before I could fall flat on my ass.

And of course. Of course.

It was Jungkook.

Because why wouldn't it be?

He looked down at me, eyebrows raised in amusement. "You good?"

I blinked up at him, momentarily thrown off by how close we were. His hoodie was slightly oversized, sleeves covering part of his hands, and his dark hair was tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed. The morning light caught on the two piercings on the corner of his lips, and—

Nope. Absolutely not.

I stepped back quickly, clearing my throat. "Yeah. Fine. Totally great."

He gave me a look, like he didn't quite believe me, but he didn't push it. Instead, he smirked. "Running late?"

I huffed, adjusting my bag. "What gave it away?"

"The fact that you almost knocked me and yourself unconscious."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. You barely moved."

"Strong reflexes." He grinned. "Perks of being me."

I hated that I almost laughed.

Instead, I shook my head, moving past him. "I gotta go."

"Wait."

I paused, reluctantly turning back. "What?"

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning my face like he was debating something. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable yesterday," he said finally.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?" I said again.

"The coffee thing." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I wasn't trying to push anything. Just... wanted to talk."

Guilt twisted in my stomach. I let out a slow breath, suddenly feeling very aware of how awkward I'd made everything.

"I know," I admitted. "I just had..." I hesitated. "two cups of coffee"

Jungkook studied me for a second before nodding. "Okay."

That was it. Just okay. No guilt-tripping, no passive-aggressive remarks. Just acceptance. It threw me off more than anything else. Before I could say something else—what, I didn't even know—Jungkook took a step back. "I'll see you in class," he said, and then he walked away, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

"wait-"

He turns around with a questioning look on his face.

"What about later? I-I mean... after the lectures. Only if you have time, we don't need to-"

"yeah, sure" he smiles and disappears after.

Did I just stutter???

***

By the time I slipped into my seat next to Carla, the professor had already started scribbling something on the board. I tried to act casual like I hadn't just made an absolute fool of myself five minutes ago, but Carla's sharp gaze immediately landed on me.

"You're late," she whispered, leaning in.

"Tell me something I don't know," I muttered, pulling out my iPad.

Carla ignored my bad mood, her eyes narrowing. "Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?"

I hesitated for half a second too long, and that was all she needed.

"Oh my god," she gasped, her voice a little too loud. "Is this about Jungkook?"

My entire body stiffened. "No," I lied instantly.

Carla's smirk grew. "So if I turn around right now, he's not gonna be looking at you?"

I refused to take the bait. "I don't care what he's doing."

Carla, being the absolute menace she was, twisted in her seat anyway. I heard her inhale sharply. "Oh. My. God."

I sighed. "Carla—"

"He's staring at you."

I groaned, dropping my forehead onto the desk. "I hate you."

Carla giggled. "Oh, babe, you love me."

I peeked up at her, only to find her grinning like she'd just won the lottery. I knew that look. It meant trouble.

"What did you do?" I whispered harshly.

"Nothing," she said, way too innocently. "I just think it's interesting that you rejected coffee yesterday but suddenly have plans after class today."

I glared at her. "How do you even know that?"

Carla rolled her eyes. "Please. I saw your face when you walked in. You look like someone who just did something completely out of character."

She wasn't wrong.

"Annnnddd I overheard Jungkook telling Namjoon"

I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that Carla would never let this go. "Fine. I might have... invited him to hang out."

Carla's jaw dropped. "You invited him? As in, willingly?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" I hissed, glancing around.

Carla's expression turned gleeful. "This is huge."

"It's really not."

"It is." She paused, then gasped. "Oh my god, do you like him?"

I choked. "Absolutely not."

Carla narrowed her eyes. "Liar."

"I literally just met him."

Carla smirked. "And yet, here we are."

I wanted to argue, but the professor shot us a pointed look, forcing Carla to finally shut up. I exhaled in relief and focused on the lecture, but my brain refused to cooperate. I was too aware of the fact that Jungkook was sitting just a few rows away.

And worse? I could feel him looking at me.

***

After class, I practically sprinted out of the lecture hall before Carla could interrogate me further. I had a break before my next class, and Jungkook was nowhere in sight. Maybe he'd forgotten about my invitation. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe—

"Hey."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Spinning around, I found Jungkook standing there, looking amused.

"Jesus," I muttered, clutching my chest. "You need to stop sneaking up on me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I literally just walked up."

I huffed. "Whatever."

Jungkook chuckled, then nodded toward the campus café. "Still down?"

I hesitated. "For what?"

His lips twitched. "To hang out? You did invite me, remember?"

I internally cringed. "Right. Yeah. Sure."

Jungkook gave me an amused glance but didn't push it. We made our way to the café in comfortable silence, and I tried not to overthink the fact that I was willingly spending time with him.

Inside, we grabbed drinks, him, an iced Americano; me, a caramel latte, and found a spot near the window. I wrapped my hands around my cup, suddenly unsure what to say.

Jungkook beat me to it. "So, what's your deal?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

He smirked. "You seem... hard to read."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "You act like you don't care, but I don't think that's true."

I stared at him. "That's a bold assumption."

Jungkook sipped his coffee, unfazed. "Am I wrong?"

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. Annoyingly, he wasn't. I did care. I just hated admitting it.

Instead, I deflected. "And what about you? What's your deal?"

Jungkook tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

I gestured vaguely. "You just randomly show up at my friends' dinner, stare at me in class, and now you're analyzing my personality like it's a project."

He smirked. "So you did notice me staring."

I groaned "I walked into that one."

Jungkook laughed, a soft, genuine sound that caught me off guard. When I looked up, he was watching me, his expression more serious than before.

"For real, though," he said, voice quieter. "I think you're interesting."

I swallowed. "You don't even know me."

"Not yet," he said simply.

I didn't have a response to that.

Jungkook didn't press me for one. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee like he had all the time in the world. I stared out the window, watching students hurry past, my thoughts a tangled mess.

"I think we would make great friends" he interrupts the silence.

I blinked at him, unsure if I had misheard. "Friends?"

Jungkook nodded, completely unfazed. "Yeah. You know, the normal kind. People who hang out, talk, maybe send each other stupid memes at 2 AM. Friends."

I squinted at him. "Do you usually pursue friendships with people who actively avoid you?"

He chuckled. "You haven't exactly been avoiding me."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he had a point. I could have ignored him and shut down every attempt he made to talk to me, but instead, here I was, sitting across from him, sharing coffee.

I sighed, stirring my drink absentmindedly. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

"I prefer determined," he said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. Friends."

Jungkook raised his cup like he was toasting. "Friends."

We fell into an easy conversation after that. Turns out, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. He told me about his photography projects, his love for late-night drives, and his weirdly specific obsession with collecting vintage film cameras. In return, I told him about my art major, my stress over exams, and my terrible habit of procrastinating until the last possible second.

"So basically," Jungkook said, resting his chin on his palm, "we're both disasters in different ways."

I snorted. "Yeah, pretty much."

The time passed quicker than I expected. Before I knew it, my break was almost over, and I had to get to my next class. I glanced at the time and groaned. "I gotta go."

Jungkook stretched, standing up. "I'll walk with you."

I hesitated for a second but didn't protest. We stepped out of the café, the campus buzzing with students rushing to their next classes. The air was crisp, the sun casting long shadows across the pavement.

As we walked, Jungkook glanced at me. "So, do I get a contact name in your phone now? Or am I still 'Unknown Number'?"

I huffed a laugh, pulling out my phone. "Fine. But if you send me dumb memes at 2 AM, I'm blocking you."

Jungkook grinned, typing his number into my phone. "Noted."

I saved his contact, glancing at him. "Happy now?"

He grinned wider. "Very."

As we reached the building where my class was, I turned to him. "Guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah," he said, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. "Later."

I walked into the lecture hall, feeling oddly lighter than I had in days. Maybe having Jungkook around wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

***

Who would've thought that four months later, Jungkook would be one of my closest friends? But here we were, sitting in his living room. My legs were stretched out over his, tangled in the most casual way, like we'd been doing this forever. His feet rested on the other end of the L-shaped couch, his laptop perched on his thighs as he absentmindedly scrolled through something.

The room was dimly lit, the only real light coming from the TV, playing some random movie neither of us were paying attention to. A forgotten bag of chips sat between us, and my half-empty iced coffee was precariously balanced on the armrest.

Jungkook suddenly let out a dramatic sigh, closing his laptop with a soft thud. "I'm so over this assignment."

Not even looking up from my phone I respond "You say that about every assignment."

"Because they all suck," he shot back, tossing his laptop onto the floor beside him. "Seriously, who thought writing an essay about 'the emotional depth of visual storytelling' was a good idea?"

"Uh, your professor?"

He gave me a flat look. "I refuse to acknowledge that man's existence."

I laughed, nudging his leg with my foot. "You just need a break. Wanna order food?"

Jungkook perked up instantly. "Now you're speaking my language."

"Pizza?"

"Obviously."

I reached for my phone to make a call but then I see a message from my father.

Father:"Were invited to dinner by the Kim's."

I roll my eyes. My thoughts get interrupted by Jungkook's voice calling me.

"What's with the eye-role?" he tries to tease.

"Just my father. We're invited for dinner by the Kim's" if my annoyed face doesn't tell what I think about the plans my voice definitely does.

"Which Kim's exactly?" Jungkook hesitates.

"Your smart ass friend Namjoon?"

"Oh these Kim's"

Jungkook smirked, leaning back into the couch. "So, what's the problem? Namjoon's cool."

I groaned, throwing my phone onto the coffee table. "Yeah, but his parents are the problem. And also mine but that's not the point. They're like... I don't know, fancy? Pretentious? The kind of people who judge you based on how well you hold a wine glass."

Jungkook chuckled. "So like your family"

"True but shut up"

He shrugged. "I mean, I could come as your emotional support."

I snorted. "Oh, sure. I'd love to see my father's face when I show up with you. That'd go over well."

"Hey, I can be classy." He sat up straighter, clearing his throat before saying in an exaggerated deep voice, "Good evening, Mr. Kim. A pleasure to see you again. The duck confit is simply exquisite."

I burst out laughing. "Oh my God, stop."

Jungkook grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "I'd fit right in."

"Yeah, until you start talking about video games or making fun of Namjoon's philosophy books."

"Fine, fine. But really, is it that bad?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "It's just... my dad has this weird thing about the Kim's. Mr. Kim and dad have a long history of business dealings and stuff. Like, they're this perfect family in his eyes, and I always feel like I have to act a certain way around them. You know, be 'proper' and 'respectable' or whatever. It's exhausting."

Jungkook nodded, his playful expression softening a little. "I get that. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, Namjoon's probably suffering through it too."

"He is" I sighed. "I know him since I was 6. This guy doesn't have a great poker face"

"You got this," Jungkook said, bumping his knee against mine. "And if it gets unbearable, just imagine them all in clown wigs. Helps me get through awkward situations."

"That explains a lot"

"Hey"

The rest of the evening passed in comfortable laziness. We ordered pizza, half-watched a movie, and talked about everything and nothing until it was late and I had to drag myself off the couch.

***

The moment I stepped into my walk-in closet at my parent's house, I knew I couldn't just throw on any outfit. My parents took these dinners seriously, and showing up in anything less than polished perfection was practically a crime in their eyes. So, instead of my usual laid-back style, I went for a sleek black dress, nothing too extravagant, but just enough to say, yes, I belong in this ridiculous world of power plays and social niceties. A pair of delicate diamond earrings and designer heels completed the look.

By the time I made it downstairs, my mother gave me an approving glance, my father barely looked up from his watch, and we were ushered into the car.

When we arrived at the Kim estate, a sprawling mansion that made even our home seem modest, I sighed inwardly. The moment we stepped through the grand entrance, Namjoon and his parents greeted us with the usual warmth laced with underlying expectations. My mother was already deep in conversation with Mrs. Kim about some charity gala, while my father and Mr. Kim exchanged firm handshakes and business talk.

And then, just as I was about to zone out, my phone buzzed in my clutch.

Jungkook: "How's the royal banquet?"

I bit back a smile and texted back.

Me: "Currently contemplating my existence between a five-course meal and a conversation about hedge funds."

Jungkook: "Sounds thrilling. You need a rescue?"

Me: "Always"

Jungkook: "I'll send a helicopter"

I rolled my eyes but felt strangely lighter. If nothing else, at least I had Jungkook's sarcasm to get me through the night. The dining room was an opulent display of wealth, all crystal chandeliers, gold-trimmed dinnerware, and a floral centerpiece so large it practically needed its own zip code. I took my designated seat between my mother and Namjoon, the latter offering a polite smile as I settled in. Across from me, his younger sister, Jihye, was already scrolling through her phone beneath the table, clearly just as thrilled to be here as I was.

"So," Mr. Kim started, his deep voice carrying over the soft clinking of silverware, "I hear the expansion in Singapore is progressing well."

My father nodded, always the composed businessman. "Yes, though we had to make some last-minute adjustments to accommodate new regulations. Nothing we can't handle."

I tuned out almost instantly. Business talk at these dinners was as predictable as the perfectly plated gourmet meals in front of us. The first course, a delicate amuse-bouche that looked more like art than food, was placed before me, and I forced myself to take a bite, despite my complete lack of appetite.

I stole a glance at Namjoon, who seemed equally unenthusiastic. Despite his reputation for being a genius, he was, at the core, still just a guy who had been shoved into this world whether he liked it or not.

"How's university treating you?" he asked, voice low enough that it didn't interrupt the ongoing corporate negotiations happening to our left.

"Oh, you know," I sighed, "thriving under capitalism, questioning my existence, the usual."

Namjoon chuckled. "Sounds about right. Jungkook keeping you entertained?"

I nearly choked on my water. I cleared my throat, trying to play it cool. "Why would you assume that?"

Namjoon arched a knowing brow. "Because he's Jungkook. And you're... you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Care to elaborate?"

Before he could, Mrs. Kim turned her attention toward me, her carefully poised smile in place. "Darling, your mother was telling me about your latest art project. How wonderful that you still find time for such creative pursuits."

My lips twitched. "Yes, still clinging to the last remnants of my soul."

My mother shot me a warning look, but Mrs. Kim merely laughed, as if I had said something utterly charming rather than laced with sarcasm.

"Well, creativity is important," she said smoothly, sipping her wine. "Though, of course, I'm sure you're also considering more... practical applications for the future."

There it was. The inevitable nudge toward "real-world" aspirations, the ones that involved boardrooms, mergers, and an existence carefully molded into the expectations of high society.

I didn't get the chance to respond before my phone buzzed in my lap again.

"Uh yeah but I actually want to presume art"

My mother lets out a fake laugh and says "Young people and their imagination. Of course, she has other plans for the future. After all, she is the heir of a million dollar company"

Bitch.

She shoots me one last look before I look at my phone.

Jungkook: "Tell me you've at least been served something edible."

Me: "If by edible, you mean a piece of asparagus decorated like a museum exhibit, then yes."

Jungkook: "Tragic. Need me to smuggle in a burger?"

Me: "Tempting. You'd get past security?"

Jungkook: "For you? I'd find a way."

A warmth spread through my chest, but before I could type a response, my mother's voice cut through my thoughts. "Darling, put your phone away. It's rude during dinner."

I bit back a sigh, slipping my phone back into my clutch and returning to my untouched plate. Across from me, Jihye smirked knowingly, clearly having caught on.

The second course arrived,some kind of seafood dish with a name too long to remember, and the conversation steered toward future prospects. Mr. Kim, ever the strategist, turned to Namjoon with a measured look.

"Have you given more thought to your role in the company after graduation?"

Namjoon's smile was tight. "Of course. Still weighing my options."

"Options?" Mr. Kim repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Your path has always been clear."

I didn't miss the way Namjoon's grip tightened around his fork. I felt a sudden, sharp pang of sympathy. The weight of expectation in a family like this wasn't just heavy, it was suffocating.

"I think Namjoon should have the space to explore his interests," I interjected, drawing attention back to me. "After all, wouldn't you rather have a CEO who actually enjoys his work?"

There was a beat of silence before Mrs. Kim gave a tight-lipped smile. "Of course, dear. But responsibility is a privilege, not a choice."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Right. How could I forget?"

"Y/N!" My father warns me but I could care less.

As the courses continued, so did the thinly veiled expectations, the strategic questions, the careful way my mother kept nudging me to say the right things, to act the part.

By the time dessert arrived, I was more than ready to escape.

Another buzz.

Jungkook: "Still alive?"

Me: "Barely. Might fake an emergency. Thoughts?"

Jungkook: "Dramatic fainting. Classic. I'll give you a 9/10 if you commit to it."

I stifled a laugh, but Namjoon caught it, shaking his head in amusement. "Tell Jungkook he's a bad influence."

"Oh, he already knows."

As coffee was served, my mother turned to me with a pointed look. "We'll be attending the charity gala next weekend. You'll be expected to join...and your manners too."

I sighed internally but nodded. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it."

She smiled, satisfied, and returned to her conversation.

Jungkook: "What are your plans for next weekend?"

Me: "Apparently, I'm being paraded at a gala."

Jungkook: "Sounds fancy."

Me: "Sounds exhausting."

Jungkook: "I could always crash it."

I hesitated for a split second.

Me: "You wouldn't."

Jungkook: "Oh, baby. Don't challenge me."

I stared at the message, something dangerously close to excitement bubbling under my ribs.

Jungkook at a high-society gala? Now that would be a sight to see. As the evening dragged on, my patience wore thin. Just as I thought I might actually lose my mind listening to another story about market trends, Mr. Kim turned to me.

"Have you given any thought to internships? I know your father has some excellent connections. It would be a wonderful opportunity."

I hesitated. "I have some ideas, but nothing concrete yet."

My father, who had been mostly silent on my personal matters, decided now was the time to weigh in. "She needs to start focusing on more stable prospects. The art thing is fine as a hobby, but—"

There it was. The inevitable dismissal of my interests, as if they were just a passing phase. I clenched my jaw, forcing a polite nod instead of the biting retort I wanted to unleash.

Before I could say anything, Namjoon smoothly interjected, "Actually, Jungkook was telling me about an artist he's been following lately. Some really impressive work."

I shot him a look of gratitude. Namjoon, ever the diplomat, had just steered the conversation away from my impending existential crisis.

Mr. Kim hummed in approval. "Ah, Jungkook. Always an interesting one."

My mother's lips pursed ever so slightly. She wasn't the biggest fan of Jungkook, something about him being too carefree, too unpredictable. The irony, considering how much they admired Namjoon, who happened to be one of Jungkook's closest friends.

As the night wore on, I found myself feeling less suffocated, despite the setting. Maybe it was Namjoon's subtle interventions, or maybe it was knowing that, on the other side of my phone screen, Jungkook was keeping me grounded in my own way.

By the time we finally left the Kim estate, I let out a breath of relief. The car ride home was silent, my parents satisfied with another successful evening of networking but also angry at my behavior.

As soon as I was back in my room, I collapsed onto my bed and checked my phone again.

Jungkook: "You made it out?"

Me: "Against all odds."

Jungkook: "Proud of you. Wanna celebrate your survival with a coffe at my place"

I hesitated for a moment, then smiled.

Me: "Fine. But only if you make breakfast too"

Jungkook: "Why? We can buy something on the campus"

Me:"okay see you in class"

Jungkook:"Ugh fine, I'll make breakfast. Anything for the Chanel princess"

I set my phone down, feeling a little lighter. Maybe these dinners would never be easy, but at least I had people who made them bearable.

***

The next morning, I woke up to the soft ping of my phone, signaling a message from Jungkook.

Jungkook: "I'm up. Suffering. Hope you're happy."

I grinned, stretching lazily before replying.

Me: "Very. Now get to work, chef."

Jungkook: "Bossy. I like it."

Shaking my head, I rolled out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes before heading to his apartment. I had barely knocked when the door swung open, revealing Jungkook in an oversized hoodie, his hair still messily tousled from sleep.

"Morning, Chanel Princess," he greeted, stepping aside to let me in.

"Morning, Michelin-star chef," I smirked, peering over his shoulder. "Where's my gourmet breakfast?"

Jungkook scoffed, leading me into the kitchen where a pan of slightly burnt pancakes sat on the stove. "Listen, I never promised quality."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're lucky I'm too hungry to care."

As I grabbed a plate, he leaned against the counter, watching me with an easy smile. "So, how bad was the aftermath?"

I sighed, stabbing at my pancake. "Silent treatment from my parents. My mother is convinced I'll grow out of my 'art phase' and my dad thinks I need a reality check."

Jungkook frowned. "And by reality check, they mean...?"

"Corporate servitude." I rolled my eyes. "Yay, nepotism."

He snorted. "Yeah, you don't really scream 'corporate drone' to me."

I pointed my fork at him. "Exactly! But try telling them that."

There was a beat of silence before Jungkook said, "You know, you don't actually have to do what they want."

I looked up, meeting his gaze. It was such a simple statement, yet it held so much weight.

"Yeah, well, try convincing them of that."

Jungkook shook his head. "No, I mean it. You're the one who has to live with your choices. Not them."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond. Because as much as I wanted to believe that, the pressure was real. The expectations, the responsibilities, the constant reminder that I had a role to play in this carefully curated world my parents had built.

Jungkook must've sensed my hesitation because he reached across the counter, lightly tapping my wrist. "Hey. You have options. You just have to be brave enough to take them."

I stared at him, something warm blooming in my chest. He always made things sound so simple, so possible.

Before I could overthink it, I sighed dramatically. "It's not that easy."

Jungkook grinned. "Oh come on. If your parents disown you, you can sleep on my couch"

I scoffed. "I think I've suffered enough for your amusement."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, you keep things interesting."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't fight the smile tugging at my lips. For now, the weight of last night felt a little lighter, and the future was a little less suffocating. At least I had people like Jungkook in my corner.

[suugarbabe]

mattheo riddle x reader

yap turned fic @musingsofahufflepuff <3

angsty, possibly another part will be added to it, who knows really.

Paired giggling across the common room had your eyes rolling for the umpteenth time. "Could they not do that somewhere else?" you tried to hide the venom in your voice, but Enzo could see right through it. "Careful, babes. Your green monster is showing its bits," he swats your hand away with a giggle as you go to hit him.

"I am not jealous," You crossed your arms with a scowl on your face. Enzo trapped his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his smile, "Yeah? Enlighten me then, what's so irritating about Mattheo and his new girlfriend."

You stared at Mattheo and the bimbo practically hanging on him. Didn't she have her own side of the couch she could occupy? you thought. You sat up straighter on the sofa, trying your best to configure a look that appeared more concerning than irritated. "He's just different when he's around her. Like someone I don't know."

Enzo's attention was peaked now, turning towards you to give you his full attention, "Oh pray tell, darling. Do give me more." You mirrored his position, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "It's almost like he's regressing mentally around her. Its...frustrating. When he's messing around with us he's goofy. He banters, makes jokes with us that are actually funny. With us he talks about things he actually likes, he even appears brighter overall."

"And with Katherine?" Enzo raised his eyes as you mimicked a gagging sound, "Enz, please. Not her name." He couldn't stifle his laugh this time, "So sorry. Ahem...and with her?"

You smiled at his correction, "With her it's like his brain is turned off and she's replaced it with sludge." Enzo's laugh was boisterous, earning the looks of everyone in the common room, including Mattheo and his new dumb doll.

Mattheo was staring right at you, his head tilting in curiosity before Katherine grabbed hold of his chin to face her again with a sickening grin. You shoved Enzo successfully this time, him toppling over and catching himself on the armrest of the sofa, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. S'not my fault you're funny, babes."

You rolled your eyes, "Did you see how she just redirected his attention like..like.." Enzo nodded slowly, "Like his...girlfriend?" You threw your hands up in the air as you slid slightly down the sofa, "Don't say it likes it's so permanent."

"Like what's so permanent?" In the midst of your complaining discussion, Mattheo and his new shadow had made their way over to the both of you with her interrupting your conversation. "Oh, funny you should ask, we were just talking about y- fucking merlin, that hurt!" your elbow dug itself harshly into Enzo's ribs before he could say anything to incriminating.

You put on a sacchariferous smile, "Oh nothing you have to worry that empty head of yours about, sweetheart." Katherine tilted her head like a confused dog; Mattheo's eyes turned dark, "Why are you being such cunt?"

Immediately you were on your feet, "A cunt? I'm being a cunt? Fucking Salazar's sake, Matty, she's really turned you in to a right git, huh." Mattheo scoffed, "I'm a git? Oh that's rich, babes. Truly."

Katherine pulled on Mattheo's sleeve, "C'mon 'Teo, just leave it." You couldn't contain your laughter, "Teo?! Merlin, your little Gryffindor's really sunk her claws in deep and it's only been a few weeks." Mattheo took a step toward you, causing Enzo to step in-between, "Please, do we really have to do this right now?"

A hand on Mattheo's chest, her hand, pushed him back as she turned to look at you, "Jealously is a really ugly look for you, you know." You wen't to push around Enzo, him wrapping an arm around your middle to stop you from moving towards them, "Hey, you're no oil painting yourself!"

Enzo gave you a slight push back down onto the sofa, holding his hand out in front of you until Mattheo and his girlfriend disappeared towards the common rooms. Once they were out of sight he turned to you, hands outstretched at his sides. "Ehm, you gonna tell me what the bloody hell that was?"

You huffed with a pout, "She started it." Enzo crossed his arms not unlike a stern older brother despite him being younger than you, "She did not start anything. Let's reflect, yes? What was it you said to her? Something about not worrying her empty head?"

You glanced up to meet his eyes shyly, "S'not my fault she's daft." Enzo snorted, "Daft or not, Mattheo seemed pissed." You groaned, turning to lay fully on the sofa and draping an arm over your eyes. "Do me a favor, will you Enz?"

A sigh was your only indication that he heard you so you continued, "Can you get my bedding from the dorm and bring it out here to me?" Enzo's brows knitted together, "You're going to sleep out here?" You nodded, "I know they went back there and I don't know which dorm they chose. I'd really rather not walk in on them. I will one hundred percent either say more mean things to her or possibly.."

"Punch the fuck out of Mattheo?" you could hear the smile in Enzo's voice as he finished your sentence. You peaked an eye out from under your arm and Enzo could see it glossing over. "Oh, babes.."

You covered your face once more, Enzo leaning down to place a kiss to the top of your head before you heard him walk towards the dorms. Once you heard the hall door close, you let the first tear fall.

[evilwriter37]

first, i'm really happy to hear about your insurance!! im wishing you alllll the best!🫶

second, im nervous about the state of the world right now, so i'm bringing a little distraction in the form of a rtte time-travel au i've been thinking of👀

so, i don't know from what point Hiccup would travel back in time, i'm doubting between the end of rtte or from httyd 2, but something goes BIG wrong and he dies, and then wakes up back in his body at the start of rtte. he doesn't understand what happened until the twins bust in with Johann between them, who tells him Dagur escaped—the gods have basically given him a second chance! (and for my own joy, Toothless traveled with him<3).

he makes his inventions early, upgrades the tail to the newer model, and plans out his steps with the knowledge of the future he has. he struggles with it at first, seeing Dagur like his old self again instead of the friend he became, knowing of the war that comes. but he's older now, and even if he doesn't want to think about it, Viggo did teach him a lot, and he's using that to his favor. first of all: he makes sure Dagur never finds out about the Dragon Eye. he hides it in his saddlebag before they come out of the Reaper. it's a big part of why the hunters and the riders fought, after all, it's better if everyone thinks it's still gone (im torn between Hiccup keeping it a secret from his friends too, for extra angst, or if he, because he's older, knows they work best as a team).

also, speaking of Viggo, Hiccup would 100% take the chance to rile Viggo up, to cut into his operations, stalking hunter ships before they even know he exists. but he wants to do it differently, this time. he knows that Viggo can be changed, so he needs to build this relation carefully. he frees dragons, of course, but he tries to keep damage to a minimum, and, for the kicker: he leaves the maces and talons "dragon" piece in the empty cells after raiding them. gotta make sure Viggo knows he plays!

anyway, yeah, i have a ton of ideas but i just wanted to share them and see what you think! (i just love time travel aus hihi)

Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool idea!!! Do Hiccup’s friends ever find out about this?

And omg, just… waking up in his younger body must be a shock. There are probably scars that he had that are no longer there! (That would be so angsty.)

This whole concept is so awesome! I love the idea of him taunting Viggo while also wanting to try to make peace with him.

Hiccup has so much more knowledge of the world now and how things turn out, that I wonder if he ever feels overwhelmed, like he has to fix everything that went wrong in his eyes.

Love this! Thank you for sending! And yes, the insurance approval is a huge fucking relief, oh my god. (Also anxious and scared about the world right now. We gotta hang onto each other.)

[awardenandacrow]

1 + 12 for Rook story time!

Oof these will be a little angsty but I love it. 1) the first time Rook killed someone; 12) Rook makes a friend.

Off the cuff again, but these ideas have been bouncing around a bit so hopefully they’ll be clear.

SNIPPET 34 *may not actually feature in fic*

[Rook escapes slavery with the help of the Hero of Ferelden, Saimaeria Mahariel, and the Shadow Dragons.] *story ask prompt 1* NOTE: Naimy was just-turned 16

——————————————————————————

Naimeryn awoke with a start to chaos. Screams echoed down the halls, accompanied by metal clanging on metal and explosions she could only assume were caused by magic. The other slaves were all already up, filing out into the servant’s hall. She scrambled out of bed to follow them.

“What’s happening?” She asked Merva, the elder, who was ushering everyone out ahead of her.

“What does it look like, fool girl? We’re escaping!”

“But how?” Naimeryn insisted, even as the older elf shoved her through the door last.

“Plans have been in the works in secret for over a year, and that is all you need to know! Stop asking questions and *run*!”

Naimeryn did as she was told, following the others through the winding halls and into the kitchen. As they burst in, they were met by the magister’s guards, fighting against forces with what looked to be a swooping dragon insignia on various parts of their clothing.

“Don’t let the elves escape!” Someone was yelling.

“This way! Get them out this way!”

Naimeryn spun to her left. Another of the mystery rescuers held a bulwark shield against the magister’s guards, the elves fleeing out the side door into the garden behind him.

“Help!” To her right, guards were dragging elves by hair and collar towards the dining room. They’d kill them rather than lose them.

Naimeryn bolted right.

Her heart pounded in her ears. What could one elven slave girl do against an unknown number of guards with hostages? She supposed she was going to find out.

She burst into the dining room. The magister floated high above the floor, tendrils of blood keeping him up there. Beneath him, guards held slaves, puppets in his spell, knives against arms and throats. That was the first time she saw her.

A tall, willowy elf, her auburn hair worn in twin braided buns at the nape of her neck stood facing the magister. She held a long, ornate sword in one hand and a bejeweled dagger in the other. She was the only one of the forces standing against the magister and his guards wearing Grey Warden blue and silver armor. Naimeryn didn’t know how she knew, but there was only one person she could be.

Saimaeria Mahariel, Warden-Commander. The Hero of Ferelden.

“Callistus Avantum,” she shouted up to him, unphased by his show of power, “you *will* answer for your crimes against the elven people!”

The magister sneered down at her and reared back, preparing to strike.

Something inside of Naimeryn broke. She felt her magic surging out of control, even as she ran forward. She dove in front of the Hero of Ferelden, throwing her hands up in the air.

Lightning flooded the dining room. She didn’t know how she’d done it, but the tempest struck magister and guard alike, completely missing the Hero and every slave in the room. When it stopped, the magister and his men lay crumpled on the floor, and the slaves stood, shaking, but alive.

Naimeryn thought she was going to be sick. She stumbled, hearing the magister’s children — a boy, ten, and a girl, seven — screaming for their father. She’d.. had she killed him? She stumbled forward a step, intending to check, but as she did the room spun violently, and she collapsed, blackness swallowing her whole.

——————————————————————————

SNIPPET 35 *may feature in fic as a flashback after Weisshaupt*

[Naimeryn survives the Joining, but her fellow new Wardens still aren’t sure she should be there. She sets out to prove herself.] NOTE: the events in this snippet were discussed in SNIPPET ONE: EARLY CONVERSATION WITH NEVE *story ask prompt 12* NOTE: Naimy was 20; also, there’s a fourth member of Naimy’s Joining “class” but I forgot the made-up name I gave him so he’s just…… gonna be Hamish now, and I’ll change it later if that’s wrong. Also I 100% made up the Antivan Adder on the spot don’t come for me 😬😬

——————————————————————————

“Hey,” Naimeryn said, hoping she didn’t sound as awkward as she felt. She sat down with enough space for another person between herself and Greta, whose face was obscured by her thick, brown hair. Amaya cocked a perfectly-manicured blonde eyebrow at her.

“What do you want?” She asked, not even bothering to disguise her contempt. Surviving the Joining together, then, had not changed things between them. That figured.

“Thought it was kind of obvious,” Naimeryn forced a smile. “Wanted someone to eat with.”

“And your first choice… was *us*?” Amaya barely suppressed a laugh.

“We just went through the Joining together,” Naimeryn picked up her fork, intent on eating with or without the pretty Tevinter mage’s approval. Or perhaps to spite her for not giving it. “Felt like a logical choice.”

“Just because you *somehow* didn’t die,” Amaya smiled her nastiest smile, “does not make us the same.”

“Amaya,” Greta said softly. “We’re *all* Wardens now. Just let her be.”

“You know, Amaya,” Naimeryn said, appreciative of Greta’s half-assed attempt at support, but equally exhausted and over Amaya’s shit, “I’m genuinely curious just what it is you find *so* objectionable about me. Is it *just* that I’m an elf? You think I should be bringing you tea and warming your bedsheets for you before you get in them?”

Amaya scoffed. “*You’re* the only one worried you don’t measure up because of your *race.* My problem is *purely* that you don’t measure up.”

Naimeryn was momentarily tongue-tied. While she grappled with what to say, Hamish slid into the seat next to Amaya.

“Check it out,” he grinned, pulling the neckline of his shirt down. Across his impressive pectoral muscle, he had a crisp, brand new tattoo. A Warden in full plate armor — which looked suspiciously like Hamish’s own armor — was slaying an archdemon, whose long tongue hung out of its mouth and curled around his nipple. It was beautiful work, incredibly detailed, and with soft gradient shading. Nothing like the quill-ink tattoos the other slaves would give one another.

“I can’t believe you went through with it!” Greta laughed. “Lil’ rich actually sat through it.”

“Who’re you calling ‘little?’” Hamish snapped, nostrils flaring.

“Where’d you get it done?” Naimeryn asked. The table went quiet again. Hamish looked her up and down, releasing his shirt collar as he sat up straighter.

“What’re you interested for, Naimeryn?” He wanted to know. “Thinking of getting some ink yourself?”

Amaya laughed out loud. “Please. That girl is too soft to sit through a tattoo.”

*Soft*? *That* was what Amaya thought of her?

“With all due respect, *Amaya*,” Naimeryn snapped, “which, at this point, is *none*, you don’t know anything about me.”

“I could say the same to you,” Amaya shot back. “You assume you know me because I’m from *Tevinter.* Everyone knows you were a slave to a Tevinter magister. You think we’re all the same, *don’t you*?”

Naimeryn bit her tongue. Amaya *was* like every other Tevinter mage she’d ever met. Holier-than-though. Self important. Cocky.

“Amaya…” Greta said nervously, but Amaya wasn’t finished.

“You want to prove me wrong? I’ll make a bet with you.”

Amaya slammed down her fork and leaned over the table towards Naimeryn.

“Hamish will get you the name of his artist. I bet you’re too scared to get a tattoo anyway. But I’ll accept I’m wrong about you — *if* you get a *snake.*”

“*Amaya!*” Greta hissed.

But Naimeryn had already taken the bait.

“Get me the name,” she said levelly.

…

Snakes actually made for beautiful tattoos, Naimeryn had realized as she’d flipped through the artist’s portfolio. They’d talked to her about the tattoo, and initially tried to talk her out of it. When she’d explained she wanted to make sure the other Wardens understood she wasn’t ashamed of where she came from, that having survived those years in that house were a source of pride, they’d said they had an idea.

An Antivan Adder: a small, but particularly deadly viper, whose venom was popular with the Antivan Crows for being fast acting and potent in small amounts. Small but mighty — it struck a chord in her.

When she walked into the mess hall the next morning, head held high, with the tiny serpent slithering down the center of her forehead from just beneath her hairline, Amaya spat her tea all across the table in front of her. Before Naimeryn could reach them, she was on her feet, closing the distance between them in rapid steps. She snatched Naimeryn’s tray from her startled hands, slamming it down on the nearest table and grabbing the elven mage by the elbow — not hard, but firm enough.

“Amaya, what —?” Naimeryn started as the other woman dragged her back into the hall.

“Are you *crazy*?” Amaya snapped at her. “I didn’t think you’d actually *do it*!”

“Well that was kind of the *point*, wasn’t it?” Naimeryn crossed her arms.

“*No*, I —“ Amaya suddenly looked like she might — cry? “Naimeryn, that was the meanest dare I’ve ever done. And now you have — you have *that* on you forever! Like a *brand.*”

She spat the last word. Naimeryn was confused.

“You’ve lost me,” Naimeryn shook her head. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t care what any of you think. But it *bothers* me that you seem to think I should be ashamed of my time spent as a slave. I’m *not.* I’m *damn proud* of everything I went through, of every scar on my back from their whips. I *survived* out of *spite*, because I’ll *never* let someone else decide if I *deserve* to *exist.*”

Naimeryn hadn’t realized her voice was rising, but she found herself shouting at Amaya, and hot tears stung her eyes. Dammit. That wasn’t going to help her cause.

“I got a snake that the Antivan Crows proze for its venom,” Naimeryn told her after sucking in a steadying breath. “It’s small. Unassuming. In the wild, apparently it gets underestimated a lot. But it’s deadly. That’s who I was as a slave. Small, forgettable. But *I* killed the magister who enslaved us. *I* did that. Not you, and not anybody else can take that from me. And this? This isn’t a brand. It’s a badge of *honor.*”

Amaya’s blue eyes were bloodshot with the tears she kept swallowing down.

“Do you even know why I’m *here*?” Amaya asked her quietly. Naimeryn swallowed thickly. It had never occurred to her to ask. She shook her head slowly.

“My family sent me here. To die now, or later. Doesn’t matter. I was feeding the Shadow Dragons information. Floorplans, names.”

Naimeryn’s heart stuttered to a stop in her chest. “You were freeing slaves… so they sent you to the Wardens.”

Amaya smiled wryly. “This was, they can still talk about their ‘courageous little girl.’ No one has to know what I did — what I was trying to do. They can save face.”

“I—“ Naimeryn didn’t know what to say.

“Please don’t apologize to me,” Amaya said, suddenly gentle. “Like you, I’m not ashamed of the path that lead me here.”

With a tentative smirk, she added, “maybe not *so* proud that I’d tattoo my *face*, though.”

In spite of herself, Naimeryn laughed. Amaya allowed herself a small chuckle, too.

“You really do like that tattoo?” Amaya asked her.

“I do,” Naimeryn nodded. “Plus, I mean, I’ve got the space for it.”

Amaya’s laugh was a little uncomfortable, but it was still a laugh. Naimeryn and Amaya, *laughing* together. She’d have lost the shirt off of her back losing that bet.

“Can we… start over?” Naimeryn asked tentatively.

“Friends?” Amaya tilted her head. “I’d… really like that.

AND THEN ‼️SPOILER‼️ AMAYA DIES AT WEISSHAUPT BECAUSE I’M THE WORST!

Idk lemme know in the comments should I change my mind?

Amaya was inspired in the Hossberg Wetlands when Warden Greta tells Warden Rook that she “Joined about the same time as Rook.” So I latched on to Greta and have a whole headcannon there, too, which is why initially Amaya was a throwaway character to just deepen Naimy’s backstory a bit. But… I’m starting to really like her 😅😅

I hope y’all enjoyed these 🥰 I’m having ✨fun✨

[vampire-matcha]

Everyone always talks about John "share my wife" Price but what about Kyle "our girlfriend" Garrick???

18+

It starts with you and him on the couch together. You've got your hand in his pants and he's got his tongue down your throat. You're pumping his cock while he pants into your mouth when his phone rings- someone is video calling him. You glance at his phone sitting beside him, discarded on the couch cushion when you first crawled over to him to kiss his neck. The icon on the screen is a familiar one: a mischievous grin with a mohawk on top.

"Answer it," you say as you slide down the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

"What?" He asks, his eyes wide as saucers as you hand him the phone.

"Answer it," you say again with a devilish grin, still stroking him slowly. With a shaky breath to school his expression, he answers it.

Gaz tries his best to stay nonchalant, not even listening to Soap's chatter through the phone, but you have other plans. Gaz let's out a surprised grunt and jerks when you take his cockhead into your mouth.

"You alright mate?" Soap asks after a momentary pause.

"Yeah-yeah," Gaz answers too quickly. "Muscle spasm. Got a- ah- knot in my shoulder." You can't help but smile around his dick as you bob your head up and down his shaft. He glances down at you with a frustrated huff. Soap makes a noise on the phone.

"That's rough, mate. You should ask your girl to help you rub it out." You nearly choke at the unintended double entendre. "Where is she anyway? Wanna say hi."

"Uh... she's-" whatever half-baked excuse Gaz was about to spout off is cut off by the sudden sucking noise your lips made on "accident". Gaz freezes, looking past the phone at you, and Soap is silent on the other line. You continue to swirl your tongue around Gaz's tip.

"...Gaz?" Soap asks slowly. Gaz doesn't answer, his chest heaving in an effort to maintain his composure. "What's going on?" Gaz's eyes darted back and forth between you and the phone, silently willing you to stop so he wont get caught. Instead, you make yourself gag on his length, causing him to grunt involuntarily.

"Holy shite, Gaz... are you...?" Soap sounds suddenly breathless at the sounds he hears on his phone. They aren't unfamiliar to him, but usually they're accompanied by a little orange logo, not by his best mate on FaceTime. "Turn the camera around."

Gaz's jaw drops with a pant. Oh, he's so caught. He stares down at you, and you nod your head before sucking hard. With a shaky hand, he taps the screen, and you hear Soap groan over the speaker. You suck off Gaz's tip with a wet pop and smile.

"Hi Soap," you say conversationally, as if Gaz's cock wasn't there right in your face, as if you didn't have drool and precum dripping down your chin. You stare up into the camera phone as you stick your tongue out and lick up and down the shaft.

"Steamin' Jesus," Soap says, and there's a rustling over the speaker. "Garrick, you dog," he growls. You put on a show for him, pumping Gaz in your hand while you mouth at his balls, making him moan out loud. He's already been caught, no use hiding it anymore.

Soap gets himself off to it. You can hear his groans of pleasure over the phone mixing with Gaz's, can hear the wet sounds of him stroking himself. When you finally get Gaz to cum on your face, you smile at the pleasured moan Soap let's out. Gaz smears his cum over your lips with his thumb and with a smirk he says,

"What are you doing tonight, Tav?"

"I'll be over in an hour," Soap replies.

The three of you go at it for hours, round after round, multiple positions, every combination. And while you were the center of their attention for most of it, it was also incredible hot to watch them together, making out above you, jerking each other's cocks. By the end of the night, when everyone's needs had been met and you all were exhausted, you all agree it was the best sex of any of your lives. And you all three agree: there's no going back after this.

Soap comes over more and more often for threesomes, but a couple times it was just you and him, or him and Gaz. The three of you find a rhythm and balance together, happy and very well satisfied.

Gaz is out of the country when Ghost finds out. And. He. Is. Livid.

He'd borrowed Soap's phone for something, he doesn't remember what he needed, because once he saw the video of you and Soap on his phone he swears he saw red.

Soap had never seen his LT so angry, especially not toward him. Ghost has him backed into the wall, face in his face, barking at him like a mad dog.

"Have you gone fucking mad? You've got a lot of fucking nerve, Sergeant! Showin' your face to Gaz while you're giving him the runaround! Fucking his girl behind his back! You should be ashamed! He's our teammate, he's our BROTHER!" And in a blind panic, Soap shouts out:

"He knows!" It's enough to make Ghost pause his tirade for a moment, giving the shorter man an incredulous look.

"Bullshit."

"He does! He knows, I can prove it!" Soap pleads, and slowly holds out his hand. Ghost pins him with a glare but hands him the phone anyway.

Soap opens up the group chat the three of you share and turns the phone to show to Ghost. There's a variety of messages, some casual, some flirtatious, but what really catches Ghost's eye are the videos.

The first is the one that sent him into a fit in the first place: you're bent over in front of a mirror while Soap rams into you from behind. The video is sent with a message reading "taking care of our girl while you're gone x" The next video is sent from your POV as you bounce on Gaz’s cock. Then a video sent from Gaz's number that seems to be in the barracks shower of all places, the phone propped up somehow capturing the two Sergeants wet and naked. Gaz steps back from the camera and embraces Soap with a heated kiss. They each wrap a hand around both their cocks together and jerk themselves off to a simultaneous finish.

As Ghost scrolls through the chat, Soap, still pinned to the wall, takes notice of the way Ghost's breathing steadily gets heavier and heavier. And he DEFINITELY notices the growing weight pressed against his stomach. He gives an experimental grind of his hips. Ghost's eyes snap back up to him. They're still full of fire, but for a completely different reason.

"You got me stuck between a rock and a hard place, here, LT." He jokes with a gravelly voice. "But you know what they say... the more the merrier." In a matter of minutes, Ghost had Soap turned around, and both their pants are down by their ankles.

Gaz gets a new message in the chat later that night. The video starts focused on your face, your mouth deepthroating Soap and your eyes rolled back in your head as your body gets jostled roughly by... someone else. The camera pans down your body, showing you on your hands and knees, and a thick, wide body fucking into you from behind. A familiar tattoo sleeve catches Gaz's eye, and finally the camera pans up to show that infamous skull mask that he knows so well. The video is captioned: "found a new playmate for us... don't tell the captain ;)"

The captain, of course, does find out sooner rather than later. The team is gathered at you and Gaz’s home to watch a football game. Most of the sports terminology goes over your head, but you're glad to have all your boys together... plus their captain.

You think you're being subtle about everything, but Price notices. His job is noticing things. Countless life-or-death situations have counted on Price noticing little things. So of course he notices your heated glances at Soap, the way you leave lingering touches on Ghost when you pass by him. You, nestled into your boyfriend's side with his arm around you while you make eyes at his teammates. It makes his blood boil.

He confronts you in the kitchen. You got up to fetch yourself a drink and he waits a moment before he follows you in. You turn around from the fridge to see him standing behind you. His face is impassive and unreadable. You linger there a moment in confusion. He's usually so friendly toward you. Finally he breaks the silence first.

"You know, Kyle really cares about you. Talks about you all the time, talks about how much he loves you. You've got that poor boy wrapped around your little finger, you know that?"

"Th-thank you...?" You stutter, completely caught off-guard. The cold tone of his voice doesn't match his kind words. There's an edge to it, a dangerous one. He shakes his head at you.

"He doesn't deserve this. He's a good man."

"Doesn't deserve what?" You ask, glancing down at the extra beer in your hand that you'd gotten for Gaz. He doesn't deserve beer?

"You think I don't know what's going on?" He accuses with a step forward. "You think I don't see it?"

"See what?" You ask, growing more and more worried with every passing second. Price scoffs.

"You know, I've seen this a lot. Men in the service go out and risk their lives, all the while back home their girl is running circles around them." He huffs, giving you a look you'd never seen before. It makes you feel... gross. "Thought you were different, though. Thought you could be trusted. And to do it with his teammates?" His eyes narrow and his nose wrinkles in disgust. You gasp in realization. He thinks you're cheating!

"John, you don't understand-"

"You think I'm stupid?"

"No!"

"What's going on?" Gaz asks from the doorway. He was wondering what was taking you both so long, but he didn't expect to find you close to tears cornered by his captain. Price turns his body toward him, but keeps his eyes on you.

"Do you want to tell him, or should I?" He asks. You open and close your mouth but nothing comes out. Your brain is overworking trying to figure out an answer. You can't tell him the truth, you'd get your boys in trouble! Should you just admit to it? Take the blame to protect them? Before you can come up with the words, Soap and Ghost enter the room behind Gaz. Price turns his attention to them, and you breathe out in relief to have his glare off you.

"Or maybe you two would like to tell him?" He proposes, voice slightly raised. The tension in the room is suffocating. Price stares the other two down as Gaz looks from one person to the other, putting the pieces together.

"Price it's not what you think," he says with his hands out in a placating gesture. Price tilts his head.

"Kyle, I'm sorry to have to tell you-"

"They're not going round my back, Price. I know." Price shuffles his feet a bit.

"You... know?"

"The four of us have... an arrangement." Gaz walks over to you and wraps an arm around you. "She's done nothing wrong, don't be cross with her. Neither have Ghost or Soap. She's not just my girlfriend, she's our girlfriend." Gaz holds Price's eyes.

"And the four of you are..."

"Together. Is that a problem, Captain?" Price quirks an eyebrow at his sergeant's challenge, but after a moment shakes his head.

"No. No, not a problem. Just keep it tactical on the field. Copy?"

"Yes sir." Price turns to Soap and Ghost.

"Copy?"

"Yes sir," they answer in unison. Price looks at you again and his expression softens, dropping his Captain persona for your sake.

"I owe you an apology," he starts.

"It's alright," you interrupt, giving him a shy smile. "You were just looking out for Kyle."

"You should've seen Ghost when he found out. Nearly bit my head off," Soap says, lightening the mood. But Price's eyes still linger.

"Game's still on," Ghost says, "if you all are done being dramatic." The five of you file back into the living room to finish out the game with you still nestled into Gaz's side, this time openly joined by Soap on your other side. Throughout the game, as the men banter about whose team is better, Price kept glancing over at you.

The game ends and as everybody winds down, Price watches the affection you gave the other three.

"I have to wonder, though," he starts, "what it is that's got all three of my men so wrapped up in you..." Your eyes dart from one man to the other as each of them catch onto Price's meaning.

"Well... it'd be a shame not to include that captain, right boys?" Gaz teases.

"The more the merrier-"

"Shut up MacTavish, fucks sake," Ghost huffs, still with a smirk.

"I still owe you a proper apology, sweetheart," Price says, beckoning you to sit on his lap.

And apologize, he does, in the form of his face between your thighs, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. Eventually, the five of you wind up in the bedroom, tasting and teasing and fucking one another.

"We're going to need a bigger bed..."

[s0fter-sin]

i need ghoap frantically making out against a door finally taking the leap on their feelings. need ghost grinding against soap, expecting to find him just as hard as him, only to feel nothing

and in all his wisdom and experience, he concludes soap was tortured and never told him

he’s trying to think of a delicate way to say he understands, that he’s been through it and it doesn’t change anything about how he feels (and who the fuck touched him so he can hunt them down and rend them limb from limb)

meanwhile trans!soap’s just trying to find the best angle to grind his cunt on ghost’s thigh

just it never even entering ghost’s head bc he’s never known a trans person but he has met plenty of people who’ve been tortured - himself included - so of course that’s his logical leap

soap takes off his shirt and he sees his top surgery scars and ghost asks if he wants him to kill the one who did it and soap just hums like, “actually, man did pretty good, they healed real well,” and ghost’s just teary-eyes with awe at how well he’s coping, “looking on the bright side, that’s my johnny.”

imagine he thinks johnny was fully castrated but sees he’s determined to still have a sex life with him so he buys packers and straps to help him bc hell yeah healing and soap’s just like, “holy shit i’ve never had such a thoughtful partner before, such a sweet man, lt.”

[sysig]

for requestober ! my heart's been aching for yanderapy for a while and i would like to get something about them :3 i don't have a specific prompt . i do like to see them more on the angsty-unhealthy-relationship side lol like some of the requests you made last year . overall , just seeing anything about them would be nice . X3

Day 1 - Sodium Chloride Couple