#again. showing loyalty in such different ways

[bugismymiddlename]

In June, my posts were filled with hostility and I never deleted it because I didn't think about it. I was stressfully trying to get my point across. Sorry about that, words are not my best friends (and grammar isn't either, apparently)

You for sure have psychologists but I'm gonna tell you that a person with your same degree in psychology still is bound to have different opinions. The reason I support Mileven the most with this is because they are without a doubt supported by the narrative and the events way more than Byler. It's pretty important to realize that (in my opinion) Byler was definitely most likely built off of fans' idea of it. Byler wasn't built-up since season 1, the Duffers had only thought about making their friendship as close as it is now in season 2, but proceeded to show their close bond as friends, and it didn't necessarily stop them from building up Mileven because that's their main ship and they proceeded to keep it that way for the next 7 years. Using psychology for something that is an idea instead of a writer's actual intent can lead to almost futile resaults because that's all it is - an idea. Sometimes this works because this idea actually has stable support.

But most likely it won't because Byler isn't narratively supported than people like to think it is. It's important to differentiate a very close friendship between boys and actual gay partners. Will is not the only one in love with Mike, and we need to remember that. Eleven is still here, and by my knowledge, she isn't going anywhere any time soon. If you use psychology in a way that IS supported by the narrative, there are greater chances that it can give us information. And were ARE given information.

- Mike's PTSD (which makes him more hesitant to say "I love you" because he doesn't wanna lose her again)

- Eleven's PTSD (dumping down her past to back of her mind constantly, leading for her to forget about them but it still affects her)

And we know this because there are multiple people coming out to this and saying that this is exactly what many, many people go through, that's what makes Mike and Eleven feel realistic. Empirical research is needed. And that's true for Mileven because that includes past experience. Like I have said before, there's people that relate to Eleven, there's people that relate to Mike, and there's people just like them in (long-lasting) relationships that go through these same problems. And that also makes the claims these psychologists make verifiable as you can definitely go by observation and know it's true. But if you go by the idea of Byler, this idea, if you're the psychologist, has to be eventually operationalized in the show. Byler was not once operationalized in the narrative. Their heart-to-hearts isn't concrete proof that they will get together. The colors they wear aren't proof they'll get together.

"All details matter" but the details they actually mean are the ones that they emphasize (Eleven's shrine of Mike - a physical representation of how important he is to her and her life)/(Mike's ring - a physical sign of Mike's commitment just on Eleven's finger). The fact they are still willing to wait long, LONG days of seeing if the other had gotten their letters or gifts in the mail is one of the crucial signs of loyalty. The details the Lawyer's use are not emphasized at all. A director can't simply take a look at everything in a long time frame and can't control what glances or movements the actors make on their face. Making their facial expressions or glances irrelevant unless it's emphasized.

- Like during Mike's apology to Will, the camera went close-up on Mike's smile.

- During when he was about to confess to Eleven at SBP, her hopeful expression was emphasized, helping us notice the sparkle in her eye

Byler is supported by ideas and theories (in my observation) and that's where Byler originates from. Without being operationalized, a psychologists' work remains as just theories. If they did a study on Mike and Will's friendship, then it would be concrete because that is what is being put to use. But not them as a couple. But that's just how I feel and you don't have to agree, but that is how I see this situation and I'm gonna roll with it because that is the more plausible case. It's a good thing you have many people that support your ship (unlike us) but again, a lot of misinterpretation and claiming others' intentions can get in the way of the real story and we need to remember that. Sorry if this was very long, I sort of got carried away, lol.

I've been digging in the trenches for more Mileven content, and even with all the "Mileven is a boring ahh ship" comments, say all you want, but I could care less, because at least I can actually go off of the scripts, teasers, promotion, trailers, scenes within the show, words from the cast, words from the writers, books, psycholoyical scientists (if that's the term), to KNOW my ship is endgame without having to look at literal shapes, colors, fake scripts, eye glances, lip glances, misinterpret soundtracks, and literal inconvenient objects in scenes to know my ship is endgame. You don't even know if it's Mike looking at Will or if it's literally just Finn's acting. You guys misinterpret scenes all of the time. Like how "In The Closet" starts playing when Mike projects during his fight with Will at Rank-O-Mania while searching for Eleven. Knowing what we do now, the actor himself, Noah Schnapp told us that Will was homosexual. Sure, Finn does support the Byler ship (Finn is a Mileven shipper by the way), but unlike Noah, he never once stated that Mike being homosexual was a possibility, so why in the world are we forcing that lifestyle onto a character that has absolutely no signs of being apart of that community like Will does. So that soundtrack was obviously relating to Will's situation with his clear-as-day feelings for Michael. "I mean, well, you can't just assume that Mike is gay" - Yes we can, simply from the fact that it's been prominent in his lifestyle literally thr first ever time we've watched the show. Eleven was the first girl to not be disguested by him, meaning Mike has been prying after girls before the show even started! When Mileven is endgame, don't be upset at the Duffers, be upset that you don't know the basics of being able to analyze a show, let alone a dynamic. Mike and Will are just a beautiful friendship, just straight up turning it into a romance completely defeats Will and Mike's tropes, which I bet you wouldn't want that, since you guys just love to bost about adequate writing like I do, and pedistalize them all the time. I'm sure you wouldn't want the potential of their characters to be put in jeopardy (they already did that with Will anyway). The fact that the two of you have a lawyer on your side does not mean that they're "smart" either, maybe in law, but not when it comes to ships. The lawyer should probably be like Mileven's scientists, and use actual, visible clues in the show and evidence from words of the Duffers instead of just using fan pages online to support his claims. I'd be horrified if he was my lawyer. Don't even try arguing with me as it would not change my views at all. Mileven endgame 💛💜

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Home at Last

F/O: Ambessa | Word Count: 1426 | Some suggestive allusions but nothing more than kissing actually happens // haha i finished the fic! ^^ this is based on one of the posts I made over the last few days :3 anyway i hope you enjoy it <33

April exhales softly as she steps into her new bedroom. It's the first moment of quiet she's had since she arrived in Rokrund, but she's not complaining… just maybe a little overwhelmed. She hadn't expected Azizi's little test he pulled while they were having lunch, but it seems that her response won her favor with both him and Ambessa.

She still huffs softly at the memory. She supposes she gets it -- him needing to make sure he won't turn on them when he has two children under ten in the estate -- but the fact he needed to test it at all hurts a little. Isn't moving to a completely different country enough of a show of loyalty?

She shakes her head to clear it as she strides across the room to the bed, and she gently runs her fingers along the royal blue blanket along the bottom of it. The color makes her smile. It seems Ambessa still remembers her favorite colors.

This still doesn't feel real. It feels almost like another vacation, though she knows that feeling will eventually fade as she gets used to living with them. She scans the room, almost a pure blank slate for her to fill with her belongings. Ambessa also mentioned that she's been given a study which is where she assumes the rest of her boxes went to.

As much as she'd like to flop onto the bed and relax, she knows her mind won't settle until she gets these boxes out of here.

It's easy to fall into a rhythm of pulling out her clothes and finding them a drawer or place in the closet to stay. April hums while she works and quickly loses track of time, so much that she doesn't notice when Ambessa arrives.

Ambessa had tried to give her some space, knowing that for someone as soft and sensitive as April, it must be overwhelming to be the focus of attention like she had been during lunch. In addition to Azizi's little stunt, Kino and Mel just wouldn't stop asking her questions.

Seeing April talking to them so sweetly and patiently made Ambessa fall even more in love with her. It also made it so much more difficult to give her some space afterward. Ambessa doesn't usually think of herself as clingy, but she wants to be around April now that they're finally in the same place again.

So, when she arrives at April's room and finds her unpacking her things so adorably, all humming and almost dancing to the song in her head… Ambessa smiles and leans against the doorframe.

The sight in front of her is cute enough that she doesn't want to interrupt. Though, as time passes and April doesn't notice her at all, she grows more amused. In a way, it's flattering. April trusts the safety of their estate enough to have dropped her guard completely.

Her eyes follow April's movements around the room: how she effortlessly refolds the clothes and tucks them in a drawer, the slight sway of her hips as she moves around, how her dress reveals more of her thighs as she leans up to hang another dress in her closet…

Ambessa swallows at the sight, leaning more against the door despite how she wants to cross the room and get her hands on that soft, smooth skin. It's been too long. Her mind has been overloaded with all sorts of fantasies ever since she received that blessed letter confirming when April would be able to move in.

They don't have time to get carried away. Yet. Dinner won't be too far off, and Ambessa would need more than a few hours to reacquaint herself with April sufficiently.

She's not sure a week would even be enough time, but she'll settle for waiting until after dinner. They should celebrate her first night living at the estate.

But… Ambessa can't go that long without kissing her. She's not even sure how she managed to not kiss her the instant she stepped off the boat, but she managed. And then, they've been too busy for her to pull her aside…

Her fingers curl around the side of the door, almost as if she's trying to hold herself back. She can't rush over there like some impatient teenager. April's lost in her own little world. Surely, that would startle her. Instead, Ambessa settles for clearing her throat softly.

"Good. You're making yourself at home," She murmurs, stepping into the room once April's head turns towards her.

"Ah! Ambessa… how long have you been here?" She asks, putting another dress on a hanger, trying to play it off like she didn't almost drop the garment at Ambessa's arrival.

"Mm…" Ambessa shrugs, a little smirk on her face. "Enough to know I should get you a stepstool or something… maybe several across the estate." She'd almost forgotten just how tiny April is compared to her.

April huffs softly and turns to hang the dress up, freezing when Ambessa takes the hanger and hangs it up for her with a lot less effort than it'd been taking April. As much as she knows Ambessa's teasing her, she deflates. "Yeah. You might have to."

"Though… this is your room…" Ambessa muses. "Everything should be at your height." She'll get that settled later. It'll be fixed while April's working on her study, she'll make sure of it. "But that's not what I came here for."

"Oh? Did you need me for something?" April asks.

Those pretty hazel eyes look up at her, and it takes everything in Ambessa to not throw her down on the bed right that instant. "Mm-hmm." She takes a step forward and sets a hand on April's shoulder, tugging her closer. "It's such a shame that you've been here for several hours and haven't kissed me yet."

April's eyes widen, and a pretty flush takes over her cheeks. Ambessa's fingers twitch, itching with the desire to scoop her up and hold her against her chest.

"Yeah… it is," April murmurs. She doesn't know if she has to explain the why: both the overwhelm and tiredness of her journey and also not knowing if she could just pull Ambessa away. Yes, Azizi might approve of their relationship, but it seems like an interesting thing to do the second she arrives.

Ambessa tsks softly. "You're overthinking again. Focus on me, sweet girl," She murmurs, lifting April's chin with a finger until their eyes meet, not allowing April to look away again. "All I was suggesting was that we change that. Though… I want to make sure it's clear: you are allowed to pull me away for kisses no matter what. This is your estate now."

She knows it'll take time for April to truly believe her, and to feel safe pulling her away for attention. But she'll remind her as often as it takes for that to sink in.

Regardless, seeing April's expression smooth out into a soft, shy one is worth it.

"Okay. Then, kiss me?" April asks. She might not fully believe the 'no matter what' part of that statement, but she's not in a mood to disagree with Ambessa right now. Not when she's been craving this since she first saw her today.

"Gladly."

Ambessa sits down on April's bed and tugs her to stand between her legs. Her hand settles on April's hip while the other cups her cheek, her hand nearly dwarfing April's head. Despite the difference, she's exceedingly gentle as she pulls April's face closer to press their lips together.

The warmth of them against hers has April melting against Ambessa's chest, her arms wrapping tightly around her. It feels like coming home.

In the truest sense of the word, she has. She won't have to communicate with her lover only by letter anymore. Now, if she needs Ambessa, she'll be just minutes away.

It's only as the first kiss turns to the second and so on that she realizes that she's not going to make any more progress on her unpacking. But as Ambessa kisses her again, almost tugging her properly into her lap, she shrugs it off.

It doesn't matter.

She has all the time in the world to unpack, and she's sure if she asked, Ambessa would help her finish up. But for now, she gets to kiss the woman she loves most the world with the sweet knowledge that they'll never have to be apart for so long again.

Nothing has ever felt so perfect before in her life.

[wormtime123]

thinking hard. about last life grian saying about etho “he has no loyalty to you, he’s just immediately teamed up with the next guy that’s come along. if he loved you why didn’t he give you a life" and secret life etho saying about grian “he had to move on with his life, what was he supposed to do, mourn the whole time?" both projecting their own reasonings for ‘abandoning’ certain alliances when they turned south. these two being teamed and staying loyal until the end. can anyone hear me

[runaria]

有缘千里来相会

Fate brings together those that are a thousand miles apart

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna if you can sleep with him because you’re scared

“no.”

the door slams in your face, grazing your nose ever so slightly. you don’t know what you were expecting when you knocked at 2am — maybe you weren’t thinking at all. the booming thunder outside was dizzying and your feet raced you out of your room and down the hall in record speed before you could even process the rattling of your bones. 

you knock again. the door swings open. he is not happy. 

sukuna’s sporting a scowl, piercings glinting from the hallway light, as he glares down at you. he’s shirtless and wearing boxers that hang low on his hips, revealing sharp angles and thick lines of ink. on any other occasion, you would have swooned to yourself but now’s not the time. 

“please, s’kuna. i can’t sleep on my own like this.”

his brow quirks up. “and that’s my problem because?”

fuck. 

he’s not listening. you can’t even blame him — it’s late and he’s already warned you he’s not the sweet type, that you shouldn’t treat him like a boyfriend, and he doesn’t cuddle so unless you’re up for spreading your legs, you should keep your distance. but you thought since you guys have been having dinner together, going out for errands, and even building inside jokes that he might feel inclined to do you a little favour. 

“y-yeah, you’re right. sorry.” you jolt when the next rumble sends the apartment swaying. “oh! fuck. just…sorry. night.”

scrambling back, you clutch yourself tight, resenting the shudders running through you, like the storm has wormed its way in and is eating you from the inside. 

“ah!”

two huge arms wrap around you, lifting you up, back, and tossing you onto a bed. you bounce once. twice. sukuna makes an exasperated noise and runs his hand through his hair. “you’re an annoying little shit. you better not snore or i’m kicking you out.”

then, he’s climbing in behind you, lying on his stomach, faced buried in his pillow and paying you no mind. you’re in his bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you’ve been here before and will be again. it did occur to you that things might get awkward, but the way he’s not even the slightest bit tense and letting you hike up the covers over both of you even though he runs hot tells a different story. 

minutes pass by, you still can’t sleep. the storm is suffocating. just as your eyes flutter shut, a flash of lightning breaches the blanket of his curtains and a fierce roaring follows shortly after, shaking the bed frame. shit.

“quit shivering. can’t fucking sleep when you’re on vibration mode.”

“sorry.”

he opens one eye to judge you. “you scared of a little thunder? embarrassing.”

“yeah.”

grunting, he mutters something, as if scolding himself and throws an arm around you. sukuna rolls you two over so he’s on his back and you’re on his chest. he’s warm and hardened with muscles, yet you melt into him as if he’s a teddy bear. he smells nice too. 

you’re rendered confused, unable to reconcile his actions with the relevance to anything that had transpired in the last ten minutes. but…you hear it. or rather, you don’t. his body is shielding you from the sounds outside, distracting your senses with the feel of him, bare, against you. the thunders are washed away by the beating of something inside his chest.

quietly, you quip, feeling the need to cover up the heat rising to your cheeks, “i didn’t know you had a heart.”

sukuna scoffs. “yeah, neither. now shut up, don’t want to deal with your grumpy ass in the morning.”

maybe you are closer than you thought. though you won’t bring that up to him, knowing how defensive he gets. unspoken and subtle, you’re content with the way he shows his loyalty. it’s sincere and consistent and that’s all that matters.

so, you find yourself falling asleep dreaming of a fire engulfing you, drowning all else away, and laying a gentle kiss on your head. 

[plutotheplum]

Beating Hearts

sylus x fem!reader

summary: following the aftermath of his match, sylus shows you how much he adores you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, loss of virginity, oral sex, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, p in v, belly bulge, praise kink, inappropriate use of evol

wc: 4.1k

a/n: he was so sweet in this card <3 if you would like to read an mma au with sylus (mma fighter!sylus x manager!reader), then you can find it here! :)

also on ao3!

“Are the strong always required to be strong?”

Sylus’ words ring out in your mind as you sit beside him on the stairs, draped in silence. He runs his hand through his hair, having wiped off the rivulets of sweat that were sliding down his skin with a towel.

Was he trying to be vulnerable with you? It’s the only reason you can think of as to why he would ask that question. The thought of him being devoid of strength is a nauseating one. He wouldn’t be the same without his strength, the raw power he carried, his Evol a testament to that. 

Absent-mindedly, you play with the ring he had given you. Onychinus’ leader is a confusing man. There’s an unexpected softness to him that you’re not used to. It unnerves you a little, the way Sylus had pressed his face into your hair in a gentle kiss.

You stare at the side of his face, Sylus’ eyes have slid shut due to the lack of conversation. He looks even more vulnerable like this and you can’t imagine what you’d do with yourself if he was hurt, or even worse killed if his healing abilities somehow failed him. It’s only then that you realize you care more about the asshole than you should. 

Still, it doesn’t stop you from sliding closer, your side pressing against his. Sylus’ eyes flutter open, a smirk pulling at his lips when he sees how close you’ve gotten.

“Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks in a drawl.

“No,” you shoot back, eyes slipping back towards the ring on your finger. “It’s just-” you sigh, avoiding his gaze completely, “the answer to your question is no. The strong aren’t always required to be strong.”

Sylus raises his brows, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You glare back at him, cheeks flushing under his knowing gaze.

“What I mean to say,” you grouse, “is that it would be good if you were strong all the time, but if you aren’t, then- then you don’t have to be, around- around me.”

“Is that your twisted way of saying you care for me?” Sylus muses, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“And if it is?” you murmur, leaning into his touch when he traces the tips of his fingers over the curve of your cheek.

“I’d be grateful,” Sylus replies, gripping your chin gently.

Your breath hitches when he leans forward, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. His calloused hands cup your cheeks afterwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. Sylus’ thumbs smooth over the expanse of your cheeks and you reach up, hands curling around his wrists.

“Don’t you think you’re giving too much of yourself away?” you whisper.

“Perhaps,” Sylus murmurs, his breath fanning across your face. “Will you use it against me?”

There’s no uncertainty in your mind as to what he’s asking of you. Loyalty. Yet, you and Sylus come from entirely different worlds, ones that don’t mesh well together, ones that would make blind loyalty a bitter curse.

Against better judgment, you shake your head. Sylus lets out a low laugh, surprise flashing through his eyes at your answer.

“Looks like we both have our weaknesses, sweetie.”

You let out a slow exhale when he tilts your head, lips pressing against your cheek in a reverent kiss. Sylus stares down at you, his thumbs running over your cheeks again. Your lips part when he nears, but he doesn’t kiss you the way you want, instead dropping a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering.

“You said you adored me,” you say weakly, trying to stop him from rising to his feet.

“I do,” Sylus says, smiling down at you. His hand reaches out, pulling you to your feet, his arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. “But I won’t show you how much I adore you here.”

-

The ride back is a tense one.

You keep fidgeting in your seat, fingers alternating between playing with your dress and the ring on your finger. If Sylus notices, he doesn’t say anything, instead keeping his eyes on the road as he drives. It takes everything in you to stop yourself from reaching out for his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Relax,” he murmurs when the traffic light turns red. His hand spreads over your thigh, warm and comforting and you bite back a whine, eyes slipping shut.

Sylus leans across the center console, his lips pressing against your cheek. You can feel his smile against your skin, your hand reaching up to run through his hair when he drags his lips down across your jaw.

“You’re not playing fair,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side so he can kiss your cheek again.

“I never said I would,” Sylus replies, squeezing your thigh again before letting go as the traffic light turns green.

Sylus helps you out of the car, nodding to one of his men to take it elsewhere while his hand encases yours, pulling you through the doors and down the hallway towards his room.

You watch as he manages to conjure up a vase, disappearing into the bathroom to fill it with some water as he unwraps the bouquet of flowers you had given him. It’s an unfitting image, the most dangerous man in the N109 zone and Linkon combined taking such care with the flowers so as to not crumple the delicate petals.

You wonder whether he’ll be just as gentle with you.

A squeak escapes you as his Evol surrounds you, the red tendrils lifting you off of your feet and bringing you closer to him, until you’re settled on his desk, legs dangling off the edge, feet not quite reaching the ground.  

Sylus steps between your legs, crowding into your space, his hands on either side of you, against the wood of his desk. Your head tilts back to meet his darkened eyes better, breath hitching when his hands squeeze at your waist. He pets his hands across your sides lazily, his forehead pressing against yours.

Soft, airy breaths leave you, back arching into his touch as Sylus’ hands roam over you, touching every inch that he can find. His nose nudges against yours, and you rise to meet the challenge, hands splaying across his firm chest before your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him closer.

“There’s something you should know,” you whisper when Sylus presses his face into the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your skin as he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses.

“What?” he murmurs, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling to the edge of his desk.

“I-” your breath falters, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. You try again, but your breath gets caught in your throat, something akin to an odd gulp sounding in the quiet room.

Sylus draws back when he senses your hesitation, his brows raising. You blink up at him, shrinking under his piercing gaze. 

“Hey,” Sylus says when you try to avert your gaze, trapping your chin between his fingers and forcing you to meet his eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ve never done this before,” you blurt out in a rush, cheeks flushing deeper.

Sylus stares down at you in surprise, clearly taken aback by this new revelation. He doesn’t say anything for what seems like an eternity and the more uncomfortable you grow, trying to squirm off of the desk.

He doesn’t let you, gripping your chin tighter in a bruising grip, his carmine eyes boring down into yours.

“Never?” Sylus asks finally, his head tilting.

“Never,” you mumble, a pout making your lower lip jut out, feeling sullen at his reaction.

Sylus hums before a slow grin spreads across his face, his hands cupping your cheeks, thumb smoothing over the plush of your lips.

“Were you saving yourself for me, sweetie?”

“Shut up!” you retort, swatting his chest.

Sylus laughs, nuzzling into your cheek and kissing it. You lean into it, eyes fluttering shut when he strokes his hand over your hair, cupping the back of your head.

“I suppose I’ll have to take care of you then, hm?” he muses.

“You’re making it seem like a chore,” you huff out, pushing at his shoulders, sending him a glare.

He grins, hoisting you up into his arms. You squeak, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, hands tightening on his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Quite the contrary, sweetie,” Sylus says, planting a kiss to your sternum as he carries you to his bed. “Once I have you, I won’t be inclined to let you go.”

You stare up at him shyly when he lays you down, his hand catching yours as he kisses your knuckles, fingers grazing the ring on your finger.

“Perhaps I ought to get you a better fitting one.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you mutter, flushing at the implication of his words.

You reach for him anyways, lacing your fingers together and tugging him closer. Sylus’ body settles between your thighs, and you whine, lips parting as his face draws closer.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you go,” Sylus murmurs, peering into your eyes, “I meant it.”

The conviction in his voice has your heart fluttering, a satisfied smile pulling at your lips. Sylus laughs, the tip of his nose brushing yours gently as he lowers his head to kiss you.

You stop him, thumb pressing against his lips.

“Do you promise, Sylus?”

“I already lost you once,” he mutters, “I won’t lose you again.”

Your brows furrow, confusion flitting across your face. “What are you talking a-”

Sylus doesn’t give you a chance to finish, shutting you up with a kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, hand leaving untangling from his to cup his cheek instead. A soft gasp spills out of you when Sylus’ hands creep up under your dress, his fingers squeezing at the fat of your thighs.

His kisses grow hungrier, taking and taking until you’re all but gasping, tugging at his snowy hair in an attempt to get him to detach so you can breathe. Your lips are slick with spit and Sylus grins at the sight, collecting the drool that’s escaped from your mouth with his tongue, licking up the side of your cheek and into your mouth.

“M-more,” you whine needily, legs locking around his hips.

“Wet already?” he whispers, fingers reaching between your bodies to find your panties drenched. Sylus coos, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit to rub firm circles into the throbbing bud. “Is that all it takes? My baby just needs some kisses to make her cunt leak.”

You glare at him, pinching his shoulder at the vulgar words. Sylus smirks lazily and you squeal when he slaps your ass playfully, his body jostling closer to capture your lips in another hot, demanding kiss.

Sylus’ hardening cock grinds into your clothed cunt and you whimper, arms wrapping around his neck tighter. His hand smoothes over your hair, keeping you in place, fingers dragging against the skin of your thigh harshly as he pants into the crook of your neck. 

“Gonna let me lick that pretty pussy?” Sylus asks, his fingers toying with the band of your panties, “hm, sweetie?”

You nod hazily, sitting up for him. He helps pull your dress up over your head, your bra soon after, his eyes darkening when he sees your breasts and hardening nipples in the cool air.

“Don’t stare,” you grumble, shying away.

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head before lowering it to press a kiss to your right nipple. You whine at the unfamiliar sensation, gasping when his tongue lolls out, licking over your nipple before enclosing his mouth around your breast.

“Oh-” you mewl, pulling his head closer, “S- Sylus, fuck- ngh-” 

He flicks his tongue against your hardened nipple, swirling around your skin for a moment before pulling away with a soft, suctioning pop. You fist his tank top, yanking him closer to smash your lips against his.

Sylus grins against your lips, squeezing at your hips as you shove at his chest and crawl up onto his lap. You’re pent up, and can hardly believe you have Sylus here, mouth dropping open as you drag your clothed cunt against his stiffening cock.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, gripping your thighs as he drags you up his body, stopping short of his face.

“W- wait,” you sputter, trying to squirm your way back down, “Sylus!”

“Sit on my face, baby,” Sylus says, smoothing his hands up your thighs and squeezing at your breasts.

“That’s- that’s weird,” you hiss.

He rolls his eyes and you shriek when his Evol wraps around you, picking you up with ease and places you onto his mouth. Your body jolts when his tongue licks across your ruined panties, hands gripping the pillows above his head desperately.

“Oh fuck-” you whine, voice strangled. You bite your lip hard, hands fisting Sylus’ hair when he pulls your panties to the side and licks across your bare cunt. 

The bridge of his nose presses into your clit perfectly, and Sylus taps your thighs, his eyes peering up at you as he urges you to move. You find yourself unable to look away, desperation swirling in your gaze as you rock your cunt across his mouth, heat shooting through your stomach as he stares up at you intensely.

Sylus presses his head back and you reach for his hand, squeezing tightly as he sucks his clit into your mouth. He runs his thumb across your skin, slurping messily at your cunt. You shudder, moans and whines spilling out into the air as he ravages your pussy with his mouth. 

It nearly makes you cum when he manhandles your body, hiccuping at the way his thick biceps flex as he pulls you off his face and places you flat onto your back. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he rasps, thumbing apart your slick folds and groaning when he sees how messy you are, your slick and his spit coating your inner thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing pitifully.

Sylus buries his face back into your wet pussy, licking across your folds messily before splaying his large hand against your stomach, tilting his head to kiss your swollen clit. He strokes the calloused pads of his fingers across it gently and you twitch, tugging at his hair wantonly.

“Fuck,” he snarls, gripping your thighs roughly, fingers dimpling your flesh as he shoves his face in harder, trying to burrow into your cunt, “‘s not enough.”

“‘m gonna-” you whimper, “if you keep doing that- hah- ‘m gonna cum!”

“Good,” Sylus mutters, sucking your clit back into his mouth, “cum on my tongue, baby.”

You bite back a scream when he presses his fingers inside, curling them and thrusting them in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, trapping him against your cunt and Sylus groans while you suck in a shuddering breath, watching with dazed eyes as his hips grind into the bed spread. The muscles in his broad back shifting drive you further to the edge, but it's the press of his nose against your clit that sends you over, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching as you twitch and jolt, legs kicking out as you cum.

He keeps you pinned in place, licking over your puffy folds, even as you tug at his hair desperately in an attempt to make him stop. Sylus’ eyes meet your wild ones, the corner of his mouth ticking up as he presses a sloppy kiss to your clit. He lands a few more soft kisses, massaging your thighs as you come down from your high.

“I- I need a moment,” you mumble out, body curling into itself, eyes slipping shut at the overwhelming pleasure.

Sylus slots his body behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he tugs you into his chest. You lean into him tiredly when he kisses down your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your side soothingly.

“Was that good?” he asks quietly.

You can hear how smug he sounds, an irritated huff of air leaving you. Sylus smiles against your cheek and you tilt your head back, pecking his lips gently.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Now, now, sweetie,” he drawls, rubbing circles into your hip, “don’t be like that.”

You pout and he grins, dipping his head to kiss you again. Sylus’ hips have begun to move, his clothed cock rubbing into your ass, the hard length straining against the flimsy fabric of his shorts.

“Off,” you murmur, pulling at his tank top, “take it off.”

Sylus takes it off without complaint and you smile at the sight, hands spreading across his chest appreciatively. His shorts come off soon after and you swallow nervously at the sight, the bob of his thick cock entirely too intimidating.

“Relax,” he murmurs, lips pressed against your ear, “you’ll be fine.”

You moan softly when he kisses your shoulder, his hard cock grinding into your ass again. Sylus lifts your leg, and you whimper when he slots his cock between your thighs, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair.

“So soft, baby,” Sylus whispers, fucking his cock between your thighs, “so perfect for me. My pretty, perfect girl.”

“I think I’m ready,” you breathe out, feeling the head of his cock nudge against your clit every now and then, “just- just go slow, please.”

Sylus grasps your face, turning it back towards him to kiss you. It’s softer this time, lips working against yours as he grasps his cock, rubbing it through your folds and coating it in your slick before notching the tip of it against your pussy.

He kisses you through it, doesn’t let you squirm away, keeps his lips against yours as he presses his cock in. You shift uncomfortably and Sylus nuzzles into your cheek, letting out a low hum.

“Doing so good, sweetie,” he praises, seeing the tears prick at your eyes, “so, so good.”

Sylus is thick, practically splitting you open, forcing your pussy to accommodate him. You whimper in pain and he kisses you gently, brushing your hair away from your forehead as he continues to sink his cock in.

“Too big,” you pout, feeling completely and utterly full.

“Look,” Sylus whispers, his fingers brushing across your stomach when the entirety of his cock sinks into your stretched out pussy.

You peer down to where he’s pointing, flushing when you see the bulge in your stomach, his fat cock the culprit. 

“All mine,” Sylus murmurs, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he rolls his hips in, making you gasp and dig your fingers into his forearm. “My pretty fuckin’ baby, all fuckin’ mine.”

“‘s too much,” you hiccup, eyes fluttering shut and moaning when he presses down on the bulge gently, a tingle shooting through your body, making your toes curl. 

“Take my cock, sweetie,” he whispers, kissing your neck reverently, his fingers pinching at your nipples.

“Sylus,” you whine when he draws his hips back out and thrusts his cock back in, “want- want more.”

“Are you sure?” Sylus asks, staring down at you, “I thought it was too much?”

Your eyes narrow, hand reaching for his, letting your Evol flare, resonating with him. Sylus lets out a choked noise, his head dropping and eyes squeezing shut, body shuddering behind yours. You smile up at him, satisfied and smug. 

“Little brat,” he hisses, though there’s no real venom in his voice. “Again.”

You do as he wants, resonating with him again, moaning loudly when he humps his hips into you, cock dragging through your clenching walls. Somehow, you can hear your own heartbeat, the energy flowing through you heightening your senses as Sylus’ Evol strengthens. 

The red and black mist caresses your body, grazing across your nipples and your clit. You whine into the pillows, hand grasping his tighter. Sylus’ Evol eventually dims down the more he gets lost in the wet heat of your cunt, his arm curling around your leg to hoist it up as he fucks his cock into you.

Sylus moves your leg after a while, slotting his hips between your legs again, hips rocking into you. You let out soft airy noises and strangled moans, nails clawing down his back as Sylus presses his face against your neck, growling lowly.

“Feel so good,” he groans, leaving sloppy kisses across your skin, fastening his pace when he feels your legs lock around his hips.

“Sy- Sylus,” you moan, pulling his head up to kiss him.

He returns the kiss just as hungrily, planting his hand on your head to hug you to him as he tilts your hips up a little, cock driving into you. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, hugging him closer as he presses his body flush against yours, heavy balls slapping against your skin, the lewd sound emanating through the quietness of the room.

“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum,” Sylus rasps, dragging kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Then- then cum,” you hiccup, tugging at the strands of his hair gently, “want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, peering down into your eyes, “want me to stuff this little cunt full?”

You nod eagerly, and he grins devilishly, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck obediently, eyes fluttering shut at the comfort of his thumb, losing yourself in him.

“Resonate with me when you cum,” Sylus whispers, his voice strained as he feels the walls of your pussy clenching tighter and tighter.

He laces your fingers together, bringing your hand to his lips. You can see the way he looks down at you, as though he can’t quite believe you’re here, his head tilting to press his lips against the ring firmly.

It’s a struggle to control your Evol, but you do as he asks, resonating when you feel the tight coil in your lower stomach snap as he shoves his cock inside of you all the way, gasping at the way it throbs inside of you. Your orgasm is blinding, body shuddering violently as you cum, Sylus’ Evol making you see stars.

It feels as though you’ve been set alight, somehow able to feel the energy pulsing around you, just like how his cock is inside of you. Sylus isn’t faring much better, his hips stuttering to a jerky stop as he slumps over you, gasping raggedly. His cum spills into you, hot and thick, adding to the haze in your mind.

The red and black tendrils stroke over your body gently and you whine softly, chasing after the mist of his Evol when it dissipates. Your thighs are sticky with his cum, his softening cock slipping out of you, cum leaking out soon after.

“I adore you,” Sylus whispers after a moment, pulling you into his chest, kissing your forehead.

“I know,” you say, eyes fluttering shut when he kisses you, slow and soft, his fingers sliding over your jaw and across the expanse of your cheek.

You smile up at him, body draped over his, chin resting on his chest. Sylus runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, scratches your scalp gently and presses his thumb against your lips for you to kiss.

“I’m glad it was you,” you murmur, head tilting to the side.

Sylus hums, leaning in to kiss you tenderly before he stands up. You bite your lip, watching his broad back as he disappears and returns with warm, damp cloth. He wipes your inner thighs with care, and over your puffy pussy, cleaning the cum and slick that soils your skin.

Your feet press against his chest playfully and he smiles, hands curling around your ankles to kiss the soles of your feet.

“Sore?” he asks, peppering lazy kisses to your ankles.

You nod, feeling a dull ache settle in your thighs and pussy. Sylus kisses your feet again and finds you a shirt to wear, pulling a pair of boxers up over his hips. You curl into him, staring up into his eyes.

“You said you lost me once,” you say quietly, fingers tracing over his chest, “but we’ve never met before.”

A pained expression comes over Sylus, his lips pulling down into a frown. You can’t understand what he’s so upset about, you don’t even understand what he meant when he said that.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sylus murmurs, his arm tightening around you, “I have you now.”

You purse your lips, examining his expression a little more intently, but whatever pain was there is now gone. His lips meet yours and you kiss, thumbs stroking over his cheeks soothingly.

“Then keep me,” you whisper, “for as long as you want.”

Sylus runs his fingers over the champion’s ring, sitting prettily on your ring finger. He holds your eyes as he brings it to his lips and kisses it again.

“Eternity, then.” Sylus whispers, forehead pressing against yours. “Crows keep that which is shiny. You, sweetie, happen to burn the brightest in my eyes.”

[justcat-judging]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞

⋆. 𐙚˚- 𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅 '𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒑 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆' 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒂 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅.

𝑰𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝒀𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖, 𝑹𝒆𝒐 𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝑵𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒐, 𝑹𝒊𝒏 𝑰𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊, 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒖 𝑹𝒚𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒆, 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝑲𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓, 𝑺𝒂𝒆 𝑰𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊

𝑰𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝒀𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊

It started as a joke.

You sent Yoichi a snap of you in the mirror, flexing a very unimpressive "bicep," captioned, "When he's copying your snaps, so you pulled this move." It was part of that dumb TikTok trend you saw, and honestly? You didn't expect a reply.

But a few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

Yoichi had sent back a snap—his serious face in the mirror, mimicking your exact pose, sleeve rolled up, arm flexed. His bicep actually had definition, which made it ten times funnier. You could tell he was trying so hard not to laugh.

Then he messaged:

"You tryna start a flex war?"

"Because I'm winning."

You choked on your water, grinning like an idiot.

Touché, Isagi. Touché.

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒂 𝑴𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖

You sent the snap mid-laugh—shirt sleeve tugged up, face exaggeratedly serious, flexing your "bicep" like it was made of steel. The caption read:

"Since you love copying my snaps, here's one to test your loyalty."

A beat passed.

Then your phone lit up with a reply.

It was Bachira, shirt halfway off, in the middle of what looked like the team dorm hallway. He had one eyebrow raised, flexing both arms like a wrestler in a dramatic pose. His caption?

"HA! Is that all you got? I’m FLEXING my LOVE for you."

"Also my muscles. But mostly love."

You burst out laughing. Somewhere in the background of the snap, someone (probably Isagi) was yelling "PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON!"

Bachira just sent another photo of his bicep… with a crudely drawn smiley face on it.

"He says hi."

𝑹𝒆𝒐 𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒈𝒆

You sent the snap, flexing your arm with a teasing grin, trying to match the same playful energy from before.

"Let's see if you can top this one, Reo."

You knew he wouldn't back down from a challenge.

It only took a minute before his response came. Reo, in front of a mirror again, perfecting his pose as usual. His flex was smooth, his bicep clearly defined, and his expression… well, still effortlessly smug.

"Is that your best shot? You'll have to try harder if you want to beat me."

Reo's confidence was something else, and it showed in the way he held his pose like he was born to flex. He wasn't just copying you—he was trying to show you that he was the one setting the bar.

You couldn't help but smile.

𝑵𝒂𝒈𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒐

You stretched your arm, flexed in the mirror, and snapped a photo with a wide grin plastered on your face.

"He keeps copying my snaps, so I hit him with this one."

You figured Nagi wouldn't respond. Too much effort. Too lazy. Too… Nagi.

But then—ping.

Snap received. It was Nagi, in bed, half under the covers, one arm sticking out just enough to mirror your pose. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were barely open. But his flex? Still better than yours.

"Ugh. So much work. Did I win?"

The worst part? He probably didn't even try.

And yes—he definitely won. (My heart)

𝑹𝒊𝒏 𝑰𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊

You aimed your camera at the mirror, flexed with all the fake intensity you could muster, and snapped the photo.

"Since you wanna copy my snaps so bad, try this one."

You smirked as you sent it, expecting either no reply or something dripping with passive aggression.

But a few minutes later, Rin's snap popped up.

Same angle. Same flex. His face was unreadable, jaw set, but he’d clearly copied you.

Only difference? His arm actually looked dangerous.

"You done?"

No emojis. No extra words. Just peak Rin.

But you could feel the tiniest bit of effort behind that mirror-perfect pose.

He copied you. And that was basically love, Rin-style. (Headlock when?)

𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒖 𝑹𝒚𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒆

You hit send with a smug grin, flexing your arm dramatically in the mirror.

"Let's see if he copies this one."

Shidou wasn't the type to pass up a challenge—especially if it was stupid.

Sure enough, his snap came fast.

He was shirtless, of course, flexing both arms like he was on a magazine cover, wild grin in full effect. Hair messy. Chaos radiating.

"You tryna turn me on or start a flex-off?"

"Cuz I’m down for both."

You stared at your phone.

Yeah. You walked right into that one.

𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑲𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓

You sent the snap with a playful smirk, dramatically flexing in the mirror like you had biceps worthy of worship.

"He keeps copying my snaps, so I hit him with this one."

You weren't sure if Kaiser would even take the bait.

Then—ping.

Snap incoming: Kaiser, shirt slightly pulled up, sleeve pushed back, perfectly copying your pose with annoyingly perfect lighting and annoyingly real muscle.

"Cute. But mine's premium."

Of course he added a smug wink at the end. You could practically hear the ego through the screen.

He copied you, alright. But he still made it all about him.

Very Kaiser of him.

𝑺𝒂𝒆 𝑰𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊

You sent the snap with a casual flex, barely putting in any effort—just enough to make it look like you were playing along.

"Let's see you copy this."

You weren't sure if Sae would humor you, but a few moments later, your phone buzzed.

It was Sae. Of course, he was posing like a model, not even breaking a sweat. His flex was effortless, and his eyes were narrowed like he was sizing you up.

"Pathetic. Try harder next time."

The flex wasn't the only thing on display. He made it clear that he was above the game, even as he played along. But he did copy you.

Sae was always a little extra, and you kind of loved it.

𝑨/𝒏: 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰'𝒎 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕.. 𝑰 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒌𝒚𝒖𝒖 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐?

-𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐯𝐞𝐫

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

it’s you, it’s you, it’s always you ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the blue lock boys who will only ever have one lover throughout their life…and the reasons why.

(a/n: this one can be cute but it can be just as humbling and cruel at the same time. i tried to be as realistically romantic as possible, remembering that the blue lock boys are still in the end, teenage boys)

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

the ones who have one lover simply because they’re loyal

isagi, yukimiya, kaiser

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ isagi - growing up with a loving family who loves him unconditionally, isagi is naturally someone who believes in monogamy and traditional dating values, such as loyalty. even if there is a hypothetical scenario where isagi falls out of love with his lover, he’ll still stay because he simply believes that it’s just “the right thing to do”. even if his lover breaks up with him, he’ll stay single because he doesn’t want the potential scenario where he falls back in love with his lover while dating someone else.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ yukimiya - loyalty and good morals is something that yukimiya shows a lot of in the series, so naturally, it’s the same when it comes to romance with him. cheating on someone is a clear “no” for yukimiya—why would he date someone in the first place if he’s just going to cheat on them anyways? and if his lover ever cheats on him? well, he’ll be far too heartbroken and insecure to ever go on a date with someone else ever again. he’ll probably try getting his lover back though.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ kaiser - i know, i know. kaiser, of all people, loyal? i think the biggest factor in this is his mother and also his constant needed desire for unconditional love. kaiser’s mother left him and his father, and kaiser is most definitely not wanting to follow in his mother’s footsteps. plus, kaiser canonically having studied psychology makes it clear that he probably knows that if he stays loyal to someone, that’ll make it easier to make them love him unconditionally. ultimately, kaiser’s sure as hell a red flag, but he’s not heartless.

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

the ones who have one lover because no one else wants them

bachira, nagi, hiori

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ bachira - i think we all know that bachira grew up pretty much alone. with such a lack of friends, the moment someone shows interest in him, he’ll latch onto them. it’s to the point where it gets unhealthy, as he’ll get into a nearly depressed state if someone he latches onto finds someone else, like his reaction when isagi and rin were ignoring him during the second selection. because of this, he’ll realize pretty damn quickly that if he wants someone else to be loyal to him, he’ll have to be just as devoted.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nagi - similar to bachira, he grew up with basically no friends until he met reo. although nagi doesn’t seem to care nearly as much, ever since meeting reo, he is much more attached. nagi is self aware that he’s not the most pleasant of the bunch, so similar to how he is with reo, if he meets someone who genuinely cares, he will latch onto them. sure, there will be times where he will leave for a little while; but in the end, he will always come crawling back to his lover because he knows that no one else would want him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ hiori - hiori is a weird one. a lot of people definitely have a crush on hiori; however, due to his childhood and the way that his parents treated him like more of a tool, hiori definitely just wants love—similar to kaiser. however, the biggest difference is that when hiori finds someone who loves him, he doesn’t realize that other people love him too. it very much matches the saying “love is blind” if you don’t understand what im saying. hiori is obsessed with the idea of being loved that he’ll do anything to help and stay loyal.

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

the ones who have one lover because they want no one else

reo, kunigami, barou

(a/n: remember kids, THESE are the MEN—not boys—who you should date)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ reo - reo is someone where if he falls in love with someone, there is no one else in the world except for him and his lover. just looking at the way that reo acted when nagi left him for isagi says enough already on its own; reo didn’t try to find someone else to replace nagi—he tried getting nagi back and grieved. when reo falls in love, he truly wants no one else. even if someone goes on their knees and begs for reo to give someone else a chance, he’ll just reject them. in fact, reo will do anything for his lover to stay.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ kunigami - walking green flag. growing up with younger sisters, he knows that being loyal and dating someone who he truly loves is extremely important. he always makes sure to not date someone or give someone who he doesn’t like the wrong idea because he doesn’t want to break their heart and make himself feel guilty. similar to reo, once kunigami falls in love, the world is just him and his lover. to him, falling in love is an eternal thing—something forever. and kunigami knows better than to take advantage of that.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ barou - just like kunigami, barou always grew up with younger sisters who he took good care of. he understands to be a loyal man—that it’s important to treat someone who he loves in a devoted and loyal way. it’s rare for barou to fall in love because this man KNOWS his worth. he doesn’t want someone who will take advantage of him and his housewife ways; so barou falling in love is—like kunigami—a lifetime thing. he’s dedicated to whoever his lover is because…why shouldn’t he? if he fell in love, he won’t fall out of love.

[clockwayswrites]

Birb Thoughts, P 45

masterpost so I maybe kept writing last night. please no editing or concrit <3

It turned out that Danny was actually right. Tim hated that, a little, but mostly because it meant that he was happily doing a puzzle. He’d come to Danny for help, or something, after all, so he wasn’t mad that it worked. Just… it was a basic puzzle. Damian would mock him if he the kid knew.

Fuck, Damian. They were going to be right back to square one, weren’t they? With the stabbing and murder attempts. Damian was going to hate him again.

“Want to talk about what just went through that head of yours?” Danny asked as he dropped another handful of background pieces into the right bowl.

Tim took it and moved around the different colors idly with his finger. “I don’t know,” Tim said honestly.

“Okay,” Danny said back easily and returned to sorting.

“It’s Damian,” Tim sighed, because apparently he did want to talk about it. “He had a lot of problems when he first came here. Like, a lot is such a huge understatement for the problems he had. His other side of the family is really fucked up. They’re controlling and put only loyalty above efficiency in serving the family. Loyalty means blood ties.”

“Ah… and now what he knew as blood ties has changed?”

“Yeah, for the worst. You don’t know how much weight Damian puts on being the blood son. It’s something he has even if he fucks up. It’s there no matter what. It’s a way he’s better than the rest of us. Like, not as…” Tim sighed again. “I thought at first it was a superiority thing, but it’s more like a security blanket. And now that’s going to be gone.”

“Not gone,” Danny corrected, “just different. He’s still a blood son. It’s just now he has you as blood too.”

“Except he’s always been worse about me. If, like, Dick was the blood son it might not matter that much, Damian loves Dick. But it’s me. Damian has just started liking me,” Tim said.

“That can’t be true.”

“It is! His grandfather has this weird obsession with me and my skill set. I’m not blood but I come from a powerful family. And I’m a lot like Bruce, which, wow do we get now I guess, but he’s always put me in this pedestal,” Tim tried to explain without explaining. “It’s always pissed Damian off. And now I’ll be a blood son and the oldest. This is just going to make it worse again.”

Danny gave a thoughtful hum as he frowned down at the piece in his hand. “Asteroid or planet?”

Tim leaned over to look at it. “Planet.”

Danny dropped the piece in the bowl Tim had. “So, here’s the thing, humming bird… I’m not saying that it’s not going to be tough or that Damian won’t regress some. I know he has a temper and I know that gets in the way of showing how much he cares, but Damian cares about you. I don’t have a single doubt of that after seeing you two together. And as long as you both can remember that you care about each other, it will sort itself out.”

“Love conquers all?” Tim asked with a sad little smile.

Danny snorted. “Hardly. I love my parents and they love me, but that doesn’t mean that they weren’t bad parents or that I have to choose to have a relationship with them. But Damian doesn’t just love you, he cares about you. And caring about someone goes a really, really long way.”

Tim blinked down at the bowl in his hands. “Oh. Oh, that’s… yeah.”

“How about we get some dinner ordered and then you can start sorting that background bowl,” Danny suggested.

After a deep breath, Tim nodded. “Yeah… I think I want Thai.”

“Great, I love Thai.”

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which maybe they're not so different

You always said your first love wore the number five.

It was a throwaway line, a little joke you’d make when someone asked about your type. You’d smirk, maybe take a sip of your drink, and say, “I guess I’ve always been into girls who wore five.” You never thought too hard about it. It was silly, nostalgic. A leftover from your Disney Channel days, when you’d watch Liv and Maddie after school with your hair in a messy ponytail and your homework half done, heart fluttering every time Maddie Rooney stepped on screen in her Ridgewood jersey, all blonde confidence and goofy charm.

You didn’t know it then, but something about that character stuck with you. The competitive edge. The unshakeable loyalty. The way she always wore her heart on her sleeve, even when she pretended she didn’t.

It was harmless. A memory from your childhood. A cute thing you’d share with friends, never knowing that somewhere along the line, the universe would double down on the bit.

Because now, years later, you’re standing in a Dallas apartment, the Texas sun bleeding in through half draped windows as Paige Bueckers, your Paige, tapes a moving box and tosses you a stack of bubble wrap like it’s a game.

And there it is.

A DVD box set, buried beneath a stack of old notebooks and framed photos, the corners worn from being packed and repacked over the years.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, crouching to pull it out. “Liv and Maddie.”

Paige looks up from the kitchen, cradling two mugs of coffee in her hands. “Throwback.”

You snort, flipping the case over to the back. “This show raised me. Literally.”

“Oh, you were one of those kids.”

“Obsessed,” you say, standing again and tossing the box set toward her gently. “Funny, you actually kind of remind me of Maddie.”

She catches it with one hand and raises a brow. “Maddie?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, a grin playing at your lips. “Blonde. Athletic. Wore number five. Loud. Dorky. Kind of a golden retriever in human form…”

Your words taper off, your grin fading just a little as your eyes lock with hers.

Because now you’re really looking at her. Paige in her blue UConn shirt, the one that still smells faintly like laundry detergent and gym air. Her hair’s a mess from unpacking. She’s barefoot and there’s a faint bruise on her hip from where she tripped over a shoebox earlier. She’s flushed from the heat and smiling like she knows something you don’t.

And suddenly, the coincidence doesn’t feel so silly anymore.

Because of course it makes sense. Of course your childhood crush was just a placeholder, a prototype. Some subconscious prelude to the girl who would actually steal your heart.

Paige tilts her head and sets the DVD down on the counter. She walks over slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

“So,” she murmurs, sliding her arms around your waist, “you’ve been simping for me way before UConn, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in her shoulder. “Don’t say simping. You just ruined it.”

She laughs, hands warm against your back. “No, no. Let’s unpack that.”

“Let’s not?”

“C’mon.”

You pull back slightly, resting your chin on her shoulder. “It’s kind of insane, isn’t it?”

“That I’m your real life Disney crush?” she teases, but her voice is soft, almost fond.

“That I somehow found you,” you say honestly. “I mean… you. Number five. Paige freaking Bueckers. And I didn’t even realize until now.”

Her smile falters just enough for vulnerability to peek through. “You didn’t fall in love with me because of a jersey number, right?”

You frown, cupping her cheek. “No. I fell in love with you because you’re you. The number’s just coincidence.”

She leans into your palm, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Okay, good. Because I was about to start accusing you of trapping me for your disney fantasies.”

You burst out laughing. “God, shut up.”

Paige kisses you. Soft and slow. The kind of kiss that makes you forget you're in the middle of a barely unpacked living room surrounded by cardboard and the faint smell of dust. The kind of kiss that reminds you why you moved across the country in the first place, why Dallas, why her, why this life.

She pulls back just enough to whisper, “You know my middle name is Madison, right?”

You blink. “Yeah.”

“Another coincidence?”

“No. Shut up. Shut up.”

“Paige Madison Bueckers.”

You stare at her like you’re trying to crack a conspiracy theory. “You’re telling me my childhood dream girl… blonde, dorky, competitive, wore number five, named Maddie… was just you in disguise?”

She grins. “Guess I’ve been in your head longer than you thought.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, stepping away from her just to pace. “This is messed up. Like, this is crazy.”

Paige flops onto the couch and stretches her arms over the back. “So what you’re saying is… you manifested me.”

“I must have. And I was so specific, too.”

“Down to the jersey number. Impressive.”

You laugh again, loud and gleeful as you walk over and straddle her lap, holding her face in both hands. “I didn’t know I had that kind of power.”

She looks up at you, eyes warm. “Well, now that you do… what are you gonna wish for next?”

You brush your thumb across her cheek. “That you never leave.”

Her expression softens. “Not going anywhere.”

You lean forward and press your forehead to hers. “Number five really did mean something.”

She smiles against your mouth. “Yeah. Me.”

Later that night, you watch an old episode of Liv and Maddie together.

It’s the one where Maddie scores the game winner and celebrates with that dorky little jump and grin, arms flailing and voice cracking. You laugh and turn to Paige, who’s curled up beside you, hoodie pulled over her mouth like she’s trying to hide how invested she is.

You nudge her. “You do look like her, you know.”

She groans. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do. Especially when you get all competitive and dramatic during games.”

“Okay, that I’ll own.”

You smirk. “And you both wear five.”

She glances sideways. “Still hung up on the number?”

You shake your head, smile growing tender. “No. Just grateful it led me to you.”

Paige kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then finally your lips. Slow, steady, like she’s sealing something sacred.

And later, when the apartment is quiet and the moonlight filters in through the windows, you fall asleep with her arm wrapped around your waist and the faint sound of a Disney laugh track playing in the background.

And maybe, just maybe, your first love and your last love were never different at all.

[beloveds-embrace]

Ask for the dukedom poly 141!

How did it started for all of them to get together? Any specific details? Who fell for whom first? Did it start as just sex? Is it still just sex? Or some kind of deep feelings? Some brutal men type of love wich could be soften with Reader's delicate tenderness? I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING! Please please please?

Part one

It started first with Kyle and John! They grew up together, and had all their firsts together despite the age difference because their fathers often worked together despite Kyle’s family being commoners, and by the time John became a Duke, Kyle had also befriended and slept with Johnny and was just finishing his own training- recently moved in from the neighbouring country an the attraction between them had been apparent from the very start.

Up until that point, Kyle and John hadn’t put a label on what they had; they just knew they loved the other, and slept together in more ways than one. Johnny and Kyle started out as just sex, but Johnny took his mother’s natural socialness and would still drag Kyle with him to the family bakery they’d opened up.

Johnny meets John through Kyle, and it’s that same spark of attraction once again- except Kyle joins them, obviously, too. That same spark and yet another thing that tastes just as sweet as the desserts Johnny makes and helps his parents sell.

Even now, they don’t put a label on it. They can’t, even if they wanted to. John is meant to marry a good woman who will give him an heir and they are commoners. It was never meant to be but they don’t care.

John then becomes a Duke, and as is tradition he enlists in the empire’s military to prove his loyalty and show his Dukedome’s strength. Right before he leaves, he hires both Kyle and Johnny. The night before he is set to leave is one they spend entirely awake.

It’s during his time in the military thag John meets fellow Duke Simon, whose attitude is cold and stoic yet no one can deny his strength. John is among the few who are unafraid or unbothered by his attitude.

Saving one another (John refuses to leave any man behind and Simon refuses to leave any debts unpaid), deep in the trenches and with so much tension and stress, a few fucks would honestly boost morale.

Except Simon doesn’t do anything half-assed and John is a sucker for this surly bastard and well. He knows Simon fits Kyle and Johnny’s types too.

Once he and Simon are finished with their mandatory enlisting, John takes up the rest of his duties and ignores the need for a wife even if rumors swirl. And just as he predicted, his men do get along very well. He’s happy with his men whom he loves (it took a while to accept that it was truly love, but it’s undeniable) and the last thing he wants to add into his house is a woman who would no doubt never accept this arrangement and who’d never respect Johnny and Kyle and would drag them all in trouble.

But he can’t push it off for too long, and even Kyle, Johnny, and Simon tell him they _understand_- Simon especially but thankfully most everyone is too scared of him to say anything- and that he should just do it.

That’s when you come in; sweet, precious you who don’t threaten them with anything when you find out, and who are nice to all of them even when John knows some newspapers have started calling you barren. Soft, precious you who John also accepts as his own, and he knows, just watching you interact with them, you are what would soften and sweeten this relationship more. You are perfect for them, and when he hears about Graves and you? John knows he can’t just sit back anymore.

[moonlitstoriess]

Until the End, and Even Then- Cassian x fem!reader(oneshot)

Summary: She stood beside him through centuries of war, loyalty carved into every scar. But when new faces arrived, his heart turned elsewhere, leaving hers to quietly break. In the end, she made the choice no one else could—and no one saw it coming.

Warnings: Angst, major character death, no happy ending, Cassian is attracted to Nesta, Cassian's realization hits too late

A/N: This is something that I'm writing from my own experience (minus the entire fantasy, death part of course lol) so to anyone who has also ever been forgotten by someone they once held so dear, I see you. You are one of a kind strong, trust me. <3

See masterlist

They had always been together.

From the moment she could remember--cold wind biting at her face, Illyrian mountains stretching far beyond her reach--Cassian had been there. Loud. Fierce. Covered in bruises and full of fire. He was her first friend, her first constant in a world that had never promised her anything.

Orphaned, half-starved, and unwanted--like so many others in the camps--they'd fought for food, for warmth, for scraps of attention from the males who treated them like dogs and broke them down worse. But while the other boys laughed at her, told her she didn't belong with a sword in her hand, Cassian had simply handed her a blade and said, "Then make them eat their words."

And so she did.

They trained in secret, often at night, after the others had collapsed from exhaustion. Y/N would wrap her fingers tighter around the hilt and mimic every movement he showed her, again and again, until the blisters burst. She bled, fell, got back up. Cassian never went easy on her. That was the closest thing to respect a female could earn in the mountains.

Years passed like that -- cold mornings, warm fires stolen behind supply tents, bruised knuckles, split lips and laughter that echoed across the frostbitten peaks. When Rhysand arrived, still a kid--half-smirk, half-chubby cheeks, already too pretty to belong in the war camps -- they'd eyed him with suspicion, but Cassian, somehow, had decided to trust him.

And where Cassian went, Y/N followed.

It wasn't long before they became something more than just orphans scraping by. Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and her. A strange little knot of survival. She wasn't one of the males, not really -- not to the others. But to them? She was part of the spine. The only female Illyrian to keep up, to carve her own place into the mud and stone of the war camps and not be broken by it.

She remembered when Mor came, golden and defiant and bleeding, and Y/N hated how much she wanted to protect her. It was Mor who told her she didn't have to prove anything to anyone. That being strong didn't mean being silent.

So she trained harder. Rose faster.

By the time Rhys became High Lord, Cassian was made Commander of the Night Court's armies. And Y/N? She earned her place among the elite aerial units -- flying over territories that once spat at her for daring to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with males. Now, she led them.

Still, even with a blade on her back and command in her voice, she always flew beside him. Always had.

There was a time -- she couldn't remember exactly when -- when looking at him had started to hurt in a different way. A quieter ache. A secret, steady bloom that rooted in her chest every time he laughed, or grinned at her like they still shared everything.

She never told him.

Not once.

Because how could you tell someone you'd loved them your entire life -- when they still looked at you like you were a part of their past, not their future?

There were memories she never spoke of. Ones she kept tucked away like old medals -- quiet, precious things no one else knew existed.

Like that time they snuck out of the camps, bloodied and aching after a brutal training day, to lie on the snow-packed cliff edge and count the stars. She remembered how Cassian had fallen asleep halfway through her retelling of an old Illyrian myth, his head tipped back, mouth parted, curls tangled by the wind. He looked so peaceful -- so young. She hadn't slept that night, just watched the stars fade into dawn beside him.

Or the way he always noticed when her hands were too scraped from sparring. He'd never say anything outright -- just grumble about her being "reckless as hell" while slipping a salve into her pocket and walking away before she could thank him.

He always called her trouble.

And when he said it, it didn't sound like an insult. It sounded like a secret.

There was the time he'd gotten hurt -- truly hurt, chest torn open after intercepting a blow meant for her -- and she sat beside his cot all night. Not as a soldier. Not even as a friend.

But as someone who hadn't known she was in love until she watched the rise and fall of his breath and realized it could stop.

There was one night she'd never let herself speak of.

Years ago, before Rhys was crowned, before any of them had titles or thrones or scars too deep to name, a storm had grounded them in a half-ruined outpost near the border. Rain lashed the mountain walls. The roof leaked. The fire barely stayed lit. But they were warm -- just the two of them -- wrapped in old cloaks, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the cramped barracks room, waiting out the storm.

Cassian had been quiet that night. Not tired. Just quiet in a way he rarely was. She remembered how he kept rubbing a spot just below his ribs--an injury he hadn’t told anyone about. Typical. Always throwing himself into danger first and thinking later.

So she made him let her look. Bandaged the wound. Muttered something about how even war generals could bleed like the rest of them. He didn’t smile. Not then.

But when she finished, he caught her hand--just held it. Calloused, warm, unmoving.

“If we weren’t always fighting,” he said softly, “do you think we’d know how to live?”

She hadn’t known what to say.

And maybe that’s why she never answered. Maybe that’s why she just held his hand in the dark, listening to the thunder, pretending--for a few heartbeats--that his words meant something more.

He fell asleep like that. Still holding her hand.

She never brought it up again. Neither did he.

But sometimes, in the middle of battle, or during those cold, endless nights in the skies, she’d feel that phantom pressure around her fingers and wonder--just once--if he ever remembered, too.

She remembered the late-night flying sessions they used to do just for the thrill of it. No missions, no reports -- just two fools in the sky, racing the wind and whooping like children. He once grabbed her hand mid-air and swung her into a dive with him, the two of them spiraling through the clouds, breathless with laughter.

"You and me, Y/N" he'd said afterwards, as they lay on their backs in the grass. "We're the best godsdamned pair in these skies."

And she'd believed him.

Still did.

Even when things began to change.

Even when the skies they flew together stopped feeling like freedom, and started feeling like goodbye.

Change didn't come with fire and thunder. It came quietly.

It started with Feyre, first brought into the Court of Dreams like a storm with a broken heart. Y/N liked her well enough. Strong, clever, endlessly curious. A fighter in her own right. Y/N admired that.

And she understood what it meant to carry the weight of trauma in your bones. To still wake up every night ready to fight ghosts no one else could see. So she didn't begrudge the attention Feyre received.

But then Nesta came.

And something in Cassian changed.

Y/N remembered the day Nesta was Made -- turned into High Fae by the Cauldron, wrath and ruin forged into a body that hadn't asked for it. She remembered the moment she saw her for the first time -- standing still, face cold, rage sharp enough to slice the air in half.

Cassian was already staring.

Y/N told herself it was concern. Shock. Empathy, maybe. Cassian had always protected those who couldn't protect themselves.

But day after day, month after month, mission after mission...his attention drifted. And not just his eyes. His words, his silences, his moods -- they all began to orbit Nesta inch by inch.

It wasn't that he stopped caring about Y/N. He still trained with her, still sparred, still flew beside her in perfect formation. He still laughed with her after patrols and still called her trouble.

But he wasn't with her anymore.

Not really.

She never told him.

Never interrupted the way his eyes lingered when Nesta left a room. Never stopped him from glancing over his shoulder when Nesta passed them in the training ring.

She smiled through it all.

Because if she didn't -- if she let it show -- what would be left of her that wasn't just pain?

So she kept fighting.

Kept flying.

Kept waiting for the ache to fade.

And it never did.

It started with little things.

"Do you think she likes strong tea or sweet?" he asked one morning, halfway through tying his hair. Y/N had blinked at him, momentarily forgetting they were prepping for a reconnaissance flight. "Nesta," he added, not noticing the way she stiffened.

"I...don't know," she said after a pause. "Maybe both. Depends on the day."

He grinned, as if that answer was charming, then returned to his blade, humming some tune under his breath.

That was the first time he asked. But not the last.

There were days he sought her out for strategy, only to pivot the conversation into "Nesta didn't eat again today," or "I think she likes books about romance -- should I bring her one?"

Y/N gave him advice. Every time.

What else could she do?

Because if she pulled back, even a little -- if she stopped listening -- she was afraid he'd stop coming to her altogether.

One night, after a particularly grueling training session with new recruits, he sat beside her on the wall overlooking the mountains.

"She's colder than the northern ridge," he muttered, tossing a rock over the ledge. "But she burns under it all, I can feel it."

Y/N didn't speak.

Cassian leaned his head back. "You'd like her more if you talked to her. She's not as awful as she seems."

"I never said she was awful."

"No, but..." He turned toward her with that boyish, lopsided grin that used to be only hers. "You don't really give her much of a chance. Why?"

Y/N exhaled through her nose and said nothing.

Cassian leaned forward again, elbows on knees. "I just want to get through to her. Make her see she's not alone in this court."

Y/N's throat tightened. She almost laughed. Almost said, I've been here beside you longer than she's even known your name.

But she didn't.

Instead, she placed her hand on his shoulder and murmured, "You'll find a way. You always do."

Then came the first time she saw them together.

She hadn't meant to stumble upon them -- just returning from dinner and a flight, windburned and half-drenched from a sudden storm, walking through the garden to dry her wings before heading in.

And there they were.

Cassian and Nesta under one of the arches, their faces close, the moonlight casting silver over his siphons and her hair. He said something -- something that made Nesta snort softly and shake her head -- and then he smiled.

Not the loud, showy one he gave to the world.

The soft one.

The rare one.

The one he used to give to her.

Y/N backed away before they saw her. She told herself she didn't care. That she was only tired.

But that night, she flew above the cliffs until her wings ached, just to make sure the wind drowned out the sound of her heart breaking.

She didn't plan on going to Rhysand that day.

But something in her had cracked. Maybe it was watching Cassian walk Nesta back from training as they laughed at something she didn't hear. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, that distant softness he only seemed to carry now when Nesta was around. Or maybe it was just the silence -- how she could be beside him and still feel a thousand miles away.

So she went.

Stormed into the Townhouse, boots echoing down the hall as she made her way to Rhysand's study.

He looked up the moment she entered, unsurprised by her presence but visibly taken aback by the sharpness in her eyes.

"Y/N," he greeted. Calm, careful. "Is something wrong?"

"I want a mission," she said. Flatly. No preamble.

Rhys raised a brow. "A mission?"

"You send everyone else. Spies, scouts, diplomats, Azriel, Mor. I'm not asking for a vacation, Rhys. I need to do something." Her hands were clenched at her sides. She hated how desperate she sounded.

He studied her for a long moment. "No."

She blinked. "What?"

"I said no," he repeated, voice still gentle.

Her jaw tightened. "Why? I've led aerial units. I've fought in more skirmishes than half your court. Don't give me that protective bullshit, Rhys. If this is about Cassian- "

"It's not," he said, standing slowly. "It's not about your skill or record. It's not about Cassian or anyone else."

"Then what is it?" she demanded, the frustration curling in her chest like flame. Rhys's expression shifted then--softer, but heavier. Like a burden he didn't want to speak aloud.

"Because war is coming," he said quietly. "Hybern's army is preparing to move. We received confirmation yesterday."

Y/N went still.

"I'm not sending anyone on a mission anymore," Rhys continued. "Not unless they're tied directly to the front lines and critical strategy. I can't afford to scatter my forces now. We're weeks -- maybe days -- away from open conflict."

She felt like the floor dropped from beneath her.

War.

She hadn't realized it was that close.

Her throat bobbed. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"I was going to," Rhys said. "Soon. Cassian and Azriel are already working through the first phase of deployment. You would've been briefed tomorrow."

Y/N stared at him. Her mind spun, trying to process it all -- the sudden shift from emotional wreckage to impending destruction.

Rhys stepped closer, voice lower now. "I know you've been feeling...out of place. But don't take yourself out of the fight just because you're hurting."

Her mouth parted. He knew.

Of course he did.

Rhysand saw everything.

She turned to go, forcing herself to keep her spine straight. To ignore the pounding in her chest.

"Y/N," he said, as she reached the door.

She paused.

"You're not invisible," he said gently. "Not to all of us."

She didn't look back.

She didn't trust herself to.

If only she knew that this was the beginning of her end.

The war room was colder than usual.

Maps sprawled across the obsidian table, dotted with tokens, notes, and tiny carved markers of armies not yet moved. Rhysand stood at the head of the room beside Feyre, both of them grave and steady, their bond humming like quiet lightning between them. Azriel lingered in the shadows. Mor and Amren leaned over the map with creases between their brows.

And Cassian -- he stood near Nesta.

Close.

Too close.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the layout of Hybern’s front lines, her hands clasped behind her back to keep them from shaking. She listened to the breakdown of units, flight formations, ground forces. She took note of her assignment. She would lead the flank--high altitude, fast and quiet--sweeping in with her unit from the eastern pass at Rhys’s signal.

No one questioned her role. No one doubted her capability.

And still, when Cassian spoke, when he gave orders or reassurances to the other commanders, he never once looked at her.

Not once.

Near the end of the meeting, Feyre mentioned the civilians being evacuated from a nearby village -- how their movement might delay her forces by half a day. Nesta murmured something about keeping an eye on the terrain, something sharp and practical.

Cassian chuckled softly.

“That’s my girl,” he said.

And that was it.

Y/N didn’t remember the rest of the meeting. Only the roaring in her ears.

"I need to speak with you," Y/N snapped, grabbing Cassian's arm as he exited the chamber.

He gave her a look -- flat, unreadable. But he followed.

The room she chose was small and unused, tucked off a quiet hallway of the House of Wind. As soon as the door shut, the silence snapped between them.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

Cassian blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she hissed. "You've barely looked at me for days. You act like I'm a stranger -- like I don't exist. But the second she speaks- "

He cut her off. "Don't do this, Y/N."

"No, you don't get to do this," she said, voice cracking. "I have stood by your side through every godsdamned war, every loss, every scar. And now- now I'm just what? A name on your flight charts?"

He shook his head. "This isn't the time."

"Then when is it?" she snapped. "After one of us dies tomorrow? After you tell her 'that's my girl' again in front of everyone like the rest of us don't matter?"

Cassian's jaw clenched. "She is my girl."

The silence that followed nearly dropped her to her knees. "I know," she whispered. "Believe me--I know."

But he wasn't done.

"You act like I've betrayed you. I didn't make you stay beside me all these years. I didn't ask you to be anything more than a soldier. If you wanted more, Y/N...you should've said something about your position a long time ago. Don't take it out in jealousy now."

Her breath caught. Like a punch to the gut.

A soldier.

That's all she was to him. All this time, that's all he saw her as.

He thought she was complaining about her title, about her position in the court. About Nesta 'outshining' her.

Gods, how stupid is he. How....how little has she truly known of him.

"Would it have mattered?" she asked quietly. "If...if I had done something?"

One question. Two different meanings.

Y/N knew he didn't get the meaning she wanted him to get.

But she asked him anyway.

Cassian hesitated.

And that was her answer.

He turned to leave, hand on the doorknob.

"I'm sorry," he said over his shoulder. "But don't bring this into battle. We all have our roles. Focus on yours."

The door shut behind him before she could speak.

The air was cold behind the tents.

Y/N had gone out to clear her head before the final camp briefing. Before dawn. Before it all began.

She'd only wanted a moment. But instead, she saw them.

Cassian leaning in, murmuring something to Nesta. Her hand curled in his. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then drew her close, his brow resting lightly against hers.

Y/N looked away.

The next morning, Rhys gave his speech--strong, steady, a High Lord ready to lead his court into fire.

They all embraced one another. Azriel clasped her shoulder. Mor hugged her tight. Feyre gave her a quiet, grateful smile.

Cassian didn't speak to her. She didn't look at him. No goodbyes. No glances.

Not even when they split off in separate directions, wings unfurling into a sky that might not welcome them back.

The battlefield was a storm.

Wings filled the sky, blotting out the sun. Screams tore through the clouds--Illyrian war cries, magic surging through the air like lightning. The earth shook beneath their boots. Blades clashed, smoke rose, and still, the tide of Hybern forces surged forward.

Y/N’s hands were soaked in blood--hers, others, she didn’t know anymore. Her wings burned with exhaustion, her chest heaved. But she didn’t stop.

Couldn’t.

She spotted Cassian midair, diving through a wave of soldiers.

Alive. He was alive.

She'd done her part. Led the eastern flank. Cleared the path. Reinforced Azriel's squad. She was ready to die for it. But not like this.

Not like this.

And then-- A pulse. Magic.

Wrong magic.

It throbbed through the air like a heartbeat from something long dead and newly reawakened. She felt it in her bones, in the marrow of her wings. Not just power--unmaking. A rift tearing open the weave of the world itself.

Her head snapped toward the Cauldron, still half-shrouded in smoke and blood and broken stone. It was pulsing--no, breathing. Swollen with ancient energy, black and slick and endless. She saw the last of the Hybern priests retreating, their mouths twisted in triumph, even as they fled.

The wards around the Cauldron had fallen. No one had noticed. Until now.

And the spell--gods, that spell. She could see it. Magic coiling around it, forming jagged patterns in the sky, drawn in impossible runes of blood and bone and sacrifice. It wasn’t just a weapon.

It was a curse.

A final death sentence. A wave of devastation meant to devour the battlefield in one last scream of ruin. No one would survive it—not Rhys, not Feyre, not Azriel or Mor, not Cassian or Nesta.

Not even the Cauldron itself.

One final blow to level the world before falling into silence.

She didn’t wait. Didn’t think. Didn’t call for help or backup or approval. There wasn’t time.

So she moved.

Her blade was slick in her grip as she surged forward, slashing through the two Hybern soldiers guarding the outer ring of magic. They fell without sound. Her wings snapped wide, catching what lift the broken air could still give her, and she launched.

The Cauldron loomed before her now--closer than it had ever been. It wasn’t just an object. It was a force, ancient and alive, and it saw her coming. The runes flared, the spell reacted, but she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop.

Because something inside her--deep and quiet and final--had already decided.

It was always going to end this way.

She let her power rise, the last of it. Poured it into her limbs, her wings, her lungs. Not to fight—no, she wasn’t strong enough to undo the curse. But she could interrupt it. She could anchor it. Draw it into herself.

And by doing so, burn with it. It would hurt. She knew that. It would be agony. But pain wasn’t new. Dying wasn’t what she feared.

Being forgotten--that was what had always terrified her.

But now?

Now, there was no one left to remember her the way she wanted.

So she embraced the storm.

He felt it before he saw her.

A sharp shift in the wind. A scream in his chest he hadn’t yet released. And then--

Y/N.

Running. Flying. Toward the Cauldron.

“No,” he breathed. “No -- NO!”

He dove. Wings burning from overuse, pushing harder, faster. Screaming her name.

“Y/N!”

She didn’t look back. Not at first.

But right before she reached the Cauldron’s circle--where the magic cracked the earth, splitting stone and sky--she turned.

Just once. Her eyes met his.

And she smiled.

Not bitter. Not sad. Just… soft. Steady. Peaceful.

A thousand memories flooded her mind in that final second.

Cassian holding her hand in the barracks. Cassian teaching her to fly. Cassian laughing, bloodied and breathless, after a spar. Cassian saying, "You and me, Y/N--we’re the best godsdamned pair in these skies."

And then--

She threw herself into the light.

“Y/N!” he roared, his wings tearing at the air, throwing himself toward her like he could still reach her in time, still pull her back, still undo what had already been set in motion.

Nesta called after him, grabbed for his arm, but he wrenched away.

Too late.

A flash of light erupted--searing white, violent silver, threads of raw blue magic exploding outward in a perfect ring.

The sound tore across the battlefield like thunder cracking the world open.

Cassian hit the ground--hard. His knees buckled beneath him. His wings collapsed. He screamed her name again, but it was lost in the storm.

The Cauldron imploded.

Folded in on itself in a pulse of ancient power, taking everything with it. The runes dissolved. The curse shattered.

And when the light cleared--

There was nothing.

No body. No wings. No sound.

Only the faint shimmer of magic still curling in the breeze--burning out, like embers trying to hold onto their last breath.

Cassian stared, chest heaving. Blood on his hands. Dirt in his mouth. The place where she’d stood moments ago was empty.

The world went silent. And he knew--without needing to be told.

She was gone.

The war was won. The Cauldron lay in ruins--shattered, unmade, its dark power turned to dust beneath the morning sun.

But Cassian didn’t move. Didn’t celebrate. Didn’t speak.

He stood where she had fallen, on blackened earth that still hissed with dying magic. Smoke curled in the wind. Bodies lay silent. Somewhere behind him, Rhys was giving orders. Feyre was healing soldiers. Nesta… Nesta was calling his name.

But he didn’t turn.

His hands were filthy. Shaking. Bloodied from clawing at rubble, from searching--gods, from hoping.

And then--buried beneath a patch of scorched soil and ash--he found it.

A small, warped flight pendant. The one he’d given her years ago. A joke, at the time. “You’ll be the death of me,” he’d said when she outpaced him mid-air. “But you’ll look good doing it.”

Now it was half-melted, the chain snapped. The ribbon she’d tied it with--red, like the ribbon she once wore in her hair--burned to nearly nothing.

Cassian fell to his knees.

His fingers trembled as he turned the pendant over.

There--etched faintly into the back, almost missed beneath the grime--was a message.

“If I die, let him know I did it with love.”

His breath broke. Not a gasp. Not a sob.

It was silence cracking.

Because she had never told him. Never once said the words. And now they were carved into metal--buried, hidden, meant to be found only after it was too late.

Cassian bowed his head, pressing the pendant to his forehead as the wind howled around him. His voice was hoarse, empty, barely audible when he whispered,

“You were never supposed to go without knowing. Gods, you were never supposed to go.”

The battlefield blurred.

“You flew beside me in every war. And I never saw you falling.”

And in the Wind…

A breeze swept through the field, warm despite the ash.

And if Cassian had looked up just then, he might’ve seen a glimmer in the sky--something like a wingbeat. Something like a goodbye.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[theskywithin]

The Part of You That Keeps Coming Back in Every Relationship

Chiron in Aries

You keep choosing people who make you feel like a race. Something fast. Something loud. Something you have to win before it disappears again. You’ve confused urgency with love because nobody ever stayed long enough to teach you the difference. They fell in love with your spark but never asked what it costs you to keep burning. So you rush toward closeness. You show up quickly. You say yes before you even know what you need. Because somewhere in you, there’s still a child who thought that to be chosen meant to arrive first. To be louder. Stronger. Faster. To make sure no one ever passed you by again. But what if love isn’t a finish line? What if it’s a quiet room and someone waiting inside who won’t leave when you finally stop running?

Chiron in Taurus

You wait by doors long after they’ve been closed. You hold on like love is something you owe to time, to memory, to the version of yourself that once felt safe in their hands. You don’t call it fear. You call it loyalty. You call it knowing how to stay. But deep down, you know there’s a difference between being devoted and being afraid to move. You were taught that if you lose something, you have to mourn it forever or risk being called ungrateful. So you hold. You hold people, patterns, promises, even when your hands are blistered. Even when it’s costing you the softness you were born with. But not everything that ends is a betrayal. Not everything that leaves is a loss. And not every silence means you were forgotten. You are allowed to loosen your grip. To choose peace over permanence. To walk away without apologizing for the way your heart finally opened its fists.

Chiron in Gemini

You say a lot. But you rarely say what you mean. Not because you’re hiding, but because you’ve lived inside your head for so long you’re not sure what’s real until someone answers back. You learned early that connection lives in conversation, so you kept talking. Even when the silence was begging to be heard. You narrate your pain like a story with no ending, hoping someone will interrupt you just to say, “I’ve felt that too.” You want to be heard, but not just for your thoughts, for your tremble. For the part of you that doesn’t know how to be eloquent when the truth shows up shaking. You want to be listened to even when you don’t make sense. Even when you go quiet mid-sentence because something in you suddenly remembers that no one ever stayed when your voice got soft. But connection doesn’t come from being articulate. It comes from being real. And the people who are meant for you will read between the pauses and stay for the parts you never learned how to say out loud.

Chiron in Cancer

You’ve always known how to make others feel safe. You know when to offer silence. You know where it hurts without being told. You know how to pour your heart into theirs and leave yours untouched. You call it love. But sometimes it’s just the ache of not knowing how to ask for the same in return. You carry people like they’re fragile and you never tell them that you are too. You think if you’re strong enough, gentle enough, invisible enough, they’ll stay. You learned that needing was dangerous, that the moment you reached for something, it could be used against you or taken away. So now, you give and give, hoping someone will notice the hunger in your hands without you having to say it aloud. But love isn’t earned in silence. It doesn’t only belong to the ones who arrive whole. You are allowed to fall apart in front of someone and still be held. You are allowed to be kept, even when your softness feels like a risk.

Chiron in Leo

You’ve made joy your offering. You bring light into every room and pretend it doesn’t dim you. You laugh loudly. You speak beautifully. You give more than you have just to make sure no one leaves with less. And when they do leave, you wonder if maybe you should’ve glowed brighter. You’ve learned to become unforgettable because being overlooked once felt like vanishing. So you perform. Not for applause, but for proof. That you mattered. That you were worth remembering. That someone saw you before you gave them a reason to. But love isn’t earned in volume. It’s not handed to the most radiant. It’s found in the quiet afterward, when your hands are empty, your heart is tired, and someone reaches for you anyway. You are not a spark to be used. You are not a sun to orbit. You are a whole sky. And you deserve the kind of love that stays, even when the light goes out.

Chiron in Virgo

You are always editing yourself. You notice the things others don’t. A word misplaced. A glance too long. The way silence lingers after you speak. You read people like instruction manuals, and wonder why no one does the same for you. You offer help before they ask, clean up what no one saw fall. You make yourself easier to love by making yourself smaller to need. You’ve learned that being useful is safer than being open. That being essential is the next best thing to being wanted. But closeness isn’t a reward. You don’t have to earn rest by stitching everyone else’s wounds first. The people who are meant for you won’t keep a ledger. They’ll sit in the room you’ve tried to organize into worthiness and say: You don’t have to do anything. I already see you.

Chiron in Libra

You’ve become so good at becoming who they need that you’ve forgotten who you were before they asked. You read the room like a script, pause where it pleases, smile where it softens. You keep peace like a secret, fragile, heavy, and never yours to keep. You call it love. But sometimes it’s just the fear of being left if you ever stopped being easy to hold. You want connection, deeply. Desperately. But you’ve spent a lifetime offering the watered-down version of yourself because you’re afraid the full one might be too complicated to keep. You’ve been chosen for your light, your ease, your grace, but what you crave is to be chosen when you’re messy. When you’re quiet. When you finally say no. Real love doesn’t flinch when you disagree. It doesn’t vanish when you stop performing. It stays, even when your reflection does not.

Chiron in Scorpio

You want someone to see you. But you don’t make it easy. You hand them clues, watch how gently they hold them, then pull back the moment they get too close. Because once, you let someone in and they didn’t stay. They saw your softness, your shadow, your truth before it had time to dress itself and they left anyway. Now you love like a secret. Intense. Unspoken. Full of meaning, but never a map. You long for intimacy but only the kind that doesn’t ask you to explain why you’re shaking. You say you trust slowly. But what you mean is: I’m still carrying what they dropped when I finally handed them my heart. But not everyone wants to hurt you. Not everyone will leave when you reveal the parts you usually bury. The right ones will stay at the threshold until you’re ready to open the door and they won’t ask you to be anything but exactly as you are on the other side.

Chiron in Sagittarius

You keep one foot out the door even when you want to stay. You say you love the open road, the unscripted moments, the freedom, but sometimes, freedom is just what you’ve learned to call the space you create before someone else takes it from you. You leave before you can be left. You joke when the conversation gets too close. You make meaning feel like a game so no one sees how badly you want to be known. It’s not fear of love. It’s fear of the weight love brings, the way it roots you, names you, asks you to belong somewhere long enough to be missed. You long for connection that doesn’t cost you your wings. But closeness doesn’t mean confinement. And being seen doesn’t mean being captured. The right ones won’t put a leash on your spirit. They’ll walk beside it. And still make you feel like you’ve never been more free.

Chiron in Capricorn

You show up holding more than anyone knows. You carry the silence. The weight. The work. You call it responsibility, but deep down, it’s the belief that love comes after you've proven your value. You were never handed softness. So you built yourself out of stone, reliable, composed, safe for everyone but yourself. You say you don’t need much. But that’s a lie you learned to survive. You pour effort into everything, because somewhere along the way, someone taught you that ease meant laziness and softness meant weakness and being needed was the closest thing to being kept. But love doesn’t wait until you're finished. It doesn’t ask for your résumé. It doesn’t care how much you’ve carried. The ones meant for you will see the cracks in your strength and call them beautiful. Not because you broke, but because you let someone see where it hurt.

Chiron in Aquarius

You stand at the edge of every room, watching the way people reach for each other, wondering when someone will notice you’ve never quite learned how to stay. You love from afar, not because you don’t feel deeply, but because closeness has always asked you to become something you’re not. You learned that blending in meant safety. That being understood meant compromise. So now, you speak in riddles, leave before they ask questions, and hope someone can love you without needing to hold you. You’ve taught yourself that being misunderstood is better than being swallowed. That disappearing on your own terms hurts less than being forgotten. But love doesn’t always require explanation. Sometimes, it just asks for presence. You don’t have to leave to be free. And you don’t have to isolate to be whole. The ones meant for you will sit beside the quiet in you and never ask it to speak, only to stay.

Chiron in Pisces

You love like fog, gentle, all-encompassing, and barely there. You become what they need so you never have to ask for what you do. You disappear in the name of closeness. You soften your edges until no one knows where they end and you begin. You call it compassion. But sometimes it’s just fear that if you show up fully, they might leave for something quieter. You’ve mistaken sacrifice for safety. You’ve believed that love means letting go of yourself just enough to be wanted, but not so much that you vanish entirely. But love that requires your disappearance is not love. It is longing dressed as devotion. It is erasure wrapped in grace. You don’t have to disappear to be held. You don’t have to hurt to be holy. You are allowed to stay, exactly as you are, and still be chosen.

[changeling-droneco]

Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

[sleepyvib-es]

Percy Jackson is a highly empathetic and compassionate character who shows kindness and loyalty to all kinds of people no matter what their background or story is. It didn't matter if they were mortals, immortals, gods, demigods, titans or monsters. He has shown kindness, compassion and loyalty to:

Tyson (his half brother, a cyclops, who he protected from bullies before and after knowing what he was. yes he faltered once but that was more of him feeling bad that he was once again the odd one at camp. he made up for his negative feelings about tyson being his brother by continuously saving him, standing up for him and finally recognizing him his brother. Percy believes so much in Tyson.)

Grover (his best friend, who he protected from bullies before finding out grover is a satyr sent to protect him. he defended grover vs the council of cloven elders, when they labeled grover as a liar regarding his news of Pan)

Rachel (his first mortal friend, who's bravery he admires. His thoughts about Rachel are very positive and he is constantly impressed by her. He has voiced out his respect for her on many occasions.)

Briares (ancient Hundred-Handed One, who was set free from his prison by Percy and his friends. He was abused and so afraid to the point where he wanted to fade like his brothers but ultimately saved chb b/c he was inspired by Tyson's faith in him. and who showed Tyson how to be brave and stick up for those in need? Percy.)

Blackjack (a pegasus who he saved from luke's ship and was so grateful to percy for it that he's always offering percy his help)

Mrs. O Leary (he adopted a literal hellhound for a pet and is fiercely protective of her. he once hesitated to kill hellhounds in TLO b/c they reminded him of mrs. o leary)

Cerberus (literally tells Hades "it wouldn't hurt to play with cerberus once in a while. he likes red rubber balls")

Bessie the Ophiotaurus (sea creature with the potential to destroy the gods but who percy advocated for in front of the 12 Olympians and asked them to save Bessie b/c you shouldn't kill an innocent creature on the basis that they might or might not destroy you)

Other sea creatures (he would lose hours of sleep doing rescue missions)

The river naiad from Geryon's ranch. He literally says he didn't want to be that kind of guy that puts his weight on being the son of Poseidon to get what he wants. He saw that she was scared and was only putting on a brave front to protect her ecosystem. She is one of the reasons why we have Percy embracing what it means to be a son of the sea god - the sea is within him.

He showed her compassion and in turn she tells him a secret. She showed him a way to save his friends.

Calypso (an immortal titanness punished for siding with her father Atlas and the other Titans. He felt extremely bad for Calypso, told her that it wasn't fair that she got punished for siding with her family and asked her how he could help free her. He couldn't stay in Ogygia but he did directly ask Zeus to release her. He also planted the moonshine plant she gave him like she asked "build a garden for me in Manhattan." He remembered her.)

Zoe Nightshade (hunter of Artemis. They had mutual respect after seeing a different side of each other.)

As soon as he figured out it was Hercules who had abandoned Zoe, he threw out his lion-skin cloak, which had been very helpful in keeping him safe from harm. He proceeded to trust Zoe and her judgement and he mourned her death. He actually didn't want to accept that she was dying at first, asking the others to give her more nectar and ambrosia and asking Artemis if she could heal her with magic.

Thalia Grace (the first person to hold her when she was resurrected, who yelled at the other campers to help her and to get her nectar and ambrosia.) For all the times they fought, he also felt protective of her:

Percy put his pride aside to beg Mr. D for help because he looked at Thalia and decided he didn't want to put her in a position where she would die to protect her friends again. Because how could he let that happen to her? He won't.

Clarisse La Rue (felt sympathy for her despite being bullied by her when he first got to camp b/c he recognized what kind of dad Ares was to Clarisse. He gave her the golden fleece, trusting her to complete the quest and save camp:

This even impresses Annabeth. Percy genuinely liked seeing Clarisse happy. He smiled when he noticed her and Chris Rodriguez hold hands at the end of botl.

Artemis (took the sky for her, which they both knew would have killed him, so that Artemis could help Zoe fight Atlas. In turn she vouched for Percy and Thalia when the gods voted on whether they were too dangerous to be kept alive)

Bianca di Angelo (he felt bad for the di angelos. they were taken out of the casino, hunted by monsters and soon after discovering that they were demigods bianca was asked to join the hunt. That is A LOT to process. Percy was the only one who asked her to consider other options before joining the hunters. He also reminded her that her brother couldn't go with her.)

He later was the first to voice out his support as long as she was happy and placed himself in her shoes to better understand where she was coming from:

Percy is the only one who saw Bianca's decision to join the hunters from both her and her brother's perspective. After asking her to consider her options and expressing initial disappointment at her decision, he adjusted his way of thinking and directly asked her how she was doing. How was she settling in with the hunters? How was her life with Nico prior to being discovered? He understood where both siblings were coming from and he tried to comfort and reassure them both (Nico at camp during capture the flag and Bianca during their quest.)

Ethan Nakamura (they were forced to fight to the death in the arena and while Ethan was trying to kill him, Percy only knocked him down and told him to run when he saw an opening. He later asked Ethan to come back with him but he refused. Percy's choice to not kill Ethan and letting him go literally led to Kronos rising b/c Ethan pledged himself to the titan lord right afterwards. Ethan was also the one who figured out Percy's vulnerable spot. He would have killed Percy had Annabeth not taken that knife for him. Percy, even after feeling "betrayed" by Ethan, STILL remembered and considered him when turning down immortality and literally asked for the minor gods to be given recognition - which was what Ethan wanted for Nemesis - and for the gods and demigods who sided with Kronos to be forgiven. Ethan also got his own shroud:

Nico di Angelo. Yes, Nico. Percy spent six months looking for Nico after he disappeared at the end of ttc when percy broke the news to him about Bianca with the goal of wanting to make things right with him. In the labyrinth, he said he felt Nico was close and he ran towards his direction, leaving annabeth grover and tyson running to catch up with him. Nico was double crossed by the owner of the ranch, Geryon ("you should've made me swear on the river styx") and got taken as prisoner to give to Luke Castellan later. It was Percy who bartered for his release:

Percy and his friends were free to go! What does Percy do instead? He makes Geryon a deal to make sure that Nico got out safely.

Also, I find it kinda interesting that Rick Riordan went the "percy talks shit about nico behind his back" route in HOO because this is Percy talking about Nico when he's not there in the og series:

Percy Jackson told the Queen of the Gods that she only cared about her perfect family, not real people, because she didn't secure Nico's safety passage through the ranch. Percy and Annabeth both made a bad impression with Hera because they disliked her attitude towards Nico di Angelo (there's more complexities to this scene but again I won't dive into them).

Percy also literally prayed to Poseidon to help him with Nico:

More of Percy caring about both Nico and Bianca di Angelo:

He claimed the prophecy so that Nico wouldn't have to. To save Nico from more suffering. He hid Nico's parentage from Chiron and the rest of camp because he wanted to prioritize his safety.

More on Percy having compassion towards Nico:

He told Nico that he could come with them on their quest, even if dangerous, because he didn't want to leave him behind. Nico refused. He asked Nico to stay at camp and even told him he could sit with him and Tyson at the Poseidon table (which is against the rules). Again, Nico told him no and instead said he needed to find out more about his past. Percy told Nico to keep in touch. At the end of the book, Percy invites Nico in for blue birthday cake b/c he felt bad that Nico had probably never been invited to a birthday party before.

Percy is later rewarded for what he did for Nico. Nico tells Percy that he found a way to help percy survive against Luke/Kronos as a way to thank him for what Percy did for him in Geryon's ranch (we later find out it's also because nico was crushing on percy but I won't get into that).

Another scene to add to the Percy Jackson Caring About Nico di Angelo list:

Hades had quite literally planned to imprison Percy in the Underworld a few chapters before this. For as much as Percy's trust in Nico wavered after that, he STILL found it in his heart to mention Hades and Nico by name in front of the other gods, requesting that they have a place at camp. Wishing for them to not be left out. Imagine that? Zeus was the one who killed Maria di Angelo, who nearly killed Nico and Bianca di Angelo had it not been for Hades. And Percy still rejected his offer of immortality and included Hades and Nico in his wish. Here was Percy, who offended the gods by rejecting immortality and by making them swear on the river styx to do good on their oaths, who had demanded a lot from them already, asking for Nico and Hades to be recognized after being cast aside and ignored by the gods.

Even his own dad, Poseidon, told Percy that he asked for too much. He did it for them. The forgotten, the unloved, the side lined demigods and minor gods and "peaceful titans" that sided with Kronos. Because that is who Percy is. Empathetic, compassionate, kind.

Chiron. Even the immortal mentor of heroes. Percy helped clear his name when he got accused of poisoning Thalia's tree (by tricking Luke into confessing via Iris Message)

Charles Beckendorf (one of his first real friend at camp besides annabeth and grover. Besides Percy and Nico, Beckendorf was the only one who Mrs. O Leary trusted enough to get close to her at chb. Percy thought of him when turning down immortality)

Silena Beauregard (felt angry on her behalf every time he saw how she looked grieving charlie. he never once told anyone she was the spy and thought of her when he made his wish at the end of tlo)

There are many others Percy is seen showing kindness and compassion towards, including HoO (that i won't get into because percy's character becomes less himself rip character assassination) and crossovers (Magnus Chase, Carter and Sadie Kane) but this is already long so I'll end it with this:

Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang. Two Roman demigods who started at the bottom of the legion. Percy saw two underdogs and went "they're under my protection now." He even promised Hazel that Thanatos wouldn't take her back without a fight. Even after Percy got his memories back he never once cared about greek vs roman beef. These are his friends, his people.

Percy Jackson is usually awarded for his loyalty and compassion (see: Blackjack, Rachel, the river naiad, Nico) and sometimes it gets him nearly killed (see: Ethan Nakamura and his achilles spot, Nico both walking him into a trap because he trusted him and later saving him). He doesn't usually ask for anything in return.

In Rachel's case, he asked for her help in the Labyrinth because they needed a clear sighted mortal to lead them, but he emphasized how dangerous it would be and that rachel didn't have to do it. He also apologized to her for getting her involved and reassured her when she felt bad that she seemed to have led them to a trap even though she was sure that was the path they needed to go. Percy could have died but he never held that against her ("Don't feel bad, I'm usually about to die"). His faith in Rachel never wavered.

In Nico's case, he asked him to convince his dad Hades to join the fight and to lead the the seven to the doors of death (a task that he only trusted Nico with to successfully lead).

Percy Jackson inspires loyalty for good reason. He considers people, he sees them, understands them, encourages them and he either helps them or he lets them make their own choices (which he learned from Sally Jackson - "if my life has to mean anything I have to live it myself"). They are made better for it. Percy is made better for it.

His first instinct is always to fight for those who can't or don't have anybody else to stand up for them. You don't have to prove your worth because to percy, you already are worth it.

He is either "I love you so I will help you" or "I love you so I will let you go" and to him it does not matter who or what you are.

[evilherehotel]

one is a very interesting character to me. with most of the lore still up in the air as of the time this is written, it's hard to be sure who exactly she is; or, who she was. today, i want to take a closer look at what we have her character and try to figure out what that "was" could've looked like.

first, i'll start with what we know.

above all else, one is controlling. whether that be in a literal sense, when one influences the world and events around her, or in an emotional sense, when it comes to manipulating others in order to get them to agree to her deals.

in tpot 13, she tells basketball that something they have in common is not liking when things don't go their way. this makes sense for one; every little thing she does is planned, prepared, controlled. she knows the steps people will take before they even take them, she knows every move she needs to make to get under people's skin, and she knows how to make everything go according to plan.

but what about when it doesn't?

in tpot 17, it's as though that control slips. things don't go her way. she isn't nearly as put-together, nor is she calculative or patient enough to even try putting up her persona and coaxing donut in the same way she has with her other signatories. her room seems to reflect her state of mind, scattered and disorganized. she's not stable enough to think of a way to convince him, or even think to hold him down, and her lack of control in the situation gives donut more free will, the ability to reject her deal, and, more importantly, the ability to fight back.

this act is something so spontaneous, so unpredictable, that it causes one to snap and immediately try to grab this control back. she becomes blinded by rage and attacks him, yet her scare tactic only shows more of her weakness: one can't handle feeling powerless.

although she's stronger than donut and was more than willing to show him that, her behavior also seems to stem from a point of insecurity. being disobeyed, treated not as an all-powerful being but instead an equal - or even a lesser - is her breaking point. obviously anybody would be mad over getting kicked, but it's clear something deeper must've been triggered in one in order to get her that manically angry.

where did this need for control come from? how does this tie into her past?

to know this, we should first look at another key detail of her character: her deals.

on first glance, one's signatories don't have much in common. they're easy targets, people with weaknesses that one can easily find and exploit, with not much other correlation. but upon closer inspection, a pattern makes itself clear in every single person that one took into her room.

when fanny joined death pact again, she was taught to abandon her own beliefs and objectives and instead prioritize preventing death. for a while, she obliges by this, even as it causes them to lose challenges and causes her friends to drop out of the game like flies, until she decides she has enough of it and rebels against the others and their beliefs.

ice cube was used as a pawn of sorts by freesmart, a replacement for members that were held to more respect and value than her. her and the others always did what they were told for the alliance, and when she eventually splits off from freesmart, she is almost immediately coddled and controlled by book, still completely unable to speak or think for herself before she eventually snaps at book and leaves altogether.

basketball was completely complacent in bfb, her only feature outside of her loyalty to 8-ball being her empathy for others. this shines through in tpot when, even despite their differences in personality or team, basketball looks out for others more than herself, but nobody else listens to her when she tries to voice the problems she's seeing. this complete disregard for basketball and what she cares about is what causes a downward spiral of events beyond anybody's control.

gaty and two became attached to eachother very quickly, becoming almost codependent in a sense. gaty gives everything she has to two, and her willingness to stay in the hotel with them, to keep them happy - their willingness to keep her there because of their attachment - only puts her in more danger, and ends in them being separated for good.

it's stated outright by one that donut puts others over himself, even people like pencil and their mess of a team. he chooses to be selfless, a voice of reason, a leader that holds the team together despite the chaos it always brings in its wake.

her deals that weren't shown to us onscreen tie into this as well:

bomby, since his debut on bfdi, has been used as a weapon or tool by all of the people around him, mistreated and hurt and never taken seriously despite the fact that he tries to be strong and independent in the later seasons.

bell's privacy is treated as a joke by both the narrative and the others, and struggles to be left alone without help, help that more often than not isn't provided to her.

needle spent so much of her time in bfdia trying to appease others, which led to her being easy to take advantage of. she literally played on two teams at the same time in order to make everyone happy with her, but she eventually decided that she was tired of being used and left these groups, turning against them and deciding to win for herself.

barf bag's autonomy being tampered with started an apocalypse that changed the way she viewed herself and caused her to avoid her team for a brief period of time because she didn't want to be seen as a monster. in that same episode, her nightmare involved people doing things that she couldn't control and influencing her in ways that she couldn't stop.

what do you notice about all of these characters? all of them were overshadowed by others, either by prioritizing them over themselves or by being taken advantage of. all of them want to be recognized, respected, and heard, and despite that, all of them lacked one thing: control. if they wanted control in their lives, they'd have to fight for it, if they wanted power in their lives, they'd have to snap to get people to see that they deserved it. and if that weren't the case, the world around them would snap for them.

one seems to be very, very familiar with this kind of person. familiar enough for them to be her only targets, familiar enough for her to know exactly what to give them and exactly what they want to hear, familiar enough to suggest that this kind of person is much closer to her than just a means to executing her plan.

familiar enough that it could also very well suggest that this kind of person was one herself.

now, we really have no idea what one's past looked like, but we do have a crucial detail given to us by six in tpot 17: she was supposed to be gone.

this implies that one must've done something, something so bad that it made the other algebraliens decide to get rid of her for good. could this have been something ongoing until they decided enough was enough, or was it something bigger than that? had one, perhaps, snapped, the same way we saw her do when she was tested in tpot 17, the same way we saw multiple of her signatories do when they were tired of being pushed aside and looked down on?

in tpot 13, one expresses that she does have power, "but not enough." while this could easily be read in reference to her plan, it also hints at how she looks at herself: her power is not enough. one is not enough.

she needs two's power because she can't reach her goal without it. she needs to become something bigger, something more, in order for her to feel like that's enough for her. being obeyed and looked up to by her victims makes her feel powerful, like she's more, like she's enough, having constant control makes her feel like she's enough, having everything she wants handed to her makes her feel like she's enough, because maybe, she never had that.

maybe, one was just like her targets, selfless and almost complacent at times, observant enough to spot the issues others were having, even if she was the only person who did, even if none of the others took her seriously, even if they pitied her, treated her as a lesser, and acted as though she had no power in her own life.

and all of that lasted until she decided that everyone deserved to be a little selfish - it's only fair.

she became tired of giving herself and not getting anything back. she became tired of being looked down on, tired of not having control - all one wanted was control for once, and she would get that whether they liked it or not.

and that frustration was enough to make one snap and do something that earned her imprisonment in the moon, which only served as a painful and enraging reminder of how they saw her.

she was going to get out, and she was going to make sure that nobody ever looked down on her again.

for now, this is all theories, and it's a bit rough, but i appreciate you guys for sticking around this long !! lets see how well these theories hold up.. if they do.. at all.. um