#sometimes it can get you killed in painful nasty ways
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apollosgiftofprophecy · 2 years ago
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Why Jason Grace is The Most Tragic Character in the Riordanverse
*in no way is this trying to dial down Nico's own suffering, I'm just stating my case for Jason because godsdamn SOMEBODY needs to say it!*
@most-tragic-character-tournament here's propoganda i came out guns ablazing
List of why fans are saying Nico:
Lost his mother
lost years of his life
found out he was a demigod at age 10
lost sister at 10
rough relationship with his dad
closeted gay
crush is madly in love with somebody else
forced to come out
List of why Jason is more tragic:
Lost his mom to alcoholism/mental decline
Lost his ENTIRE FUCKING CHILDHOOD because Said Mom gave him up to Juno to be raised by a PACK OF WOLVES who would've EATEN HIM if he was WEAK FOR EVEN A SECOND - AS A FUCKING TWO YEAR OLD
Was a trained demigod FROM THE GET-GO (again, TWO YEARS OLD)
Because of previously stated separation, was TAKEN FROM HIS SISTER WHO LOVED HIM SO MUCH SHE RAN AWAY BECAUSE SHE COULDN'T TAKE THE GUILT AND FEAR AND RAGE THAT FILLED HER AT HIS ABSENCE
Was set up into a "perfect" relationship by Juno/Hera WHILE HAVING HIS MEMORIES TAKEN
Jason may not have had the awful forced outting Nico had to go through, but...that's not really his fault? Nobody has any control over their sexual identity, and Jason? Well. He never really got to explore it. Because that was taken from him too.
Thinks he LOST LEO VALDEZ, ONE OF HIS ACTUAL FIRST FRIENDS, WHO LIKED HIM FOR HIM AND NOT BECAUSE OF HIS STATUS
FORCED TO COMPLY TO A DEMANDING SOCIETY THAT EXALTED HIM FROM DAY 1 BECAUSE HIS DAD IS THE OH-SO-IMPORTANT JUPITER (*cough victim of nepotism cough*)
AND WHEN HE TRIES TO COMBAT THAT NEPOTISM HE KEEPS GETTING PUSHBACK UNTIL HE FALTERS
then. then his girlfriend breaks up with him - not because of any drama, or even a disagreement, but over a very valid point
their relationship didn't exactly start out very...honestly. Jason had been mind-wiped of all memories and Piper had fake ones implanted into her to make her think she liked Jason as more than a friend. sure. they had a pretty nice relationship, but when everything slowed down and they took a look at their lives?
Piper's the one who sees it first, and makes the decision. Jason is heartbroken, but understands - he even, dare I say, agrees that they should end the relationship. it was built on fake memories - you could say it was built on lies.
and now Jason has this opportunity to step back and analyze who he is and what he wants.
what he finds is depressing. everything he's had, everything's he's been up till now...
it's not him.
he never wanted to be raised by Lupa and her wolves.
he never wanted to be Jupiter's son
he never wanted to be the exalted leader Camp Jupiter praised him for
From day 1 his life was somebody else's. his first steps were under the tutelage of a wolf, not of the loving eyes of his sister
Camp Jupiter only ever saw him as the demigod to be praised and turn to above all others, even before he became praetor.
Jason's life...was never his own.
and now that he's away from all that pressure and expectation...he doesn't know who he is.
Son of Jupiter?
Champion of Juno?
Praetor of the Twelfth Legion?
Member of the Prophesized Seven?
Hero of Olympus?
no. he was never himself under these names.
he was never...Jason.
but maybe now he could start navigating his own life. without some god intervening for once. this would be good for him, and for Piper, to find their own way.
but then. then they talk to Herophile...and find out one of them will die. And Jason? Well, he's not going to let Piper be taken from the life she deserves. he may not be her boyfriend, her knight in shining armor, but he sure as HELL loves her - especially as a friend. And if there's one thing you should know about Jason? It's that he loves his friends.
so what does he do? He sacrifices himself. He duels Caligula himself, and urges Piper, Meg, and Apollo to Go, save yourselves! and -
he's stabbed. through the chest. the only thing he can do? Look to Apollo, to the blue gaze so much like his own drenched in horror, and ask; Remember. because he didn't get to live the life he wished, but maybe Apollo could - no, Apollo can, he can make the difference Jason wanted. Because he trusts Apollo.
Jason doesn't regret his sacrifice. he saved Piper from the prophecy, after all. He saved Apollo & Meg's lives too.
in fact, Jason didn't really mind dying. Because he didn't have much of a life either. And a life like that? shrug It's worth sacrificing for those who deserve theirs.
and as icing on the cake, remember who Jason's father is? The almighty, all-powerful Jupiter himself, King of the Gods?
he doesn't do a damn thing to help Jason. Not a single. Thing.
because Jupiter/Zeus doesn't care about his children. Especially his sons.
Zeus saved Thalia. But he didn't even try to save Jason.
Trying would have at least lessened the pain...
People like to claim Jason is a bland, boring character who's never suffered a minute in his life. That he's a golden retriever with no flaws.
Well.
Take a look up there and ask yourself - it that the life of a boy who knows no suffering?
Because it sure as hell don't look that way to me.
To me, it looks like Jason was a used, depressed young man who never got to choose his own path. Who's father abandoned him first to his wife's mercy, then to a cruel emperor's.
Jason Grace suffered.
and he never got to live that happy life he saw within the Fates.
Never got to get that family, those grandchildren he saw himself telling the story of the Argo II to.
Because The Fall of Jason Grace is a true, utter tragedy.
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azzibuckets · 3 months ago
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reputation, or, all the ways i’ve loved you
or, love is immature and heady and new and blissful and hard and exhausting and it might kill you but in the end—love endures.
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: paige and azzi in various stages of love, as told through reputation by taylor swift
a/n: as a celebration for 3k followers, here’s my longest fic yet! don’t know if this style is for me so we’ll see if i ever write a long one again lol. nevertheless, i hope you guys enjoy :)
word count: 9k
masterlist | oneshots masterlist
⋆⑅˚₊ i. dancing with our hands tied - i loved you in secret / first sight, yeah, we love without reason
July 2018
Out of all the things Azzi Fudd expected her father to do after telling him the big news, laughing was probably last on the list. Actually, scratch that — it wasn’t even on the list to begin with, because what kind of father takes their child’s health as a joke? Certainly not Tim, who’s forced Azzi to take her daily vitamin gummies for as long as she can remember, the nasty ones that taste too sour to resemble the Trolli eggs they’re supposed to be a dupe of.
But here is Tim Fudd, the man who raised her, lines crinkling around his eyes as he guffaws so loud he starts pounding his own chest. Azzi would be worried for his lack of oxygen if she wasn’t so incredulously offended. “Dad? Did you hear what I said?”
“Oh, I heard you.” Tim pauses to take a breath before starting to laugh again, tears slowly beginning to form at the corner of his eyes.
“What’s so funny, then?” Azzi questions snarkily, hands on her hips in the perfect pose of sassy teenage indignance.
“Azzi, honey.” Tim straightens up as his breathing ebbs back to normal. He moves to place a comforting hand on Azzi’s shoulder, but she jerks away, not at all in the mood for his antics. “You’re not sick,” he says gently. “I think you might have something else.”
Azzi wrinkles her nose, running through all the meticulous shelves of research stored in her mind. She’d gone through every possibility on the Internet, taking methodical notes on every potential disorder, anamoly, or illness that could be afflicting her body. She'd been pretty sure she’d scoured them all, but maybe she had missed something in her overzealousness. “You’re saying I didn’t get a hypoglycemic episode?”
“Sweetie, do you even know what hypoglycemic means?”
Azzi opens her mouth to answer, wanting to say that she does, in fact, know that hypoglycemia is an indicator of low glucose levels in the blood, and that if left untreated, her bodily functions will not have enough energy to continue, and her organs will fail, and she will die a long and painful death, and her understanding of the word hypoglycemic makes it all the more astounding as to why her dad won't take her illness seriously, but before she can can even begin her tirade, her dad winces and puts up a palm. “Actually, never mind. I don’t want to hear all about your self diagnosis, as funny as it is.”
“It’s not a self diagnosis if everyone on the Internet says I have all the symptoms of hypoglycemia!” Azzi argues, but even she knows the argument is weak.
Tim massages his forehead, lips twitching with the exertion of holding back a second round of laughter. “And what did you say your symptoms were again, hon?”
“Excessive sweating, even when I’m like, standing still and it’s 60 degrees out. And dizziness. And my fingers start to shake sometimes! Difficulty concentrating, and tingling lips.” Azzi lists them out on her fingers, smiling triumphantly when she’s finished. Take that, Dad.
“Mm.” Tim rubs his chin in thought. “And when exactly do you experience these symptoms?”
“Well, the last time I can remember is when I was hanging out with Paige at Grandma’s on Wednesday.”
Tim coughs into his arm, loud, and it sounds suspiciously like a wheeze. Azzi squints at him, suspicion written across her face. After recovering, he prods, “Do you remember any of the other times this has happened?”
“I don’t know, I can’t think specifically. It happens a lot. Umm…” Azzi thinks back. “Maybe last week, at the fair? I’m trying to remember.” She closes her eyes, trying to prompt memories of that airy feeling in her head, the rollercoaster in her tummy, the buzz in her chest that had started the car ride over to the fair, right around when they’d picked Paige and her brother up.
It had gotten increasingly worse as the day went on, peaking during the afternoon when they’d been on the bumper cars. She’d been squished into the same car as Paige, the car offering only a very small seat to service two basketball players suffering from summer growth spurts, all long limbs and awkward lank. As a result, the sides of their feet and thighs and arms had been touching and overlapping—Paige almost fell into Azzi’s lap when Jose crashed into them especially hard, golden hair spilling across Azzi’s face and pale hands landing on her thighs. She remembers the smell of fruity shampoo and the feeling of feathery strands tickling her cheeks making her even dizzier than bumper car itself, her nerve endings lighting up, every point on her skin ultra sensitive as sweat had started to pool in her armpits and in the palms of her head. And when Paige's palms had rubbed up and down on her thighs — God. She'd almost died.
Azzi shudders at the memory and opens her eyes. “Yeah, definitely at the fair.”
“The fair?” Tim cocks an eyebrow. “You mean, the fair we went to last week?”
“Yes, Dad, that’s what I said,” Azzi responds, growing increasingly frustrated.
“The fair we went to with Paige and Drew?”
“Yeah.” Azzi crosses her arms in defiance. “Is that supposed to be relevant?”
Tim makes an unncommital sound in his throat. “So you’re saying you don’t get any of these symptoms, say, at home?“
“Well…” Azzi purses her lips. “I guess recently I've been having difficulty concentrating all the time. Wherever I’m like, at home or school or whatever.”
“What makes it hard to concentrate?” Tim cocks his head in genuine curiosity. “What’re you thinking about?”
Azzi doesn’t have a ready answer. What does she think about? She tries to draw from her memory again, but gets distracted by the sort of hilarious, muddled irony of trying to think about what’re you usually thinking about. Then she realizes she’s making an expression again, the expression Paige has coined as her “thinky face” whenever she’s trying really hard to work out a homework problem or come up with an outfit to wear. The first time Paige had mentioned it, Azzi had frowned at her. “I don’t have a thinky face,” she’d replied.
“Oh, you totally do,” Paige said, glee written across her face — her typical attitude whenever she gets to argue with Azzi about something and be right.
“No, I don’t,” Azzi argued, but she’s already accepted that it’s a useless fight. It always is with Paige, who's stubborn and hard-headed and so much like Azzi that she looks at her best friend sometimes and think she's found her soulmate. Platonic soulmate, of course.
Paige smirked at her. “Azzi Fudd so has a thinky face.” She leaned in closer, so close that Azzi could see the glimmer in the deep blue of her eyes and the way her long lashes fluttered. “It’s okay, though, I think it’s pretty cute.” Then she’d pulled back and started talking about some stupid NBA game she’d watched recently, a topic Azzi usually tuned out anyways but this time especially didn’t pay any attention to because she was too disarmed by the fact that Paige had just called her cute. It shouldn’t have felt weird; her friends at school and her teammates called her beautiful and cute and adjectives much more crazy all the time, but still. There again went that same dry feeling in her throat.
“Azzi?”
Azzi blinks as she’s pulled back to the present. “Huh?”
“Maybe you are really sick.” Tim sends her a weary look. “But I just asked you what you usually think about, remember? Do you have an answer?”
“No." Azzi shakes her head grimly. "I couldn’t remember.”
Tim is the one to squint in disbelief this time. “Honey, what were you just thinking about? That’s probably it.”
“Oh, Paige? I was thinking about something she told me the other day. But it’s nothing. Before I was trying to remember, but I couldn’t think—" She’s cut off with an uncomfortable realization that’s starting to dawn in her as a very, very large pit balloons in the bottom of her tummy and begins to ache.
And at the same time this horrible understanding is beginning to come to light in the back of Azzi’s brain, Jose stands up from where he’d been sitting on the couch, watching TV. “You’re stupid, Azzi,” he snickers as he walks by them to grab a snack. “I’m only twelve and even I know you’re not sick.”
“Shut up, Jose,” Azzi replies back angrily, still staring at her hands — the very same hands that had held Paige's, and trembled and moistened in sweaty nervousness. No.
Jose, her little twerp of a brother, sticks his tongue out. “Your lips aren’t tingling from hypoguyseema, dummy.”
“Hypoglycemia,” Tim supplies unhelpfully.
“Your lips are tingling because you wanna make out with Paigey.” And the words don’t really register in Azzi’s heads, not right away at least, she honestly only reaches out to slap Jose from her instinctive, older sisterly awareness that he's being an annoying smart ass like usual, but still he runs away, out of her grasp, singing obnoxiously at the top of his lungs, “Paige and Azzi sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"
“Shut up, Jose!” She picks up a pillow from the couch and chucks it at him, narrowly missing his retreating figure and instead hitting a vase that slowly toddles in places before falling to the ground with a dramatic crash.
“Azzi, you know we don’t throw things in the house for a reason,” Tim reprimands, exasperated at the childish scene in front of him, but when he turns to look at his daughter, her head is in her hands and her shoulders are shaking.
Tim has loved Azzi since he’s met her as a bumbling little toddler who instantly attached to his hip. He knows Azzi is sweet and sensitive and soft, a girl who has the gift of easily picking up on others' emotions but also is vulnerable to having her own shaken up. So he bites his tongue and makes a mental note to resolve the sibling conflict later. Right now, his daughter needs him; without a word, he collects Azzi into his arms and lets her tears fall on his shirt sleeve.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” and he doesn’t have to say anything else for Azzi to understand he’s not just talking about now — that this shocking and indescribable feeling that Azzi has only been able to name now, is okay, that Azzi, for who she is, is okay.
And yes, Azzi is able to name the feeling, but yet she buries it under her skin. Just because she realizes she has a crush on Paige doesn’t mean she has to act like it — and it especially doesn’t mean Paige, who definitely doesn't like her like that, has to know, she reminds herself.
And although the "illness" never goes away, although she never stops being nervous, and her fingers never stop trembling at least a little when Paige kisses her goodbye on the cheek, Azzi becomes really good at acting. Really good. At first, she couldn't sleep at night, overwrought with anxiety because no matter how good she became at pretending, Jose and her family have never been the best at keeping secrets. But she finds a way to control it definitely not by threatening to take away and sell her brother’s gaming console if she ever hears a peep about how much she damningly wants to kiss Paige, and time passes, and Azzi turns 17, and it’s been two years of knowing Paige, and she thinks that she might be a little bit in love at this point.
She knows how her crush started: an infatuation at camp, impressed by the white girl's agility and speed on the court, the ease and practiced experience with which she directed the team on the court, turning them from a group of girls who'd never played together before into one that worked the ball seamlessly to a gold medal. Of course, in the very beginning, she'd always been hyper-aware of the fact that Paige was just so pretty, a mischievous smirk ever present on pretty pink lips that looked too soft, eyes always bright and hair, even when messy, like a halo around her face.
Then Paige had decided to come into Azzi’s life and do things like go with her family to the fair, and the infatuation had turned into something closely resembling love. And it's not like there weren't many other things that made Azzi fall so fast and so dangerously, like how kind Paige was to the JV girls on her high school team even when they could barely shoot free throws, to the way she was so freely open about her adoration for Azzi, always having to saying something about good she thought Azzi looked.
It was safe to say that Paige had wormed her way into her team then her life then her family then her heart, settling in there like it was home and she’d always belonged there. Paige was someone who could make her laugh, but was always up to talk about serious things, and also was just so sweet to Azzi. Azzi had never met someone who had been all of those things, and now she was positively enthralled. So, even at age 15, even at age 16, and 17, Azzi is completely and utterly fucked.
⋆⑅˚₊ ii. dress - all of this silence and patience / pining in anticipation
April 2019
Azzi hadn’t planned on going to prom.
It was only her junior prom, anyways, and it happened to be the same time Paige was coming to visit, which meant she was going to be booked and busy. Her friends had pushed her to go, but how could she tell them she’d rather be with Paige, playing 1v1 in an empty gym where they always guarded a little too close, hands fisting shirts, always with. heavy breaths into the back’s of each other’s necks and fingers skimming palms?
But then James had made her a poster, standing at her front door with a big smile on his face and flowers in one hand. And she hadn't wanted to hurt his feelings, and what did she have to lose? James was nice, and cute enough. His hands were soft and Azzi didn’t mind holding them.
Which is how Azzi finds herself at the Lincoln Memorial, walking painstakingly up the steps in her tight heels. Her mom had gotten a makeup artist to come doll her up, and it’s her first time wearing eyeliner, or any eye makeup at all. She thinks she could get used to this smoky look, the way her lashes look full and dark. It’s not often she gets to express her feminine side, with basketball taking almost all of her waking minutes - she hasn’t ever gone to homecoming or any other dance, and sweats and her shirts are typically her go to outfit. So she admits that this wasn’t a terrible idea, to get dressed up and pretty for once. It certainly helped being able to watch Paige’s reaction (all blushes and wide eyes, thank you very much) when she’d stepped out of the bathroom, glimmering and gilded in a shiny dress that slotted open to show the rich brown of her thigh.
Azzi knew that Paige found her attractive. And although she’s spent years wishing such an attraction went beyond a nere appreciation of her body and her face, she’s long accepted the fact that the love Paige has for her is purely platonic. Strong and steady, sure, but heartbreakingly platonic. Still, Azzi, gets a kick out of making Paige nervous.
Azzi winces as she stumbles for the fifth time, the sole of her foot throbbing and screaming to be let out of the confines of her heels.
“I told you you should’ve brought sneakers and carried your heels,” Pige says from behind her, and Azzi fights the urge to turn around and throttle her. Usually, her best friend would usually offer to do that for her, but Azzi can tell she’s using this opportunity to try and test James — and by the shit-eating smirk on Paige's face, Azzi knows that failing would be generous to describe how he's doing.
Azzi glances beside her and places her hand on her mouth to stifle a giggle. Paige sticks out like a sore thumb as she walks casually behind them, hands stuffed into her Nike sweats. She’s wearing her bright pink EYBL sweater, her hair slightly messy from lying around all day, but she still looks confident as ever, totally unperturbed by the long gowns and tuxedos surrounding her.
“Alright, smile!” Tim and Katie hold up five different cameras, capturing about a million different angles of the group of teens. Paige stands next to them, watching as they pose, but it doesn't take long before she begins to grow bored. “Why am I even here?” Azzi hears her complain quietly to her parents.
“Because when you stay with us, you’re part of our family, and being part of the family means coming to support each other in big moments," Katie reminds her, ruffling Paige's hair.
“Big moments, my ass,” Paige says under her breath as to goes to carefully fix her hair. “I’ve never even been to prom. It can’t be that good.”
“Paige.” Katie sends her a warning glare, effectively shutting her up. Paige has a very comfortable relationship with Tim and Katie, they're basically a second set of parents for her, but she knows her limits.
“Be a good sport, kid.” Tim adds, and claps her on the back. With a long and drawn-out sigh, Paige follows begrudgingly as they move from place to place to take more pictures, hands staying in her pockets and face remaining indifferent.
“Alright Paige, get in there!” Katie puts her camera down to encourage Paige with a nod.
“I’m not even dressed nice,” Paige grumbles, but she sidles in anyways, hand hovering hesitantly over Azzi's side before brushing down her back and finally settling firmly on her hip. The dark haired girl finds herself leaning away from James and into Paige’s touch, her hand burning into Azzi's skin even through the layers of her dress.
“One of you two alone?” Tim asks, a teasing smile on his face. Azzi narrows her eyes at him.
“Aw, you don’t want one with me?” Paige grins, her tone light as she starts to leave.
“No, I do, wait,” Azzi stumbles over her words, flustered, as Tim starts to laugh into his hands. She reaches for the blonde’s hand and tugs her back to her side where she belongs. “My dad’s just being annoying.”
James steps out, and Paige immediately relaxes, head naturally tilting towards Azzi's as they both smile for the cameras. “Aight, I think that’s good,” Paige says after another round of photos and cooing by Azzi’s parents. She takes a step back, shoving her hands back into her pocket as her eyes skim Azzi’s body. Azzi meets her eyes once they come back up, and she wills Paige to say something, anything, but the blonde only swallows hard before looking away.
“Az, I’m gonna go with your dad to get the car,” James tells her. “You good going with your mom back home? I’ll be there to pick you up in like, half an hour.”
The car ride back to her house is silent. Paige picks at her cuticles, while Azzi sits ramrod straight in her seat, not wanting to mess up her hair or wrinkle her dress. When her mom pulls into the driveway, she reaches over and pinches Paige’s side. “Can you stay for a sec? I wanna talk.”
Paige, who had been already attempting to get out of the car, sits back down into her seat, eyebrows raised in a question. Azzi doesn’t speak yet, and their breathing is the only sound in the car. Paige crosses then uncrosses her legs, peeking at Azzi before returning her gaze outside the window, clearly impatient for the younger girl to begin talking.
Azzi fingers a strand of her hair. “Do you think I look pretty?”
Paige’s lips quirk at the question. “That was not what I was expecting you to say.”
“What were you expecting me to say?” Azzi asks, slightly defensive.
“Nothing,” Paige replies too quickly, but Azzi senses a tinge of relief in her tone. She shifts in her seat, edging slightly closer as she examines Azzi’s face. Her knee accidentally bumps into Azzi's ribs. Azzi hates when her best friend starts looking at her with her full attention. The heavy weight of blue eyes always causes her heart to flutter, and she begins to squirm self-consciously under her gaze. “Stop that.”
“You asked me if I thought you were pretty,” Paige retorts. “Can’t blame me for looking.”
God, she’s so annoying. Azzi pushes her, but Paige catches her hand, sandwiching it between her own and bringing it captive to her lips. “Of course I think you look pretty, Az,” Paige laughs. She presses a single small kiss to her knuckles. “You know I do.”
“Well, you didn’t compliment me tonight, and you always do.” Azzi ducks her head as she feels the warmth in her cheeks give her away. Damn it.
“Always want my validation, huh,” Paige teases, trying to meet her eyes, but Azzi looks away still, stubborn as always, and her expression sombers. “You look gorgeous, Azzi, seriously. I mean, you’re always gorgeous,” Paige tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, but Azzi’s not sure there was even a flyaway to begin with, so Paige ends up just ghosting her fingers down from her temple to her chin. “But…” her gaze falls down, and her eyes alone say enough words to finish her sentence and a thousand more. Paige leans in, eyes half lidded, and Azzi shuts her eyes, preparing for the usual affectionate kiss on the cheek. She shudders when she feels lips on her neck instead, at the soft spot below her ear, lingering for a few seconds before it’s gone all too soon. Deep, unguarded heat blooms from that spot, spreading from her neck to her chest.
Azzi realizes they’re still holding hands, and she gives Paige's fingers a squeeze for the hell of it. Encouraged, Paige moves in even closer, hands moving to the headrest for support. Azzi is caged in by Paige’s arms, and Azzi sort of likes it, and she sort of wants Paige to start kissing down her neck like in the movies, maybe leaving a mark or two, but she’s met only with a kiss on her cheek, right near the corner of her mouth, so close that if she’d moved to the right just a couple millimeters their lips would’ve touched.
Paige’s lips part just a bit, her tongue poking out to lick her bottom lip. Her breathing whistles out unevenly. “Have fun tonight, Azzi,” she says, eyes flicking down, and Azzi swears they pause at her lips. She pops the door open and slides out, walking slowly back inside all cool and collected, like she didn’t just leave Azzi absolutely ruined from just two kisses.
Azzi bangs her head against the headrest, perfect hair be gone, and groans.
༉‧₊˚✧
When she finally gets back home, hair messy from dancing, calves sore from jumping around, Azzi is just a little tipsy, softened at the edges. Most of the effects from pre-gaming with her friends have worn off by now, and all she feels is the loose warmth in her chest, a warmth that floods down to her toes when she opens her bedroom door and sees a lump on her bed. Blonde hair peeks out from beneath her purple blanket. Azzi giggles when she lifts it and sees Paige with her mouth ajar, snoring away. Her glasses are perched messily on her nose, laptop on her thighs still open. She takes a quick picture for blackmail purposes before grabbing her pajamas to go change.
Azzi blames the alcohol for the way she can’t stop smiling to herself the whole way to the bathroom. It’s been a hectic day, and the thought of being able to curl up in bed with her best friend, being able to soak in the warmth of her body heat and bury her face into her neck and finally relax, gives her more satisfaction than she’d like to admit.
By the time Azzi has finished getting ready for bed, Paige, constantly moving while awake and in her sleep, has sprawled out in the center of the mattress. Azzi climbs in gingerly, but despite her best efforts not to disturb the older girl, she stirs.
“Azzi?” The blonde rolls over and snuggles into a pillow before she seemingly remembers where she is and shoots up in bed, looking as startled as a deer caught in headlights.
Azzi can’t help but snicker. “Yeah?”
Paige blinks groggily at her, clearly needing a moment to get her bearings. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.” She fidgets with the end of her shirt, almost as if she’s embarrassed to have been caught in Azzi’s bed like this, and Azzi gets a sudden surge of cuteness aggression.
Deciding not to turn it into a big deal (she'd never want to scare Paige away from sleeping in her bed, God knows how much she loves it) out of the goodness of her heart, and the sore muscles in her body telling her to just sleep, Azzi says quietly, “You don’t have to go.” She pulls the comforter over her chest as she watches Paige breathe heavily, her shoulders and back flexing in her hunched over position.
A moment of silence passes before Paige responds. “Okay.” Lying back down is an awkward process, actions hesitant as the older girl overthinks where to go. She finds the very edge of the bed, arms pinned to her sides as she stares directly up at the ceiling. And it’s not like Paige and Azzi have never slept in the same bed, but they’ve never intentionally slept together, limbs intertwining only in the dark of night when they pretend to be asleep and ending when one of them wakes up first in the morning and is able to separate themselves before they have to deal with the awkward ordeal of waking up snuggling. Neither of them have ever really considered the fact that it shouldn’t be awkward for people who are really just friends to cuddle—but for them, it always has been, even the slightest of touches meaning too much and too little.
So Azzi waits for Paige to settle into bed and close her eyes before she takes the initiative to scoot closer in. She pauses a little when her best friend stiffens, and starts to regret maybe overstepping. But then Paige reaches out for her. She stares at the ceiling, not looking at Azzi, but her hand tugs Azzi’s wrist, bringing her closer until she’s fully curling into Paige’s chest. Paige's arm falls around her shoulders a little awkwardly. But she's warm, her chest solid, and Azzi thinks it's perfect.
Azzi has almost drifted fully into unconciousness when Paige whispers, “How was prom?” Her lips graze Azzi’s temple as she speaks into her hair, and Azzi shudders at the feeling.
“It was fine.” She presses her forehead sleepily to Paige’s neck, skin against skin, feeling her pulse thrum steadily. The fresh scent of Paige's deodorant and body wash is simple, a thousand times familiar, but still her favorite in the world. “Missed you,” Azzi admits, the tenderness in her own voice making her cringe a little.
Paige squeezes her closer in. “Missed you more." Her thumb caresses the younger girl's jawline, soothing her to sleep. "Maybe next year will be more fun.”
Azzi doesn’t say that prom was only fine because she could only think about Paige the entire time, and that things probably wouldn't change in a year if they hadn't for the past three. She only hums softly in response.
“Good night.” Paige drops a kiss on her hairline, so briefly and so casually that Azzi almost misses it.
“Night.” Azzi snuggles closer in, heart racing, and she sleeps.
⋆⑅˚₊ iii. so it goes - i'm yours to keep and i'm yours to lose
May 2020
Paige knows before it happens.
It was hard not to. Azzi had been acting distant all week, smiles tight and eyes a little less shiny whenever she’d spoken to Paige. The blonde had just assumed it was because she was having a hard time saying goodbye—what she didn't know was that Azzi was saying goodbye in more ways than one.
The morning of, Paige is the last in the house to wake up. She pads downstairs, still in her pajamas, to find her family and Azzi at the table, eating waffles. Drew is babbling about dinosaurs or something, whipped cream all over his nose and chin, while her dad mans the waffle maker and her step-mom packs a bag of snacks. Azzi is sitting next to Drew, cross-legged and domestic while feeding him between bites of her own food, and it strikes a feeling within Paige she can’t quite place yet.
“Good morning to my two favorite people,” she crows, her volume much too loud for 9 in the morning as seen by the winces on everyone’s faces. She throws one arm each around her little brother and best friend, pulling them in for a group hug, and she finds a hint of the old, familiar softness in Azzi’s eyes before it’s quickly replaced by the distant, guarded expression she’s been wearing for too long. Paige’s stomach heaves a little, but then Drew smears some whipped cream on her nose, eliciting a tickle war, and like usual, the feeling gets pushed to the side.
“Paige, there’s a stack of waffles for you on the table. Try to eat pretty quick because we have to leave soon,” her dad motions for her to sit down, and Paige dutifully obeys. Her eyes light up when she sees the bottle of syrup, and she proceeds to grab it eagerly before drizzling a concerning amount onto her breakfast.
“Paige, you’re gonna make yourself sick,” Azzi reprimands, but Paige only kicks her hard under the table before digging in.
“I’m packing some food for your plane ride,” her step-mom says. “Do you want Slim Jims or apple slices as snack?”
“Can I have both?”
“You only have room for one.”
Decisions, decisions. “Slim Jims.”
Azzi wipes her mouth with her napkin. “Hey,” she says quietly when the adults fall back into their own conversation. “I need to talk to you before you leave.”
“Oh yeah, I was gonna talk to you anyways. I needed to tell you something.” Paige was going to give Azzi the letter she wrote a couple weeks ago. She’d written and rewritten it only about a hundred times, then copied the final letter to fancy card stock paper in her best hand-writing, even adding a couple quick sketches of flowers and rainbows and hearts. It looked pretty awesome, if she did say so herself. Anddddd it also said a bunch of things she wasn’t ready to say out loud, so Paige’s current plan was to say her good-bye before shoving the card in Azzi’s hands as the last thing she’d do before jumping in the car and leaving. And then she’d spend the entire plane ride with her dad going batshit crazy thinking about Azzi reading it.
But still, it would be worth it. Paige was so sure Azzi felt the same — how could she not? She felt the way Azzi’s heart rate picked up whenever they touched, knew the way Azzi looked at her when she thought she wasn’t looking wasn’t normal for just best friends, especially since summer, when everything had between them had changed. It had started off with a kiss, and quickly evolved to something messy and tangled between the two of them that they’d labeled as “friends with benefits”, a label that Paige thought did their dynamic injustice. But still, it had been four years of knowing each other and almost a year of being more, and Paige was finally ready to let Azzi know. No more friends with benefits — girlfriends.
But Paige, so caught up in her thoughts, doesn’t see Azzi’s face drop, the younger girl’s tendency to overthink clearly leading her own train of thought. So she continues to eat her waffles in blissful ignorance as Azzi sits back quietly.
༉‧₊˚✧
“I’m just so ready, ya know?” Paige tosses her charger in the backpack. “I think that’s everything on my packing list,” she muses to herself quietly, gaze sweeping around the room with an air of finality. Then she looks up at Azzi and smiles. “The college experience, the whole nine yards.” She takes a seat on her bed and pats the spot next to her, indicating for the dark haired girl to sit with her. “Even though there’s still COVID and I won’t be able to do the really fun stuff—" she imagines playing in front of a sold out crowd at Gampel, and the smile on her face dims just a little at the feeling of missing out, “—still, I’m just so excited. I can’t stop like, bouncing around. You get it, right?” She flops down on the bed, hands folding behind her head as she closes her eyes and imagines it all.
Azzi is silent beside her, still sitting upright. Paige can’t see her face, so she nudges her knee. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Azzi’s voice is unsteady. “I get it.”
Paige opens her eyes and sits back up. “Bro, are you good? I didn't wanna say anything, but you’ve been kinda acting weird lately.”
“Listen,” Azzi says. She’s fiddling with a loose thread on her sweats, and Paige swears her fingers are shaking. “I know we haven’t really talked about it directly, but–" she takes a deep breath to steady her voice, “I want it to be clear between the two of us. Clean cut, you know?”
“Clean cut?” Paige echoes, lost.
“Yeah. No messy stuff and wondering what we are. So that you can go do your own thing at college, without feeling bad or- or like you owe me anything,” her words trail off into a gasp, “and I can do mine.”
Paige is even more lost. “Azzi, what are you talking about?”
Azzi bites her bottom lip, her nervous tic. “I’m saying that we should end this — whatever this is. Friends with benefits, casually sleeping together, whatever you wanna call it." She inhales sharply. "It’s probably the best for both of us.”
Immediately, she hones in on the word casual. Casual? Paige had never thought that whatever they had going on was a casual thing. Maybe unknown, unfamiliar, new—but never casual. She thought it was the most sacred thing in the world. A bitter taste forms at the base of her throat when she realizes that maybe she’s read it wrong all along. But Paige would never want to pressure Azzi into something she doesn't want. “So you’re saying - you’re saying you wanna end this?”
“Yeah." Azzi finally turns her head to her, and her face is marked by tear tracks. "You know, for your college experience. And for me.”
Devastation.
That's the only word Paige can think of that comes even close to what she's feeling right now.
She feels numb, and stupid, and god. How could she ever been so foolish to think that Azzi could like her back? Could want Paige in the same, aching, all-consuming, nonsensical way that she wanted Azzi? She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out but a broken "Okay."
“Okay?” Azzi sounds incredulous before she shakes her head and catches herself. Clearing her throat, she mumbles, “So, um, we good?”
Paige is thrown. Completely, utterly thrown. “Yeah, we’re good. I guess.”
Her dad calls for her downstairs, and when she stands it seems like she’s watching herself move in third person. “Well, thanks for visiting this past week and saying goodbye. I had fun.” Her tone is strangely flat, void of any emotion, unrecognizable even to herself. But when your heart has just gotten broken before it had to chance to even beat, how can self-preservation allow you to be on anything but auto-pilot?
“Yeah, me too.” Azzi sounds defeated, and Paige wonders if it’s because she’d felt trapped this entire week, had hated whenever Paige had pulled her aside for a quick kiss. The mere thought of Azzi feeling uncomfortable around her makes her nauseous with guilt.
So, Paige does the only thing she knows how to do. She shoulders on her backpack, but her suitcase and duffel bags are already in the trunk, so she doesn’t have anywhere to put her hands, and they hang limply by her side. She doesn’t even know if she should give Azzi a hug. “We’re still…we’re still best friends right?”
“Of course.” The smile Azzi flashes is meant to be reassuring, but the way it doesn’t reach her eyes makes it anything but. “I’ll come visit you soon,” she adds as an after-thought, seemingly wanting to remedy the situation, but Paige doesn’t even hear her, already leaving before she can finish her sentence. Having to stay any longer, having to look and let go of the sight of Azzi in her bed, in her room, in her home, would make her break down on the spot.
So Paige leaves without really saying good-bye, and she cries the entire plane ride to Connecticut.
⋆⑅˚₊
Azzi: just said goodbye to paige
Azzi: my flight's in a couple hours
Azzi: see you soon
Azzi finishes texting her parents before shutting her phone off and snuggling deeper into Paige's blankets. Everything had turned out so different than she'd expected a week ago. She'd came to Minnesota eager to spend a few days with her best friend before sending her off to college, with this persistent, nagging hope in the back of her brain that maybe this would be the moment where she could finally tell Paige about her feelings.
Then the moment she'd arrived at the Bueckers' home, Paige had started going on about how excited she was for the college experience. She hadn't said it explicitly — no, Paige was too kind to tell Azzi directly, but Azzi knew everything her best friend couldn't say. That she wanted to end these things, because she wanted other, better things: other girls, other people, other relationships.
And besides, letting go of Paige now is the only way to save herself in the future, Azzi reasons to herself. Being stuck in this weird limbo of being her best friend who also kisses her would only make it so much harder to see and hear about Paige with other girls in Connecticut. It was better to snap it in half now, while she still could, to leave her pride somewhat intact so that she wasn't hanging onto Paige while Paige was trying to shake her off.
Azzi had ended it before Paige could, and that was that.
⋆⑅˚₊ iv. dress - say my name and everything just stops / i don’t want you like a best friend
February 2022
“I’m gonna go hang out with Kiki after this.” The corner of Paige’s mouth twitches when Azzi stiffens in her arms.
“Oh, okay.”
Paige drums her fingers against Azzi's waist. “Just wanted to let you know.”
“Well, now I know.“ Azzi sidles out of her arms harshly. “Gonna go pee.”
The deeply entrenched lingers of doubt becomes to crawl in her mind again when Azzi leaves, but unlike a year ago, when Paige had left her house for the airport in tears, she has experience. Experience in reading people and picking up when they show all the tell-tale signs of a crush: the flush of cheeks, the stuttering whenever Paige flirts a little too hard, the way she subconsciously leans into her touch whenever they’re sitting next to each other. And the signs of jealousy — all the signs she sees in herself whenever Azzi talks to anyone but her. And honestly, even if Paige didn’t know for sure, it’s getting to a point where she can no longer ignore the tension between them. Ever since Azzi has joined her at UConn, even though they haven’t slept together, per se, their relationship has been more than when they were; the press of mouths to cheeks that linger longer than necessary, the grinding at Ted’s that start before either of them are really drunk but pretend to be for the sake of forgetting. And, in all honesty, Paige really can’t see Azzi talking to another asshat. Hence, their current situation.
When Azzi comes back, oversized shirt wet with the stains of washed hands, Paige has finished gathering up her courage again. Azzi makes a point of sitting down far out of reach at the other end of the couch instead of returning to Paige’s arms. Definitely jealous, she thinks to herself.
“Might take her out to a nice dinner or something,” Paige says, picking up right where she left off. Then she decides why not be more of an annoying shit, and asks, “Actually, can I borrow your car?”
Azzi’s eye twitches. “What do you need my car for?” She does a damn good job of forcing her tone into one of disinterest and indifference, but from the way her jaw ticks, Paige knows she’s anything but.
“Mine’s low on gas and the restaurant I wanna go to is far. Wanna give her princess treatment, you know?”
The younger girl is positively scowling now, eyes in slits as she channels all her anger into glaring at the TV. “And why are you telling me all of this?”
Paige scoots next to Azzi and throws an arm around her shoulder. Time to make her move. Tracing circles on her shoulder with a finger, she says slowly, “Because I wanted to see your reaction.”
“My reaction?”
Her laugh comes out breathy. “Azzi, I can tell that you’re jealous.”
Her best friend’s eyes close briefly, and Paige’s heart drops a beat. Reading Azzi has always came naturally to her, pure intuition for someone she’s always in sync with. Not to brag, but she’s perfected knowing exactly how to push Azzi and where her boundaries are, but this time maybe she’d gone too far. Paige is two seconds away from apologizing until the dark haired girl opens her eyes again and says firmly, “I’m not jealous.”
No turning back now. “No?”
“I’m really not.”
“So if I took your car, and went to pick her up, with a bouquet of flowers, maybe even some chocolate, and took her to a fancy restaurant…you wouldn’t mind at all?”
A strangled sound leaves Azzi’s mouth, so quiet Paige almost misses it. “Not at all.”
“And if I took her back to her house-“ Paige’s voice drops a note, all husky and raspy, “and I took her to her bedroom, and I kissed her-“
“Paige-”
“And I touched her-,”
“Paige, stop.” Azzi’s chest heaves. Paige looks away, trying not to get sidetracked by the way her tiny tank top dips on her cleavage and leaves a little too much to the imagination. The younger girl shrugs Paige’s arm off her shoulders and stands up, backing away as if being any closer to her will make her explode. “Fine, you win. You know I’m jealous.”
Paige’s smile is triumphant. “That’s all you all had to say, baby.”
Scoffing, Azzi turns around and marches into her room, but Paige is quick to follow. “I’m not hanging out with Kiki after this,”she says, breathing down Azzi’s neck as she almost steps on her heels, but her best friend speeds up. “I haven’t hung out with Kiki since before you got here.”
“So?”
“So,” Paige emphasizes, and realizing she has only about five seconds before Azzi reaches her room and slams the door in her face for being, she admits, sort of an asshole, she says all in one breath, “I-wanted-to-make-sure-you-felt-the-same-because-I-have-feelings-for-you-and-I’ve-had-them-for-a-while-and-I-really-want-to-take-you-on-a-proper-date-and-hopefully-become-your-girlfriend-because-I-don’t-wan’t-you-like-a-best-friend-and-I-honestly-go-crazy-thinking-about-you-with-anyone-but-me-but-if-you-don’t-feel-ready-for-more-yet-then-it’s-okay.” She’s panting by the time she finishes and doesn’t realize that Azzi has fully stopped in her tracks before she’s stumbling over her feet and crashing into her, sending the both of them falling to the ground.
Somehow they both end up with their backs against the carpet, looking up at the ceiling. Azzi is still breathing hard next to her, from speed walking or falling or from Paige getting on her nerves, Paige isn’t sure which, but she waits patiently for her response, trying to ignore the stupid noise in her head saying maybe your dumbass got it all wrong again.
Finally, finally, after what seems like ten minutes, Azzi opens her mouth. “You’re stupid,” is all she says, then she rolls over and kisses Paige on the mouth.
Not what Paige was expecting after her grand love confession, but the plumpness of Azzi’s bottom lip captured in between hers makes it hard to complain about anything at all.
They kiss for twenty minutes, or maybe forty. Paige loses track of time, and honestly, she could do this forever without getting tired, but she came to Azzi's apartment tonight with a game plan, and she has to stick with it, so she pushes her best friend away a little to end their 10/10 makeout session.
Smoothing the frizz of Azzi’s hair back with her palm, she whispers, “I’m gonna take you on a date, okay?”
Azzi grins and kisses her forehead. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow. Are you free?”
Azzi moves to her cheek, tongue leaving wet trails on her face. “Don’t act like you don’t know my schedule.”
“Okay then. Tomorrow at six.” Paige traces the dimple of Azzi’s smile with the pad of her thumb, memorizing the indentation she loves so much. “That was lowkey easier than I thought it’d be.”
“Making my life hell for the past twenty minutes was easier than you thought?” Azzi bites down hard on Paige bottom lip, teeth scraping into her soft skin, and the blonde winces.
“Sorry,” she replies unapologetically. “Just had to make sure. Plus, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
Azzi smirks against her mouth. “’I go crazy thinking about you with anyone but me,’” she mimics in a high pitched tone.
“Who you tryna be?” Paige grumbles, but there’s no heat in her voice.
⋆⑅˚₊ v. don’t blame me - i get so high, oh, every time you’re loving me
“It’s too early in the goddamn morning for you to be cheesin like this,” Nika complains as they stretch out on the cold floor of the gym.
Paige grabs her foot and leans toward it, shaking out the stiffness in her hamstrings and calves. “You’re just jealous I got a hot date and you don’t,” she responds, unable to take the grin off her face.
Nika grimaces. “Please never say that ever again.”
“Who’s this hot date?” Azzi plops down next to them, her thigh brushing Paige’s as she extends her knee, and Paige shivers.
Nika mimes putting a finger down her throat, and Paige waves her off. “Only the prettiest girl in the world," she says, not giving a shit about how cheesy the words coming out of her mouth sound.
Azzi wrinkles her nose, but her eyes shine with affection. “Have I told you you’re stupid?” She slides her hand over Paige’s, giving it a quick squeeze before moving it as quickly as it came.
“Only a couple of times.” Paige takes a swift search around for prying eyes before leaning in close to Azzi. “Just to be clear,” she whispers, “you like me? Like, like like me?”
“I feel like we're in middle school again, but to answer your question, last I heard of, yeah,” Azzi says, a smile threatening her lips. “Unless anything has changed since ten hours ago?”
“Nahh, nothin.” Paige gives Azzi’s earlobe a quick nip. “'Cept for the fact that I’m nervous as hell thinking about tonight.”
Azzi giggles at the ticklish feeling before CD steps into the gym, clapping her hands and directing the girls to start warming up. Paige sends her a wink before jogging to the front to take charge.
⋆⑅˚₊
They’re the last ones in the locker room, and Paige waits only a few seconds after the last of their teammates leave before she’s pushing Azzi against the wall and and kissing her. Paige’s cheeks are flushed and rosy from practice, hair coming loose from her bun and wild strands framing her face, and Azzi drinks it all in.
“Look so fuckin good just practicing, it’s unfair,” Paige mumbles in breaths, unable to keep her mouth away from Azzi’s for too long. Her hand wanders down Azzi’s back, fisting up her jersey to stroke the bare softness of her waist before trailing down to cup the swell of her ass. She squeezes hard, and Azzi moans into her mouth, a little breathy sound that drives Paige absolutely feral. It’s only when a door bangs outside that they realize how incriminating they’d look if someone walked in, and they separate, gasping.
“We should probably go,” Azzi breathes out, unable to take her eyes off the swollen wetness of her best friend’s lips.
“Probably,” Paige agrees. Then she takes off her jersey, movements slow and sensual. Her shirt rides up in the process, giving Azzi a glimpse of milky white skin and muscled abs, and Azzi really can’t blame herself for what she does next, not when Paige looks like that.
⋆⑅˚₊ vi. new year’s day - but i stay when you’re lost and i’m scared and you’re turning away
August 2025
Paige wakes up to three missed phone calls. She’s only able to swipe up and see that they’re all from Azzi before her phone immediately dies. She curses. Worst fucking timing in the world. She rushes to plug her charger in, tapping the black screen aggressively as if it’ll make it turn on any after. Her head still pounds from the chaos of the night before, her mouth dry and gross. She’s not sure if she even brushed her teeth after coming home from the club, the way her breath still stinks of alcohol.
She thinks about finally getting up to take or shower or do anything that’ll make her feel less disgusting but then finally, finally, her phone comes back to life. Her hearts starts pounding harder when she’d realized she’d missed not just three calls, but a series of texts.
11:45 PM
Missed call from Azzi
Missed call from Azzi
Azzi: hey u good?
Azzi: lmk if u need a minute
11:58 PM
Azzi: lmao did u forget
12:10 AM
Missed call from Azzi
Azzi: seriously paige
Azzi: at the fucking club again
12:22 AM
Azzi: call me when ur up
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Paige squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t even really remember last night—it’s a blur of hazy smoke, one too many shots, and bassy music thumping so loud she swore her eardrums almost burst. But after the win at home, that much needed win, when the team had started making plans to celebrate, Arike promising that drinks were on her, she’d told Azzi that she needed to cancel their previously scheduled Facetime for that night. Didn’t she?
She scrolls down, heart ricocheting in her chest when she sees the unsent text in her message bar. She must have exited it out or closed her phone before she could’ve pressed send. Cursing under her breath, Paige slides on her glasses and calls Azzi.
The phone rings three times before it’s answered. “Hello?” Azzi’s voice comes out dry and scratchy. She sounds like she’s just woken up, or is sick, or maybe a mixture of both.
“Baby, hey.” Paige runs a hand through her hair but gives up when it gets tangled in a knot. “I’m so sorry about last night. I meant to text you and I forgot to press send and there was a ton of shit happening at once. I should’ve double checked that it sent, and I’m- I’m sorry.” Paige isn’t sure what to do but keep apologizing, but she's only greeted with silence on the other end. After a couple of beats, she says hesitantly, “Azzi?”
Her girlfriend exhales slowly on the other end, the tell-tale sign that she’s trying really hard not to lose her patience. Not a good sign. “Okay.”
“Just...okay?” Paige repeats, slightly confused at the lack of anger or really any emotion at all in her tone.
There’s rustling on the other end of the line before Azzi’s voice comes out clearer and louder. “What do you want me to say?”
“I - I don’t know. Are you mad?” Because Azzi isn’t yelling at her, or saying anything in particular, just sounds resigned, and Paige doesn’t know what to do with that. She’d rather Azzi show any kind of emotion than this. She can't read this. She can't navigate this.
“Christ, Paige, you’re so dense sometimes.”
“You have every right to be mad with me, but I don’t know, you sound—”
“You think I want to be mad at you? You think I wanna spend one of our, what, four phone calls a week arguing with you? Fuck.” There it is.
Paige rubs her temples. “I know.”
“I’m not tryna be your clingy girlfriend from home,” Azzi continues. “Trust me, I’m really fucking not. Ever since you left I’ve been trying to respect your new life, your new schedule, letting you have space to enjoy your rookie year without having to feel suffocated. But please, please tell me I’m not insane for thinking that it’s unreasonable for you to cancel a call not even for basketball, but for shit like partying at a club?” Azzi pauses. “Honestly, I feel like I’m the one initiating our conversations most of the times. It’s like you’re putting in zero effort.”
“I understand that you’re mad but it’s a little ridiculous of you to just say I never put in any effort, Azzi.” Paige has never lashed out like this, never spoken to Azzi in this tone that sounds like anger and bitterness and exasperation fighting over each other to be heard, but Azzi's words strike something deep inside of her that hurts. “You think I like being this busy, this exhausted, having this little free time to talk more than a couple of hours? Throughout everything I’ve been trying to make you feel like a priority because god, Azzi, you are, I love you so much, and it hurts that you think I’m not even trying.” Her voice chokes an embarrasing amount on the last word, and she tosses her phone on her pillow to run her hands over her face in an effort to collect herself.
“Oh, my bad, Paige. Sorry for being such a burden and an inconvenience in your busy life,” Azzi spits out bitterly.
Paige can't help but jump to her own defense. “You didn’t even wanna come down to Dallas last month when you were free. And it's not like I can go up to you. If one of is putting in less effort, Azzi, it's sure as hell not me.”
“We had pre-season workouts, Paige, you know that.”
“I also know that they’re not mandatory and it wouldn’t have killed you to missed one. You could’ve worked out with me down here.” Somewhere deep inside, Paige knows she's being unreasonable, that Azzi has never asked her to skip practice for her and so neither should she, but she remembers the hurt that had coiled in her stomach, dark and tangled, when Azzi had refused to come down for even just a couple of days after not having seen each other in almost three weeks. If it had been her, she would’ve taken the first flight, Paige thinks, and it hadn’t taken much to spiral down the rabbit-hole of doubts—that Azzi didn’t miss her the same way she did, that Azzi was perfectly fine living her life in Storrs while Paige lived hers in Dallas, that Azzi didn’t care enough about Paige to want to visit her again. And when she’d been scrolling on Tiktok, seen videos of her girlfriend with her teammates that weekend, laughing and smiling with them when it could’ve been her—the spiral had turned into something much worse in her mind.
“So you expect me to drop everything for you but when it’s your turn to actually do something, to, I don't know, call me first for once, all of a sudden you’re too busy and tired?” Azzi accuses.
“That’s not even what I said!" Paige argues. "And I don't call first because I know you always call at a set time. Why are we even keeping track of who calls who first? If we're resorting to this, what's even the point?"
“What’s the point?” Azzi’s voice trembles. “What’s the point of this relationship, you mean?”
No, no, no. “Come on, Az, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Paige pleads.
“You asked me what the point of our relationship was, Paige, don’t scramble now.”
“Because apparently you think it’s all one sided! And you’ve clearly been feeling like this for a while!” Paige swears under her breath. “How long have you been resenting me for this? Thinking that I don’t care about you, that I don’t care about us?”
“Don’t yell at me!”
“I’m not yelling!” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to get herself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down. “Az, I’m sorry about last night, okay? I really am. It won’t happen again, I swear.”
“It’s not even about last night!” Azzi explodes. “How are you still not getting that?”
Seeing the time on her watch, Paige grits her teeth. “This conversation isn’t getting anywhere and I have practice. Can we talk later?”
“It’s always later with you.” Azzi’s voice is oddly high pitched, strained as if she’s trying to hide something, and Paige realizes that she’s probably crying. Fuck. She hates this, the distance, the ease of throwing angry accusations over the phone when you can’t see their face crumble from the impact of what you've done. Azzi sniffs. “Whatever. We’ll talk after. Call me when you’re done.”
“Okay.” Paige opens her mouth to say one more thing, but the line ends before she can. Fuck. She throws her phone on the bed, but it slides off the mattress and tumbles to the ground with a smack. Picking it up, she sees two cracks running through the screen. It looks almost as ugly as she feels inside.
Perfect. It’s 7 AM and her day already sucks.
As soon as practice is over, she shoots Azzi a text.
Paige: done for the day, lmk when ur free
Read
She checks her phone for the next couple of hours, waiting for a response, but to no avail.
Paige: are u really ignoring my texts
Paige: lmfao thought we left this petty shit back in high school
Paige: u said u wanted to talk and now u don’t want to?? i really don’t know what u even want from me
Azzi calls her a couple minutes later.
“That’s how I feel,” Azzi says tightly. “That’s how I felt last night, when I stayed up until 12:30 waiting for you to call.”
“Aight, next time tell me if you’re gonna call just to pick a fight, ‘cause then I won’t fuckin pick up,” Paige fires back, and she knows before she says it that it'll just make everything worse, but shit, she's so tired of arguing, for having to walk on eggshells whenever they talk, and she knows Azzi is too. And she's been in a terrifically awful mood all day, going stir crazy at her girlfriend's lack of response to her texts; she wants to resolve it more than anything, to make everything okay again, yet it seems like Azzi is holding onto that anger for her and she doesn’t know why.
“You’re such a fucking asshole, I don’t even know why I miss you," Azzi says scathingly. "Honestly, maybe we should take a break. This clearly isn’t working.” And those words are so sudden, so heavy and unexpected, that Paige can only fall silent in response.
Breathing hard, Paige touches her cheeks. She’s never been a crier, but all of a sudden the sleeve of her sweater is damp and her vision is blurring and her head is spinning.
“Paige?” Azzi says her name softly and regretfully.
“Yeah,” she says numbly into the phone, pretending as if Azzi suggesting a break—Azzi, in effect, wanting to end things—didn't just crush everything inside of her.
A sob comes out over the line. “I - I just miss you and I just said a bunch of shit that I didn’t mean and I feel so horrible. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Paige swipes angrily at her eyes, willing the tears to stop flowing. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” Then Azzi whimpers, a small and deadly sound that pierces right through Paige’s heart, and despite everything, she just wants to reach through the phone and hold her. “I don’t wanna take a break. I love you, and I’m not used to fighting with you, and I just want you to be here.”
Paige is quiet for a moment, head swimming. “I’m sorry too. Listen, it���s late. Let’s just sleep on it and talk tomorrow, okay? When we both have clearer heads.” Paige would never call their relationship fragile, she feels like that would be a disservice to their years of fighting for each other, but it’s definitely not in a good place right now. And she's so consumed by her anger she’s not sure what might come out of her mouth if they keep going at it, and she doesn’t want to risk it.
"I love you," Azzi speaks quietly. Paige closes her eyes, turning the words over in her mind as a reminder. She loves you. You love her. That’s all that matters. "More than anything or anyone in this world, I love you."
"I know." Paige’s voice trembles. "I love you too."
The call ends, and Paige has never in her life felt this helpless; the only thing she can do from a million miles away is stare listlessly at the black screen on her phone. The two of them have always had their arguments, but it would always be resolved within a couple of days. Now, the distance makes it so much more complicated, because it had been easy—too easy to say all those things to Azzi that she really didn't mean. She supposes they both took part in it, intentionally calling instead of Facetiming so they could avoid dealing with the fallout or taking accountability by blaming it on the emotional and physical barriers separating them.
Christ. Paige reaches for the jar of melatonin on her bedside table. She's gonna need double the dose tonight.
⋆⑅˚₊
Azzi doesn't know what came over her.
Maybe it had been from the pure exhaustion of the past few months. Living in Storrs is like being surrounded by constant reminders of Paige—in Werth, in Gampel, even in her own fucking dorm. And she's always been stable and secure in their relationship, but it still hurts only being able to hear about Paige's new life without really being a part of it.
Then she'd gone and suggested a break, quite possibly the dumbest thing she's ever said, and for an agonizing second of silence over the phone, she'd been scared that Paige would agree, that Paige would say, maybe this is best for us, and end it all right then and there.
But she hadn't, and Azzi had apologized, but she knew it had done nothing to fix the impact of her words.
Which is why it's 2 AM, but she's still up, looking at flights to Los Angeles on her laptop. Paige has a game against the Sparks, and she can only stay for one day, so she's searching for tickets that will allow her to arrive right before the game and leave the early morning after.
Bingo. A last minute flight that leaves in six hours. Azzi calculates the timing in her head; the plane ride is 8 hours but LA is 3 hours behind, meaning she'll arrive at around 1 pm PST. It'll be too late by then to catch Paige before the game, and she wouldn't want to distract her anyways, so she'll have a few hours to make it to the game, watch, before hopefully having the chance to talk to Paige that night before both of them have to leave for their own cities. Azzi completes the purchase, then starts to pack her backpack.
LA is sunny and warm, and uplifts Azzi's spirits just a little. She takes an Uber to a restaurant to get some food in her stomach before taking another Uber to Crypto Arena. She wasn't able to secure a very good seat, so she pulls her hoodie tight over her head and hopes that the cameras don't see her. With red-rimmed eyes and deep bags under them, she looks worse for wear, and the last thing she wants to do is to be displayed on the big screen for everyone to see.
The first three quarters fly in a flash; Paige has a rocky start before she picks Rickea's pocket late in the second and scores, setting off her momentum for a solid 14 points by the end of the third. Azzi has always loved watching Paige play, but this is only the fourth or fifth time she's gotten to watch her girlfriend play professionally, but she's still in awe of how Paige moves so naturally on the court, already a leader on both ends despite being a rookie.
Azzi is on her phone during the break when the crowd starts to cheer. Looking up at the commotion, she fights the urge to groan when she sees herself on the screen, looking confused as hell. Contorting her face into a smile, she awkwardly waves and flashes a thumbs up before the cameras thankfully pan towards a celebrity across the arena.
Then she sees Paige, who had by some chance saw Azzi on the screen. The blonde is searching the arena, hands on her waist as her eyes sweep the crowds. Her mouth is tight, set into a firm line, body posture rigid, before one of the assistant coaches taps her on the shoulder and redirects her attention to Chris.
As soon as the game is over, Paige is walking around the court, evidently still scanning the arena for her. Knowing that the older girl doesn't have her phone, Azzi makes her way down the stairs, a task made much slower by her compression boot. Finally, she makes it down, but then she's stopped by a security guard who raises a brow at her.
"Hey, Azzi!" A familiar voice rings out, and there's Cameron, eyes bright as she makes her way through the throng of people on the court. She motions for the security guard to let her through the rope, and Azzi slips in. Wrong blonde, but still, Azzi is glad to see her.
"Cam! It's nice to see you," Azzi greets, pulling in the taller girl for a hug. "Looking good back on the court."
"Thank you, thank you." Cameron brushes off her jersey in faux humility. "Still getting used to it but it feels really good."
Azzi knows all too well what returning to the game feels like after an ACL, so she smiles sympathetically at her old friend.
"What brings you to LA?" The older girl leans in conspiratorially. "Here to see your girl?" Cameron is one of few people who'd witnessed the birth of their friendship into something more, and usually Azzi would be laughing with her, but the bleakness of it all makes her only have the strength to offer a weak smile and a "Yeah."
"Azzi." The two of them turn around and see Paige, who still looks slightly confused as she moves quickly towards the two of them. Azzi takes in her girlfriend, her hair falling apart from her bun, sweat beading on her chest and neck. Unsure of what to say or do, they look at each other for a second before Paige reaches out for a hug, both of them stiff before they fall into the familiarity of each other's arms. Azzi nuzzles her head into her girlfriend's neck, not caring that her cheeks come away damp from Paige's sweat. She'd missed Paige, terribly so.
Paige is caught up in staring at Azzi when they separate before she seemingly registers that there's a third person. "Hey, Cam," she says, dapping her up.
"Paige," Cameron pats her on the back. "Gave us hell tonight." Paige chuckles, and the two players pull apart, but Paige's gaze quickly returns to examining Azzi. Cameron looks between the two of them, observant as ever, and raises an eyebrow at the tension she senses hanging in the air. "Oookay. Well, I gotta go now, but it was nice seeing the both of you. Enjoy LA, Azzi. Good game, P."
"Yeah, you too," Paige says distractedly. "It's nice having you back on the court."
Then Paige and Azzi are alone, but not really alone because they're surrounded by athletes and media and fans and more than a couple of cameras pointed at them. Paige seems to pick up on the cameras too, when she reaches for Azzi's hand, then draws back, overthinking her actions. "Let's, uh, go to my car?" she suggests. "We can talk?"
Azzi nods, and they fall into step back to the locker room. They're silent as they walk, neither really knowing what to say, until a familiar curly-headed face intercepts them in the hall. "Paige," Rae Burrell intones, a smirk on her face, "Nice to see you." Azzi immediately tenses up, slowing down in her steps, but Paige's hand moves to the small of her back, a quiet reassurance, as she guides them along, trying to move past the Spark. "Rae," she acknowledges with a mere nod.
"Azzi, fancy seeing you here. How you doing?" Rae asks, all sugar and sweetness as she starts walking beside them.
"Just peachy," Azzi drawls. Her hand lands meaningfully on Paige's bicep, firm and smooth under her hand, and she draws her girlfriend closer. Paige wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her temple without even sparing a glance at Rae, and even though there's a million things they need to work through, though apologies are needed and solutions must be made, Azzi knows that through it all, they are the surest thing in the world.
Finally getting the hint, Rae nods. "Alright, see y'all around," she mutters, an ugly frown on her face as she ducks into a side room.
"She doesn't give up, does she?" Azzi grumbles, hand falling from Paige's arm when she realizes that the older girl is likely still angry from last night. But Paige grabs her hand and brings it back, an apology that's silent and the first of many, and squeezes her closer.
"No, she doesn't," Paige affirms. They've reached the locker room, and Paige lingers for a moment before going inside. She pulls Azzi in by the waist and presses their foreheads together. "I'm really glad you're here."
"Only for today," Azzi says, and disappointment fills Paige's eyes before the events of the night before flash in her mind. "It's good," the older girl responds gently. "You're traveling sixteen hours just to be here for a few, and I appreciate it."
"I'm sorry," Azzi says, the apology tumbling out of her mouth. The need for Paige to know how much she regrets everything is too much to bear, and she starts to continue apologizing, but she's shut up by Paige's mouth suddenly on hers, moving softly, intentionally, urgently, perfectly. Her lips are so, so soft, and Azzi has missed this so bad.
Paige gives her one last kiss, forceful and emphatic, before looking at her, soft and sweet. Azzi exhales. They're gonna be okay.
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archangeldyke-all · 1 year ago
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ever since you posted pregnant sev a few days ago it’s all i’ve been thinking about… could we maybe get another lactation kink with sev but she’s the one lactating this time??? thank you and your beautiful brain…
anon reveal yourself so i can marry you for this...
men and minors dni
you quietly pad down the hallway. all three of your girls are finally asleep, and you really don't want to wake them again on a creaky floorboard.
sevika chuckles from her spot on the couch when she watches you come slowly, carefully tipetoeing out into the living room.
"i think they're down for the night." you whisper as you crawl onto the couch and nuzzle into her side.
sevika hums, wrapping her arms around you. you start a gentle trail of kisses down her neck, no real destination in mind, just enjoying the way she's melting into the couch at your touch.
quickies have become the status quo for you and sevika with three kids running around. but every night, you and sevika will do this. just... lay on the couch together, holding one another for about an hour-- nothing on the tv, no music, just you two.
sometimes, like now, you kiss. sometimes you gossip and laugh and chat. most nights though, it's just the two of you humming happily as you soak in the feeling of one another after a long day.
sevika sighs underneath you and pinches your hip. "we're gonna have to readjust. i gotta pump and dump-- silco talked me into a drink at lunch, and my tits are killing me." she says.
you giggle and kiss her cheek before getting up. "i'll get it. stay here."
the kitchen is a mess, you'll have to talk sevika into helping you tackle the dishes after your cuddle session. you start now, gathering and stacking dishes by the sink, starting a hot water soak on the nasty looking ones.
you find the breast pump in a mixing bowl with leftover waffle batter scraped on the sides. sevika must've tossed her pump in it after pumping this morning at breakfast.
"baby." you huff as you walk back into the living room. sevika nods up at you. "your pump's dirty. gotta wash and sanitize it. come talk with me in the kitchen." you request.
sevika pouts and kicks her foot a bit. "i want my cuddles." she whines.
you grin. "you're spending too much time with the kids." sevika rolls her eyes and makes grabby hands for you. you snort as you crawl back on top of your wife. she winces a bit as you settle down on top of her tits, and you try your best not to put too much pressure on them.
sevika's tits have always been shockingly sensitive, in both good and bad ways. good, like you can make her cum with a few well placed kisses, sucks and pinches on her nipples. bad, like her tits are always killing her on her period, and when one of the twins bites while they're eating, sevika nearly passes out in pain.
"fuck, i'm sore." sevika huffs.
you pout, reaching your hands under your wife's back to unclasp her bra for her. she sighs in relief, and you settle back on top of her. it's quiet for a few minutes, your breaths becoming synchronized, sevika's hands tracing patterns on your back.
then, sevika starts to squirm a bit. her heartbeat picks up in her chest, you can hear it where you're resting your head against her. her breath gets just a little shaky, and when she gulps, you finally look down at your wife with a teasing glance. "you okay?"
sevika's got a pretty blush on her cheeks. "uh." she whispers. you raise an eyebrow at her and she huffs. "remember when you had the little fucker?" she asks.
you snort and nod. "yeah something about that rings a bell..." you tease. sevika pinches your ass and you giggle.
"r-remember how..." she trails off.
"how?"
"how when you'd get clogged or sore or too full of milk i'd..."
you grin down at your wife, and she shivers at the sight. "you want me to take care of you baby?" you ask, already unbuttoning her shirt.
sevika's gulp echoes through the silent house, and she nods, clenching the cushions under her. "please?" she whispers.
you groan, swooping down to kiss your wife as you tear her shirt open and help her take her bra off her arms.
sevika's tits have grown a few cup sizes since the babies' arrival, and right now they're even more swollen. "fuck." you whisper.
you reach up and take her tits in your hands, gently pushing them together. sevika's legs twine around your hips and pull your clothed crotch against hers. you watch in fascination as a single bead of milk forms on her nipple, then slides down her tit onto your hand.
"how quick do you think you'll cum?" you ask, pinching her nipple and giggling as a little stream of milk spurts out and lands on your shirt. sevika whimpers.
"fuck off, would you just--" sevika thrusts her chest up closer to you.
you grin. "how long have you been thinking about me doing this to you, love?" you ask.
sevika's face goes bright red, and she slings a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you down to her chest as her response.
you just laugh as you suck her nipple into her mouth, both of you moaning as she starts to leak onto your tongue.
fuck she tastes good. her milk is sweet, and the sounds she's letting out are even sweeter. she's got her arms wrapped around you like a koala, clinging onto you, a hand in your hair, the other tangled in your shirt.
each time you let a tiny grunt or moan out against her tits, sevika squeaks. when you start swirling your tongue around her nipple, she starts grinding against your cunt.
and when you reach up with your free hand to grop her other tit roughly, sevika has to stuff her fist in her mouth to muffle her orgasm.
her milk starts to slow down, so you switch tits, massaging the one you'd just abandoned, making a fucking mess of your hand and her chest and the couch-- but you're both way too far gone to give a shit about that now.
"baby." sevika growls. you gently graze your teeth over her nipple and she pulls your hair harshly. "fuck!" she cries. you moan, nuzzling even harder against her tit, lapping up every drop of her that you can. you're about two seconds from cumming in your pants, and when sevika whispers "wanted this since i first did it to you," you do.
she giggles a bit as you fall apart, but with the way you muffle your grunts and moans against her, she can't get more than a few laughs out before she's moaning and cumming again.
when you pull away to gasp in a breath of air, you almost pass out at how fucking hot sevika looks underneath you.
soaked in her own milk and your drool, her tits aren't quite as plump as they were before, but her nipples are engorged. she's heaving for air, and she's red from her cheeks to her collarbone.
"fuck, sev, look at you."
"you're doing that to me every time i need to pump and dump from now on." she sighs happily, blinking up at you with stars in her eyes.
you snort and kiss her. "you've got yourself a fuckin' deal, baby. now; you wanna do the dishes or clean the couch?"
sevika whines like a child again, and you kiss her just to shut her up.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen
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wannaeatramyeon · 9 months ago
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Meeting Olly Wang for the First Time: Influence
G/N. Sort of soft. I did it anon!! Masterlists
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In hindsight you could have been considered a bad influence except you felt bad for him. You like to think that you showed Olly Wang there was more to life than studying, there are some things that can't be taught through textbooks.
You taught him how to live, you gave him room to breathe.
But sometimes, when the nights are too silent and your brain is too loud, when you miss him so much it hurts, you would think that it was all your fault. You set him on this path.
It's stupid, of course. Your minor risk-taking and vices are nothing compared to what has happened since.
Still, it eats away at you.
.
.
It's entirely by chance that you meet.
You're not particularly studious, but empty pockets and a meagre allowance accompanied with bad weather means your options are limited.
In the library, tucked away in the corner is a boy.
Trying his best to read and study yet annoying teenagers continue to heckle him. Throwing balled up pieces of paper and calling out derisive comments.
"Fuck off," you snap, feeling kind hearted today and storming over. You drag one of them away by the hair.
"Hey! Get off-" He tries to wiggle out of your grasp.
"Leave him alone, assholes," you snarl, shoving him away.
The commotion is finally enough to draw the attention of the staff.
The teens are shooed out, throwing angry daggers your way.
"You're welcome by the way," You tell the boy in the corner and you think he mutters something about being able to take them on himself.
Narrowing your eyes, you yank his ear, "What did you just say?"
When he doesn't react, you let go. Huh?
He doesn't feel pain, he tells you, or to be honest, anything. And then when you continue glaring at him thinking that that's bullshit, he introduces himself as Olly Wang.
.
.
The first time he ditches class, as a middle-schooler, is with you. Just two kids wandering the streets of Gangdong. You, used to skipping the occasional days and class, and embracing freedom, while Olly fidgets next you.
His mouth, usually stretched too wide in a grin, is pulled down at the corners. Tense eyes behind glasses anxiously flickers from side to side.
"You think your parents are going to catch you?" You tease, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
"No." Olly doesn't sound convinced and you sigh.
"So what do you want to do?"
"Me?" he asks, blinking owlishly as if that's the first time someone has ever asked him that question.
You shrug off his weird response. "We can go the park. Shopping. Not that I have any money. Arcade-"
"Arcade!" he pipes up, then cowering and furtively glancing around him in case his parents are actually around.
Nevertheless, he spends hours and hours by your side; fighting each other, killing zombies, and racing cars. The sound of 8-bit music and bright flashing lights soon drown out his fears.
That day, Olly smiles genuinely along with you.
.
.
You first hear about Eli Jang a few weeks later.
Apparently he's fallen in with a new group of friends and this guy is the coolest person he has ever seen.
He's an orphan, he does whatever he want.
"Ok," you deadpan to each fact about this Eli Jang, growing more bored by the second.
Olly, oblivious to your reaction, continues fawning over him.
.
.
"Here, try it,"
You only offered the cigarette to stop him talking about Eli Jang. You've lost count of the times you've rolled your eyes.
Olly pauses, torn between wanting to impress you and not wanting to inhale the nasty smoke.
He gives in when he sees the playful glint in your eyes. His finger brushes yours as you pass it to him, and he places his lips where yours were just mere seconds ago.
"ACK!"
You giggle to yourself watching Olly hacking and sputtering.
You reach out to ruffle his hair once he calms and he peeks at you feeling his throat and cheeks burn.
.
.
"Why do you want to be like Eli?" you side-eye Olly, interrupting his ranting.
"I-" Olly starts, and then finds he can't say the words in your presence. He thinks Eli is the only one that makes him feel something but-
Deep down, when he's with you, he's not sure that's entirely true.
You misread his pause for something else.
You shrug, "I like you as you are."
.
.
"Want some?" you ask, shaking the bottle of soju at him.
Olly bites his lip, "Eli wouldn't-"
"Ugh!" You cut in rudely. "I've never met the guy and I feel like I know everything about him. Will you shut up about Eli?"
"But Eli-"
"I said shut up," you pull him by his stupid collar and yank his stupid lips to yours.
You consider blaming your actions on the alcohol even though you've barely taken a sip.
Olly stares at you, dazed, but there's a fire in his eyes.
"Ok." He agrees, then adds as he adjusts his glasses. "Only if you'll do that again."
You raise your eyebrows at his audacity. At this strange boy who was tucked away in the corner of the library.
"I thought you said you couldn't feel anything?"
Olly gives you a grin, different from his trademark open-mouthed one. It's almost a smirk. His gaze meets yours, determined and unwavering.
"I think I might have felt something then."
You lean in, at the same time as he does, meeting him halfway and kissing him again.
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strawberryama · 1 year ago
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His balls are huge. I can feel it in my soul!!
i say this too much so here we are besties
content : fem!reader x rook, ball sucking, public sex, library sex, cum swallowing, slight shoe humping mentions
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18+ Minors dni!!!
“I can’t believe I’m even asking this…but do tell, how are you undoubtedly certain?”
“I just know it. I have that kind of sense, ya know?”
Cater could only roll his eyes. There was no way this conversation was happening right now. In front of his lunch no less. Thank god lunch was nearly over, cause he couldn’t eat anymore. Not after hearing about how _______ was dead certain her crush, the vice housewarden of Pomefiore, had huge breeder balls. He didn’t even want to think about that guy naked. Yet, this was the current lunch topic, as Trey was busy this afternoon.
“That’s…great. Can I please eat in peace?”
______ turned to her friend, watermelon chunk on her fork. She’d been eating this entire time. It was as if the conversation topic was just something as casual as homework answers to her. She completely unphased. ______ bit down on the watermelon, shrugging to the guy before her.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Cater groaned.
“What?!”
“Nothing. Just forget it! I’m going to the library for study hall, early.”
“I’ll come with then!”
Cater only groaned once more as he stood up, grabbing his tray. “If you’re coming, then no more nasty discussion, ‘kay? I gotta study or Riddle’ll kill me.”
“Aye, aye!”
-
-
-
______ stayed true to her word. She even was actively studying alongside of Cater. She went looking for a book though, deep in the stacks. Sometimes potions class was a pain in the butt. There were so many cryptic ingredients that she knew next to nothing about.
The only issue was every damn book that explained those ingredients was up on the highest shelf. God forbid this school have accessible shelves. No, ofc ourse, they need to have six foot and then some tall shelves.
As she reached and stretched the best she could, she felt a broad, strong mass press into her. A hand came up, gracefully pulling the book she required from the shelf.
“Here you are,” mused a voice.
______turned to look over her shoulder, and none other than Rook Hunt stood there, pressed into her. He didn’t back up at all. Rook grinned down to ______, his free hand coming to grab her waist, rooting her there.
“Madame, how good to see you!~”
“You too, Rook,” she sheepishly smiled. She could feel her cheeks burning. Fuck. He was hot. His eyes pierced right through her like an arrow.
“You know, a lil birdie told me something.”
“O-Oh yeah?”
“You have a hypothesis about a specific part of my body is what I heard at lunch.”
“I!”
“It’s okay. You’re more than welcome to find out.”
At this, ______ felt something long and hard press into her ass. She was burning up and she was growing wet. She was going to get to see the Rook Hunt’s cock and fat, fat balls. She wasdrooling at the thought.
“May I?” she asked all too eager.
“Please, go right ahead”
-
-
-
Her eyes rolled right back into her head as she sucked on his fat balls. They felt sooo good in her mouth. She drooled all over them, salivating at the heady scent and taste she consumed. ______ could barely even stifle the obscene noises that she made. Let alone, the moan that she let out about the testicle that filled her mouth.
“Good girl,” Rook drawled. His hand grabbed a fistful of ______’s hair, pulling her in further, causing her to gag.
______ was thoroughly enjoying herself now. Her pussy smeared its juice all over Rook’s boot as she rubbed her clit desperate for any friction. Spit was dribbling down her chin. She was in ecstasy. A true dream. Finally, a pair of huge, fat balls full of hot, white cum. And they were all her’s. No one else’s.
Rook threw back his head against the bookshelf, hat dropping from his head. She was good at this, far better than he’d imagined she’d be when he overheard her at lunch. And the absolute messy display of a whore before him was hotter than hell. In fact, Rook may have just found his new favorite toy. And it was better than bothering that prefect of Savanaclaw could ever be.
Rook’s balls began tightening and he bucked into ______ more fervently than before. Her hand reached up, gently teasing at the head of Rook’s fat cock, urging it to cum all over her. Her thumb circled about the slit in his cock, spreading the precum that leaked out. All the while, her hand rubbed and squeezed what she could reach, daring Rook to let go. Daring him to cum and make a mess just for her.
Through hooded, lust fulled eyes, Rook saw the devious wanton look in ______’s eyes. God, she’s a goddess, he could only think. He yanked her off of his pulsating balls, posing his cock’s head before her lips before she could whine in complaint.
“Princeese, take it nice and deep,” he commanded in a shaky breath. But ______ didn’t need any instructions. Rook barely finished his sentence, before ______ began to suck on the tip of his cock.
She moaned, teasing him, with each inch she’d swallow up. Her tight throat constricted about Rook’s sensitive cock.
He couldn’t hold out any longer. His grip on her hair tightened, burying the last few centimeters of his cock in ______’s mouth. With a deep grunt, Rook keeled in on himself, shooting hot cum down ______’s throat. Those emerald eyes rolled back as he stifled a groan, his cock scraping against her uvula.
But ______ didn’t even flinch. She drank every drop of his hot salty cum, a dazed grin forming as she pulled herself off him. ______ gently licked off any remaining cum that dared to escape before grinning up at him mischievously.
“It seems my hypothesis was correct,” she snickered, placing his fallen hat upon her head.
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marielle555 · 24 days ago
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Astarion's choice, his emotions, his aspirations, and his dependence on Tav's decision.
UA fans periodically try to convince that crying is normal, it's a natural human reaction, etc. As an explanation for the painful scene of abandoning the Ascension ritual. I've come across this sometimes, even once in one of the debates with UA somewhere on the vastness of youtube. Such attempts to “teach the plain truths”. As if someone is saying that tears are bad or denying the manifestation of emotions. In general, emotions cannot be “good” or “bad”, any emotion is natural. Tears, fear, anger, joy, elation - all these are natural human reactions. And it is impossible to evaluate whether it is “good” or “bad” for a particular person without knowing the situation, without knowing the context, without knowing what caused these emotions. Just like the claims that AA uses a “mask of anger”. First of all, in my playthrough Astarion never once showed anger, a little grumbling in Act 1 and, sometimes, silent disapproval of certain actions, which are later compensated by approval of something else, and, after Ascension - even more so, he showed only love, affection and playfulness. Anger is not a mask, anger is a natural reaction, as natural as tears. Anger is a natural emotional response to injustice. Anger signals that our boundaries have been violated, our needs have been ignored, or a situation is contrary to our expectations. It is a natural reaction that helps us to protect ourselves and our interests, and to restore justice. Evolutionarily, anger helped us survive by mobilizing the body to defend or fight. And while anger and aggression are often linked, anger does not always lead to aggression (as in Astarion's case, he is not being aggressive towards a toxic partner, only expressing anger). There are plenty of insulting lines of dialog toward him, especially after he Ascended, and experiencing anger in response to a bitchy line like “You're like Cazador” (a trigger insult - comparing a survivor to his tormentor) is perfectly natural. UA fans justify the Tav-abuser by calling this trigger insult “talking about his past, talking about Cazador,” which Astarion supposedly snaps back and pounces on.
They say it signals his insecurity. His emotions are signaling his pain at this moment, for one simple reason - he is being hurt by someone close to him, the one person he loves and has begun to trust. Even the most confident man (and Astarion has a deep trauma that cannot be healed in an instant), a man who can confidently and gladly send any stranger away if necessary, will still be deeply hurt if the blow comes from someone loved and close, there is no confidence that is capable of protecting the heart from such blows. A person, who suppresses anger, also risks cardiovascular disease, as well as a person, who suppresses tears, and in addition, also risks becoming a victim who will be used by others, because they will allow others to do injustice to them (“if you are always white and fluffy, they will make a fur coat out of you” (c) folk wisdom). In EA, Astarion also expresses anger when Tav insults him (an extremely nasty insult and also referring to Cazador ), he responds: "There has to be a way you know what, separates us from animals - choice. I choose to travel with you, a dog would do it on instant to fulfill, a need. Disrespect me again and I won't choose to kill you. I'll do it on instinct to fulfill my need to hear you scream."
Astarion - Angry and scared(compilation) (2.53)
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Yes, killing Cazador is cathartic in itself. Absolutely. You can't help but feel catharsis killing someone, who tortured Astarion for 200 years. And then what? Astarion mourns what was stolen? Exactly. Taken forever. Everything. There's no getting anything back, no more “Unmaking what you made me.” Astarion will forever be what Cazador did to him. Maybe someday, in the future, he'll have the chance to change things and see the sun again. And he will never miss it again, as he says in his Unascended Epilogue. Or maybe he won't. "Hope is the world's most tenacious creature. Everyone will die, but she will wait to be the last to die." (Henry Lyon Oldie) Personally, I prefer not to rely on illusions, but to be given the opportunity to see any situation for what it is. With the most unpalatable facts and without any hope. Because the more information known, the better plan of action can be made. And act. Of course, this is just me, and if hope helps someone instead of blinding them, that's fine, everyone is different.
But Astarion also prefers to act rather than hope. Yes, he has no way to decide his fate and has to desperately hope for Tav's help (“I can do this, but I need your help”). Before that, he talks more than once about how he wants the power of this ritual for himself. He strives for this opportunity as soon as he learns of it. And he's doing everything he can to live the life he wants to live, to get back what was taken from him. "And I want to live a full life! Not some half existence, hiding in the shadows for the rest of eternity."
Astarion wants to Ascend and plans to do so as soon as he learns of the opportunity. Those who claim that this decision is “momentary,” “emotionally charged,” or find other words to devalue his desire, either don't know enough about the plot or didn't give Astarion the opportunity to learn all the information about the ritual beforehand in their playthroughs. Astarion goes to great lengths to read the Necromancy of Thay. Then, when we learn about the Ascension ritual from Raphael, Astarion wants to read the book in its entirety, to find the information. And learns all he needs when we find “The Tharchiate Codex”, the key to the knowledge of the Necromancy of Thay. Astarion finds the description of the ritual in the Necromancy of Thay, which he talks about after he's read the last page. And the Ascension ritual is no “way of the Cazador”, it's an existing ritual without any Cazador. Here is the original Rite of Ascension:
The Rite of Profane Ascension
"A ritual spell which allows a Vampire to become a 'Vampire Ascendant', a greatly enhanced form of vampire with all of a normal vampire's weaknesses and none of their strengths. The original form of the ritual is rumoured to have been developed by Nyressa Flass, a Vampire Lord who was a zulkhir of Thay in the 12th century DR. However, the only known written form of the spell in existence was in The Necromancy of Thay, which is known to have been written by the lich Zhengyi the Witch King, a servant of the Demon Prince Orcus. When the Necromancy was stollen by Ilyn Toth, and subsequently lost for a century following the destruction of Moonhaven, Cazador Szarr made a pact with the Archdevil Mephistopheles for knowledge of the ritual. However, the text provided to Cazador differed in several significant ways from that recorded in the Necromancy. Mephistopheles ammended the ritual so that it created two new monsters - a Vampire Ascendant, and a Succubus Ascendant, as part of his ongoing to struggle with the Archdevil Asmodeus, who was supported in his possition as the most powerful being in the Nine Hells by Malcanthet, the Queen of Succubi. The ritual draw on alchemical principles, and requires seven primary sacrifices, each of whom must provide 999 souls for the ritual, as well as the soul of a child of the prospective ascendant's bloodline. Additionally, ritual scarring, an incantation, and complex necromantic sigils in the ritual space were required. In the Mephistian version, the child was required to be a girl, and she was required to complete specific rituals to become a worthy sacrifice."
In that case, we go the way of Nyressa Flass - she designed the ritual, Cazador merely contracted to know it. Cazador is vastly overrated, in my opinion. If you use something your enemy wanted to get themselves, there's no way it can “turn” you into them.
In Cazador's palace itself, Astarion finds the Vellioth scrolls. Astarion is a former magistrate, and he is perfectly capable of understanding the terms of the devil's contract (in Astarion Origins, he draws on his past knowledge to offer Wyll help in finding loopholes in the contract with Mizora).
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Astarion knows the exact terms of the contract, we find a scroll with a description:
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“The Rite of Profane Ascension
Oh, piteous dead! Oh, ravenous dead!
Immortality is your gift, but darkness is your prison and hunger its gaoler.
The Rite of Profane Ascension will release you. Walk in the sun. Suffer not from hunger. Grow your power beyond anything you imagined.
A pact has been made with the Lord of Hellfire. Deliver unto him seven thousand souls, each bearing an Infernal mark, and you shall be free of your chains. You shall know true power.
Deliver the souls.
Speak the words.
Ecce dominus,
Has animas offero in sacrificio,
Nunc volo potestatem quam pollicitus es mihi.”
When Tav asks Astarion, "Didn't you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed." Astarion replies with complete confidence: “Trust me, I know what I'm doing.”
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He looks genuinely confident in this moment, he knows what he is doing. The uncertainty, pain, and doubt are only apparent when Astarion asks about Tav's motives (“I'll be free - truly, completely free. Isn't that what you want?”).
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And notice how Astarion strives for power - throughout the game, and before he learned of the ritual. That said, almost every line he speaks has the idea that this power is something you'll enjoy together.
After the biting scene: “And look what you've gained. Together we can take on the world.”
Tadpole - Astarion wants to take advantage of the powers he gives:
“No, these tadpoles are a gift I intend to use to the fullest. You should do the same.”
In general, the significance of the tadpole for Astarion is very great - the tadpole revitalized his body, Astarion stopped being undead.
“Excuse me? Since this tadpole, I'm barely a monster at all.”
“If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows.”
Cazador's death would certainly free him of his worst threat, but there's no way to get his life back without the ritual - losing the tadpole would make him undead again, back in the shadows. He'll never have even that:
“It's... me. The ritual gave me back my reflection - after all these years...
Hello again. Gods, I missed you.”
Further on Astarion's pursuit of power:
“You know, I feel a connection between us. Like we're two souls walking the same path. Whoever's waiting for us at Moonrise Towers controls it all. But if we can take that control from them, imagine the power we'd wield. Imagine, the entire cult under our thumb. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and enjoy a little world domination on the side.”
When Astarion learns of the opportunity to perform the ritual: “This may be a beginning, not an end. I can see myself now. Lord, King, Master. We'll be glorious both, you and I. You'll have your day, too.”
“We have to face him and take that power for ourselves. Technically only I will ascend and gain the ritual's power. But we're a team. If I become all-powerful, then we become all-powerful. Nothing would make me happier.”
"'We aren't like them. We are better." (after the spawns attack at the camp, Astarion seems to already see Tav as his Bride). "To make sure we're both safe. Forever, for good" And he already now, even before the ritual, wants to be together forever.
Note the same “we”, “us” that Astarion constantly uses in relation to the consort after the Ascension. Astarion needs two things to be happy in this life - freedom and power (and the ability to be cured of the affliction of the spawn state) and the only person close by - his beloved, with whom he is very eager to share it. After the Ascension, this story has a natural progression:
After defeating Gur: “Hah! Oh that was very, very satisfying. Who better to test these new powers on? And who better to be standing by my side than you, who helped me get them?”
Convinces you to become a vampire: “You're the one that I want - the one that I love.”
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”And you could be so much more, if you want it.” “We could be together for eternity, ruling this world side by side. We could have it all.”
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After a night of conversion: “First we'll take Baldur's Gate. Then we'll take the world. We'll dominate it until the sun itself melts, and then we'll give ourselves to the night.”
The rejection of Ascension after a detailed examination of Astarion's storyline already looks like a contradiction of his entire storyline. As wanting him to be different, not who he wanted to be and who he is. In the scene in the graveyard, Astarion seems somehow broken and unnatural, as if he doesn't know what to do in that moment. What he wanted, what he planned - his dream of life is no longer possible. He says he is reevaluating his desires, meaning that he originally wanted something different? He's coping. Maybe that's why I personally, even on my first playthrough, without even reading the diary or spoiler the ending yet, felt the sorrow in the graveyard scene as something on an intuitive level.
Tears when you realize that you will never get what you wanted, you will never get back what was stolen from you, only those who benefit from it will call these tears healthy. Those who benefit from that person staying in that particular state for one reason or another. Healthy tears, healing tears could be when nothing bad is happening at the moment, for example, if there was a dialog between Astarion and Tav, in which he told something, and then cried in Tav's arms, - then those would be tears that relieve past pain and then it would be a completely different conversation.
About the so-called “friends” (supposedly the Unascended Astarion "chooses" “friendship and love”) - just compare their lines at the moment when they are against the Ascension of Astarion (“ah-ah, it's not worth it”, as if they dare to decide what's worth it, it's not up to them to stay a vampire spawn forever, “ahhhhh, how many victims”) and their lines after you decide not to let 7000 spawns go free and take away their right to live just because you're ‘good’ (well, for the safety of humans, it's understandable), they'll “applaud” and actively approve. Just so long as you don't give anything to Astarion.
“You can also see it from party comments if you choose to immediately betray him after thd ritual by siding with the Gur to kill him. The companions will say things about how he was dangerous, evil, cruel, etc etc. Immediately after the ritual. Before you've even left the building. Before he has had any time to do or say more-evil things at all.” “He can ascend and say "holy shit this is awesome" and walk 2 feet down the hallway and get attacked, and in that tiny period of time between ascention and Gur fight, everyone in the party (aside from Minthara lol) just arbitrarily decides that he's The Ultimate Evil.”© quote from a @murderenjoyer
They will lick their “leader's” ass with all their might, saying how “right” it was. When Astarion could only feel happy that he no longer felt hunger and was now completely free and stepped out of the room a couple of steps and nothing else so “evil” he didn't have time to do. Minthara is the only decent person among this whole coterie of hypocrites.
It seems that the ugly mocking lines of the companions in the docks scene, which were fixed in patch 7, actually showed the true nature of these “friends” better and more honestly. It would be interesting to take any neutral person off the street, outline the situation to them, and ask them if they would choose to have such “love” and such “friends” for themselves? At the cost of physical suffering and “restrictions”? Or would an objectively neutral person, putting themselves in this place, prefer quality to quantity and choose instead of such “friends” one partner who is ready to fight for them, to be always on their side, who cares about them and their well-being, not about their own “white gloves”, and who loves them and accepts them as they are (“So that you see him at his most terrible, and it's completely honest and he doesn't have to pretend anymore.”)? Well, sure, this hypothetical person may be a lover of having a large number of acquaintances, and not want too deep a bond with any one person, but here's Astarion himself… Astarion himself has absolutely no need for any of these “friends”, or anyone but his beloved. "I have one person who trust me completely. That's enough for me." Astarion doesn't need friendship too much, yes he appreciates it, but he needs love, trust and acceptance much more. Trust is very important to Astarion, and after Ascension, Astarion gets that and begins to truly, deeply, trust Tav himself.
“You are so beautiful... And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you for trusting me.”
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UA never fully begins to trust Tav, in a dialogue in the epilogue he's afraid Tav will leave him. And he shows anger if Tav abandons him (what, also a “mask of anger”?) by talking about what he sacrificed for them: "How dare you! After all I've done for you - after everything I've sacrificed!" And what he sacrificed for them was the opportunity to feel alive, the opportunity to feel “That ache in my stomach, that hunger - it's gone,” the opportunity to feel his heart beating again, the opportunity to see the sun again, to live life to the fullest, the opportunity to “Finally having a life that's worth living.” There is only one line in the UA romance that defines the relationship, "Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person who I truly care for." First, it feels a certain amount of passive aggression (“Nothing special, of course” is a joke, but every joke has some truth in it). And here - every time “Nothing special, of course” and it's the only line that defines the relationship. And not a word about love, only about “care”. Ascended Astarion defines relationships in four emotionally powerful lines:
“Aeterna Amantes. Lovers forever, until the world falls down."
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Eternal lovers. Forever. Seriously.
“We are sovereigns. My sole endeavour is to make this world yours and mine alone."
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We're together. Everything is for you. Astarion first says “to make this world yours” (“Ask me anything, and it will be yours.”) and only then “mine”.
"My pretty consort, I don't like to see doubt cast upon your face. Fear not: you are mine."
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“I will never betray you or leave you, I will always be with you.”
"Seven thousand souls have given me the power to carve out my own future, and I want you to be part of it."
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This line expresses Astarion's two main desires - to be able to determine his own future, to be truly free, to have unbreakable autonomy. And the desire for his beloved to be by his side, to be part of that future. Resonating with "I already have everything. Except you by my side."
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The desire to have the beloved by his side, forever, is his first desire, his first need, after he has finally gained his freedom. “Everything I want is standing right here.” - at the party in the epilogue. "I may have power, but it would be nothing without you. You complete me."
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And it's all serious. There is no belittling of feelings, no mask, no embarrassment. No masks, no acting. No need to hide anything behind jokes. Love and trust, already without doubt. The playfulness Astarion had already shown by saying before, “Yes, my treasure?” - An affectionate, gentle playfulness. It looks like the kind of playfulness a person shows in a good, warm relationship (his cute turn of the shoulders). And “Nothing special, of course” reminds of a teasing, when there is some hidden dissatisfaction with a partner and we don't express it directly, but we can sort of tease them and then say something else, so that there is nothing to pick on… And how often does UA say “we, us”? It seemed to me that UA mostly says “you” and ‘I’ separately.
And as a matter of fact, 7000 hungry vampire spawns let loose isn't such a “good thing” either. We're only shown poor Sebastian and the kids, but among those 7000 there are quite a few criminals (Astarion talks about this in one of the lines near the cages), those who will never be able or willing to control the hunger. There used to be a narrator's line about this as well, but it was removed in patch 5. Not all of the rescued spawns will go to the Underdark, quite a few of them will settle in the sewers and start hunting Baldur's inhabitants. This is also someone's death, someone's tears and loss. Then there's Sebastian's letter: “After you killed Cazador and opened our cells, we fled into the Underdark. There were thousands of us - a ravenous wave, mad with freedom and out for blood. And Gods, did we find blood. We swarmed every monster and unfortunate in our path, drinking what we could. We lost hundreds along the way - some to beasts, but most just disappeared into the dark.” Astarion says about them:
“These people died years ago, trust me on that. All that's left are feral spawn, desperate for blood.
If we release them, how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?”
Minthara: “If you release those ravenous starvelings, the city’s poorer quarters will be their feasthall”.
Nowhere in the game is he shown to be tormented by guilt after the ritual, Astarion very quickly forgets about them and rejoices in his newfound freedom and ability to live life to the fullest.
A lot of hungry vampire spawns is very bad for the city, so even if you ignore Astarion altogether, it would be more of a “gray” rather than 100% “good” act. AA is called “dangerous to society”, but 7000 hungry vampires, by all logic, are a real danger to society. I think Astarion deserves much better than to remain a spawn forever because of this.
Astarion's plot also shows very well how hard dependence is. The dependence of one's fate on the decisions of another. When another can decide for you whether your desires are right, whether your pain matters, or whether some “personal growth”, morality, someone else's souls or whatever else turns out to be more important. His words are not taken seriously, his desires are not taken seriously, and even the REAL woes of the spawn's existence are presented as if they are some nonsense worth less than some abstract concepts. Tav isn't a “good friend” who “talks him down”, Tav can talk Shadowheart down, when the spear is in her hands. Astarion cannot Ascend on his own, without help, Astarion is in a dependent position.
I've been given examples of situations from reality that are “similar” to the situation where Tav ignores Astarion's pleas.
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“Just because someone begs for something doesn't mean you should indulge them.” A situation where an addict begs for a dose of drugs (a completely false comparison - drugs destroy the human body and kill them, while the ritual does not harm Astarion's health - on the contrary, the ritual heals him, makes his body alive again). Or a situation in which a loving owner treats a cat that opposes treatment. I love cats very much, and I understand it's hard when a beloved pet doesn't understand that treatment is needed, and she thinks you're torturing her. But I absolutely hate the comparison of a grown man to an animal, there's definitely something distasteful about it. One can also give examples from reality, in which a person can and genuinely love someone they are harming, if that person is dependent on them, for example children are always dependent on their parents (I'm not infantilizing Astarion or considering him a “child”, just as an example of dependency). If parents are not educated enough or tend to believe people who look like authorities, they can jeopardize their child's health and harm them by turning to quacks or religion instead of evidence-based medicine, or in vegan families when parents almost starve their children and ruin their health for life because of their beliefs believing “it's the right thing to do”. The dependent is also dependent on the stupidity of the one they are dependent on. Astarion is certainly not a child, Astarion is a grown man, but in the moment before the ritual he is unfortunately dependent on Tav as a child. And Tav can ignore his pleas. “There has to be a way you know what, separates us from animals - choice.” (c) Astarion from EA - it's bitter that Astarion has had that choice taken away from him.
Regarding Astarion being very emotional about the Ascension and “not thinking clearly”. Desperate desire alone cannot make a decision illogical. The logicality of the decision can be evaluated as it is, separate from the motivation. Indeed Ascension is the only chance for a full life and it is in fact true, this decision is rational and logical. And it is not momentary - Astarion has been preparing for it. Strong emotions and including pleading are, in my opinion, consequences of a dependent position. I fully support Astarion in my playthrough in his desire to Ascend as soon as we find out - he is energized, hopeful and there are no overwhelming emotions. But when Tav argues with him, yes, he gets more emotional. Children's tantrums (again, just as an example of dependency) happen because they are in a dependent position, adults don't hear them and don't take them seriously. In the past, when women were not empowered to make decisions about their own lives, including marriage, career, and even personal choices, they may have expressed their frustration through emotional outbursts, which were then pathologized as tantrums (why hysteria was initially mislabeled a “woman's disease”). While some tantrums may have been manipulative, others may have been a desperate attempt to be heard and recognized, especially when other avenues of communication were blocked. When a person is not heard, they begin to scream. Astarion was in slavery, he was not taken seriously. When Tav continues to not take him seriously, yes, he is overwhelmed with emotion.
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housemdork · 30 days ago
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just read your analysis of house vs god, and i am genuinely curious about your opinion on james wilson (particularly your use of the word villainous). mainly because whenever i see fandom discussion surrounding hilson it always seems to emphasise house’s negative character traits and reduce wilson down to just being the best guy ever and/ or the relatable everyman done with houses shit.
do you see wilson as a bad person, or at least as more villainous than the fandom portrays him???
and do you think that house could be argued to be a good person???
i feel like you've just presented the ideal question to me on a silver platter...thank you...
first off, i use "villainous" to (mostly) be dramatic lol - everything to do with wilson Doing Bad Things is highly melodramatic and i love to lean into that. but with that being said, wilson is categorically not a great guy! he's a serial cheater, displays across the show how casually/easily he can manipulate people, indulges in some of house's worst antics, and (re: 2x19, "house vs. god")...sleeps with his terminally ill cancer patient. yikes all around.
but what distinguishes his "villainy" from house's is that those who wilson hurts are often noncharacters; we never hear directly from them or see them, apart from bonnie and, much later, sam. the worst of his traits take place in private, all in an effort to produce and preserve his persona of that "relatable everyman" that you describe. house wears his troubles, idiosyncrasies, and misanthropy on his sleeve, and these negative traits are often masking the more genuine, kinder person within. they're polar opposites in that way, and can be their truest selves (whether that be secretly nasty or secretly kind) to one another.
yet! at the same time! wilson's oncology work is rarely seen, either, whereas, by nature of the show, we get involved in every inch of house's doctoring business. his practice is where a lot of wilson's pain and love transpire, those things that make him such a good doctor. house, on the flipside, is no stranger to showing his ugliest behavior when under particular duress during a case.
but to answer your base question, i do not think wilson is a bad person. i think wilson challenges the audience to digest humanity's most complex equations and iterations - he has all the workings of an innately selfish "villain," but time and time again, he shows such abject kindness, that we can never fully diagnose him as either/or. his capacity to love, just maybe not in the way we always expect, makes me believe he is inherently good.
it's interesting that you point out fandom's tendency to cast wilson as the "best guy ever" because i've actually been seeing a lot of the opposite lately, people breaking away and morphing the contrarian's perspective as the New Truth. it kills me. something i love about hilson specifically is when wilson emerges from house's strict internal narrative and asserts his personhood to house and the audience simultaneously; 4x16 does a good job of this because it's like "damn. he really is a whole guy with a whole life that house hasn't showed us because house often thinks only of himself." when we're reminded of wilson's humanity like that, i find it hard to take the contrarian's opinion that he's "worse" than house.
like it actually breaks my heart to hear that repeated so often, so i made a long rambly post about it here lol. tldr, believing that wilson is any worse than house sometimes feels like a bad faith argument to me. it's not a competition between them, and a lot of the strife that wilson goes through is unseen.
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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months ago
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If it's alright, could I request a Toby, Slenderman, Eyeless Jack, and Jane the Killer x reader (separately), where the reader has no self preservation? Not in a sad way, but more in a "cheerfully confident that they can handle it" kinda way.
Either way, I hope you have a good day!
Crps x overly confident!reader w/ no survival instinct
Points
JANE REQUEST SPOTTED!! Feels like hardly anyone asks for her!!
Side note I could NOT find a good gif LMAO
Characters: Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Slenderman, Jane the Killer
Notes: reader is GN, reader is not suicidal in any way they just think they're built different, reader is written as a human
CWs: injury and blood mentions, canon typical violence and death
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SLENDERMAN
hes seen humans die to less, hes not going to let you follow that path... why would have to do any of this when hes right here to do the dirty work for you without complaint? he simply doesnt get it
but still, if he knows you will survive he will let you go- as foolish as he may think you are for throwing yourself into a fight or disaster- he will never fully understand humans so surely you must have a reason for this? stops this when it just leads to you getting hurt over and over, it slowly becomes clear that youre doing it because youre cocky. you truly do think you'd come out the other side unscathed
you dont even get the chance to throw yourself into a fight against a someone wielding a weapon- theyre torn down before you can get too close, leaving behind a mess of gore on the ground. your attitude may have rubbed off on him, he hardly ever displays such strength and violence- but if this is what needs to be done to show that you dont need to fight anymore then so be it
TICCI TOBY
honestly? he might just join you in whatever danger youre about to throw yourself in- he himself doesnt have much survival instinct, though a lot of that hinges off of his inability to feel pain. he minimizes the damage done to his body most of the time
and... that kind of bleeds into how he acts when youre reckless, afterall hes never had to be careful about himself- and you seem to hold the same belief to your own body... its going to take a real nasty injury to snap him out of that and make him realize that youre not invincible- even if the lesson doesnt sink in for you
you still sometimes make light hearted bets on things when stuff gets intense- "oh i bet i can take him-" "oh i can do this with one hand tied behind my back-" and so on and so fourth
youre both a little.... foolish...
EYELESS JACK
painfully aware of human anatomy and what it can and cant take- that comes from being very interested in the topic as well as being able to look inside human bodies first hand
a lot of the time you cant even take a single step towards the danger, hes already got his hand on your shoulder and tugging you into the other direction... and in the case where its dangerous but not deadly? you can feel the look hes giving you under his mask... for someone with no eyes he can give a mean glare
you give him hypotheticals for threats that you can take on and hes just "absolutely not."... he will not spare your ego, your safety is far more important to him- youre the one good thing in his life and hes not going to let you get yourself killed
JANE THE KILLER
it takes her a moment to process what youve said and by then youre already running towards the threat- and shes bolting after you to either back you up or drag you away... preferably drag you away if its something that cannot be stopped or bested
what were you thinking? are you insane? what if you were killed? shes not going to hold anything back, she wants to understand why you would do something like that- especially unprepared... do you have a death wish?
not at all happy or pleased with your little habit of just. running into things head first... she doesnt think its commendable or brave, and shes going to let you know what she thinks as shes trying to stop your wounds from bleeding all over the place
you can tell shes trying to be nice- well, niceish- but her tone does slip out as she speaks
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kimberly-spirits13 · 2 years ago
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How Bruce Wayne Is On Your Period
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This is really just meant to make me feel better tbh- lol kill me
He won't tell you, but he knows that it's starting 
like come on- the mood swings are terrible, you get more violent on patrol (you put Joker in the hospital for a few days), you're quicker to be snide towards shady business partners, you cried when you dropped a cracker and then went right back to normal, like seriously 
When you start to get bad PMS symptoms, you don't do patrol for the week
It's hard to control feelings, thoughts, and painful cramps while fighting crime
You're basically on probation from patrol
You and Alfred make a lot of food (or Alfred makes it happily and you devour it)
Bruce tries not to stay away during patrol for too long since you start to worry about him and he really, really worries about you when you're not feeling well
He makes sure to bring home lots and lots and lots of chocolate and meds if that's what you need
Goes to your favorite bakery and gets a massive amount of whatever you want 
Makes sure that you get plenty of water
like all the water because it helps so much 
Is totally fine with you raiding his closet for any sweatpants and massive t shirts
doesn't care if there's blood anywhere or if you ruin a set of sheets
he's a billionaire, it's not a loss 
he makes sure you aren't uncomfortable or if you need space, that you have it but you know that he's there when you need 
Sometimes being around guys when you're on your period is gross and idk why it's just like ugh get away from me you trash bag 
speaking of trash bags, if anything grosses you out or starts to make you feel icky (even if it usually doesn't), he totally removes it from your presence 
for me, it's cheese and weird or strong smelling things 
or anything that looks slimy or too rough *bleh*
If you're ever feeling bloated or just really really gross, Bruce is the hype man
"no gorgeous, you're stunning, exquisite, perfect, amazing, I'm in the presence of an angel babe." he'll spin you around and press kisses all over you 
"No, don't say that about yourself, you're so pretty, you're not gross."
I mean he's like this all the time, but he'd definitely play way way into it if you're feeling down
If you're married and wearing a wedding ring, he gets the ring custom made to be adjustable incase you fingers swell 
I can see you expressing something nasty about yourself like that you hate a scar or you feel like you're stupid or something and he'll start crying when you start crying 
like don't say that dude it's not nice to yourself 
You feel like a sweaty hog because your body is pushing out blood and tissue 
you're going into mini labour, leave yourself alone
When you can't sleep, he pulls you very tightly into him and plays with your hair 
braids it into a hundred tiny braids or brushes it 
anything that relaxes you
you probably have a treasure trove of comfort movies and tv shows and if you can't sleep or just want to watch something, he'll happily stay up with blankets wrapped around the two of you and watch whatever
rubs your back and makes sure that you're taking pain medicine every few hours to stay in your system 
sometimes when he's working in the cave and you're lonely but not feeling good, you'll wrap yourself in a large blanket and sit on his lap, head against his chest while he works
He thinks you're like a cat and finds it adorable 
You basically turn into a cat for a week and maybe some change and he finds it very very funny
makes sure that there are no galas or any meetings that you have to deal with
plans events and meetings around your periods to make sure that when you're on it, you don't have to deal with high society because they make anyone's blood boil (no pun intended)
When you get mad or start crying, he doesn't take it personally at all and just lets you get it out
sometimes laying in the fetal position for a few hours and falling asleep is the best thing that can happen for periods and he will happily cuddle you the entire time, even if it's not the optimal position for cuddling 
he tries to stay as neutral as possible on subjects when you're on your period so that you don't kill someone because he seemed equally as unhappy 
trust me, period mood swings are incapacitating, it's not a snarky thing, it's just so so sosososoososososoooooooo bad
please don't talk to me when I'm in my mood swing phase, I'll accidentally insult you and then cry about it later or decide never to talk to you again 
Local villains will not pull insane shenanigans while you're on you're period because they're terrified 
Terrified. 
if batman has to call in the calvary, its the calvary call out of hell
You're busting skulls and taking names the entire time 
Bruce is scared, the villain is scared, everyone is terrified of this blood thirsty being that wants everyone to be in as much pain as they are
Bruce knows that the world is insufferable and being super hormonal and feeling disgusting and being in pain doesn't help ignoring that fact, or even just living with it
He just wants you to feel better 
Bruce gets sad when you don't feel well 😂
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miausterx0x · 7 months ago
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JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS
CW: killing, stalking, scars, addiction
OKAY POSTING THIS NOW. I might do a part two sometime, he rots in my brain so im bound to come up w new ideas and stuff but for now this'll do :thumbs_up:
GENERAL STUFF
White, Italian-American but he's not too connected with his Italian heritage
In his early to mid 20s, ran away from home after committing his crimes when he was around 16 and he became a proxy for Slenderman after being on the run for 2 years, making him 18 when he was recruited
Jeff the bisexual, not that he realized/accepted it for a long time
Around 5’8’’/178cm, probably tells ppl he’s taller ngl
He's got light blue eyes and naturally brunette hair that he dyes black
He got into a burn accident when he was younger, an incident that finally flipped a switch on him for good
The burn marks are mostly spread across his upper body, his legs are pretty much free of any damage
The gushes on his cheeks never healed properly or closed as he did them poorly, leaving the edges ripped and uneven
The pain it caused has numbed overtime and he rarely feels it anymore
He managed to partly blind himself by having gone ahead and tried cutting his bottom eyelids in a poor attempt at stopping himself from ever crying (he was a mess and struggling with himself at that point) but he couldn't go fully through with it after he freaked himself out with the damage it did to his left eye
He's got scars all over his body, most of them are from fights with others
He actually wears those battle scars with pride, in his mind they make him seem cool and strong and he even brags about them
Very, very, VERY rare to see him without face paint on. It's not that he’s trying to conceal the damage his face has gone through, he just thinks the white face paint fits him better. Live laugh love guyliner as well
His makeup is waterproof and he even sleeps in it multiple nights in a row, he doesn’t care, he'll just touch it up if he needs to
His eyesight is below average but in his opinion he sees just fine even when he has to squint
PERSONALITY
He can be an annoying bastard when he wants, it's natural for him to be an asshole
If you're a stranger to him he has no problem being borderline harassing with his behaviour and it's worse if he's provoked in some way
It's very easy to pick a fight with him as he's easily irritable and when he fights, no matter if it's verbal or physical, it can get real nasty real fast
If you even look at him funny when he's having a bad day, you most likely will end up on his blacklist
That's to say he’s def got some anger issues he never got to work through when he was younger
The easiest way to befriend him is to impress him, otherwise he's not too interested in getting to know you
When one does befriend him and they become closer, they have to endure his playful banter, jokes and his smug behaviour
He's egoistical for sure. Whether his massive ego is a cover up for his issues with himself he'll never tell.
If you stroke his ego he’ll probs smirk to himself and receive it with no problem, but too much is too much and he’ll get annoyed cause then he just feels like you’re either not serious or you want something from him
Needless to say he prioritizes himself and the people he actually cares about, otherwise he's indifferent or dismissive of others
He's pretty much an ambivert. He can be by himself fine and he prefers it most of the time but he also seeks out the presence of other people from time to time
he’s also kind of an attention hogger, blame that on growing up with his parents not caring enough (doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad attention, both satisfy him)
He’s kind of reckless, rather acts before he thinks and sometimes it works in his favor, sometimes it bites him in the ass and if someone were to point that out he’d probably curse them out or something (he’s bad at admitting he’s wrong)
MUSIC PREFERENCES
He definitely thinks of himself as a music connoisseur of sorts
He’s a huge fan and listens to music pretty much whenever he can
He’s also got different playlists for different vibes. For example when he goes out (to kill) on his own he likes to listen to something that’ll pump up his adrenaline but then again when the night falls and he’s left awake staring at the ceiling he also likes calmer music that is almost melancholic in sound
And he thinks his music taste is better than yours, no debate about that (unless you introduce him to something new that he likes, then he’ll be a bit reluctant about complimenting your taste)
He’s probably sneaked into concerts as well as stolen merch, which btw all his shirts with graphics on them are just merch of bands he likes
If his music taste were to be described with genres his taste would fall into metal and goth and their subgenres
He actually got into the goth scene through Jane when they were young. She had introduced him to the type of music she liked and he actually found himself liking the sound and researched different subgenres on his own time. Would he admit that Jane got him into it? Probably not, if anything he’d give her just a little credit
He's more focused on the melody of the song rather than the lyrics. He might not even know the lyrics to his favorite songs because he thinks the melody on its own is banging enough
Some bands I think he’d specifically like are She Wants Revenge, Slipknot, Type O Negative, Korn, Lebanon Hanover, Twin Tribes and Mareux
When he was younger he used to be a big emo, now he slightly cringes at the thought yet finds himself sometimes revisiting the songs and bands he used to listen to on loop when he was in his teens
FASHION
He’s not too particular with his clothes, most often he steals the stuff he wears from his victims
He does like alt and edgier fashion though but he doesn’t care to specifically seek out for clothes that fall into that style too much
Accessories are a different thing. He's like a crow when it comes to cool jewelry and might even target someone just to steal a spike bracelet from them
A big lover of his white hoodie. It’s almost like a part of him and he even feels weird going out without it
^ And it’s often covered in dried blood. He views the stains as some sort of trophy from his successful kills and is against washing it unless someone actually makes him do that (but that would only happen after a ridiculous amount of resistance from him)
His wardrobe mostly consists of dark colors, apart from the couple of white tops he has
Knowing Jeff’s preferences, Nina sometimes alters his clothes and makes them more fitting to his aesthetic, which despite his act of indifference he sort of appreciates
He’s got a few piercings and he’s done all of them himself except for his snakebites
The first time he pierced himself he got his ear infected and Jack had to treat it
After that he's got the hang of it and has been free of any serious infections
His snakebites were the first piercings he ever got when he was young, approximately 15 or so. He got them done by some shady guy in some even shadier circles he hung around in as an act of rebellion against his parents
FOOD & DRINKS
He's not picky with food, like at all
Sure there are things he doesn't like but he eats pretty much anything
When he was on the run after attacking his family he didn't really have much options and ate whatever he could find just to keep alive and going
His favorite type of food is homemade meals and he prefers to cook his own food if he can, partly because of his distrust to others
And he's decent at cooking. He learned when he was young and still living at home but everyone has the impression of him that he can't cook for his life
Loves a good ol’ Monster Energy, the drink is imprinted on him since early age
The type of guy to forget to drink water tbh, he’s kind of dismissive when it comes to taking care of himself in general
BAD HABITS
Killing and stalking, obviously
Depending on his mood he may take his victims out quickly with a simple stab to satisfy his craving for control for the moment, but at times he can get brutal to the point he leaves an impossible mess
He's not a long term stalker if he plans on killing some stranger. He'll follow them throughout one evening and be done by the night
Though sometimes he'll get curious about other people’s habits and way of operating, and he may follow or watch them out of sight to gain more information
He's a regular smoker and he’s not planning on quitting it
Steals a new pack in advance every chance he gets. He does go through one fairly quickly after all
Also a drinker. He's not addicted like he is with nicotine but when he drinks he often takes it too far, drinking too much too quickly
Sometimes it's a choice, sometimes he just loses track of his limits yet he would insist he meant to get shitfaced, thinking that works better for his image
HABITS/FREE TIME
He’s the type to consider killing as his habit but apart from that there are a few other things he finds himself drawn to
Music, as said before, is a big part of his daily life. He likes to just hang in his room and have music in the background, usually blasting it from some busted stereo he found one day
A knife collector and he has favorites based on how many kills he's gotten with them, how he got them and the style of the knife. Will ramble about them if you don't shut him up fast enough
He used to draw fairly regularly when he was still young but over the years he's sort of dropped it. He might still doodle something if he's given a pen and paper and he has nothing better to do, but he doesn't value the habit much at all anymore
i mmmiiiiight do more hcs with the other creeps, lemme know if y'all are interested in hearing me yap abt the others too cause then i'll actually make a point to myself to write them down lololoololo
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slaymitchabernathy · 4 months ago
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Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby
| "...nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, as long as you're with me, you'll be just fine, nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, nothing's gonna take you from my side..." | written based on a request :)) |
Sometimes, Coriolanus wishes he could keep his wife away from the world and the cruelty it brings, like a rose in a greenhouse.
Right now, he wishes more than anything that he could just make the pain go away, make her stop crying. He hates it when Soarynn cries. Hates the sharp little gasps that leave her lips, hates how her entire frame trembles, hates how her lip quivers, and she stumbles over her words.
He wraps his arms tighter around her, doing his best to soothe over her gaping wound that is her heart. "I...I'm gonna quit," she gets out, more tears fall down her cheeks. Coriolanus sighs, gently rubbing his hand up and down her side. She's frustrated, and rightfully so.
The Capitol Art Museum opened up its doors for aspiring artists to show off some of their work, and Soarynn was more than happy to bring in some of her paintings. They're beautifully done, and he's not just saying that because he's her husband.
She spent days making sure everything was perfect, and then insisted that they come to the Museum early so she could set up her table. He had watched her fuss over where to put each painting, checking to see if the tablecloth was placed right in the middle of the table.
Not to mention this morning, when she spent a good thirty minutes trying to pick out an outfit.
All that work for no one to show up.
Well, people came, but they paid her little table tucked away in the corner no mind. He's already plotting to write the Museum Board a very nasty letter about the entire thing. How she got shoved into that dark, sad corner is beyond him.
Soarynn is a Snow.
She should be treated as such.
But right now, she needs to be treated like glass, like the delicate porcelain doll he knows she can be. His lips press against the part in her soft blonde hair, if only he could kiss the pain away that easily. "Don't quit, darling, I know things didn't turn out the way you wanted them to, but don't give them the satisfaction by quitting altogether."
Soarynn sniffles, which breaks his heart even more.
He hates it when she cries.
"You did so good, darling," he praises her, "they were fools to ignore you, and I want you to know that I'm going to do everything in my power to fix this, to make this right."
She doesn't know that people might die for this little misunderstanding, but that's okay. Soarynn is so blissfully unaware of the power she holds over him, how he'd kill for her, die for her.
"I wanna go home," she mumbles, ignoring his words of advice.
They haven't even left the museum yet, Soarynn was too embarrassed to walk out with all of her artwork, and once the tears came, he knew they'd be here for a while. So, he pulled them into an empty office off one of the hallways, figuring some privacy would be appreciated.
"You're sure? You don't want to go look around at your favorite exhibits?"
Soarynn normally loves to look at everything, dragging him around whilst telling him facts about every sculpture or painting. "I hate art," she says, shoving him in the chest. His brows scrunch together in confusion. Where has his sweet little angel gone?
"Hey now, I haven't done anything, darling," he gently reminds her, resting his hands on her shoulders, "you needn't take it out on me too." Soarynn looks down at her shoes, embarrassed, tired, upset, angry, and sad. All things he tries to keep her far away from.
Her next words are barely audible. "I'm sorry."
And then come the tears again, hot and quick to run down her cheeks. Her shoulders shake as she sobs, and Coriolanus is quick to pull her right back into his chest, holding her so tight, keeping her safe from the dangers of this world.
The world can be so cruel to sweet things like her, so mean and hateful. Soarynn grew up with an adoring father who gave her everything she could ever want, and Coriolanus has done his best to continue giving Soarynn the same level of care.
She's so good, so kind and sweet. She deserves the best and only the best.
Her breaths begin to grow more and more uneven, as if she's hyperventilating. Coriolanus takes her delicate face into his large hands, looking down into her glassy eyes that are filled with anguish and anxiety. "Soarynn, Soarynn, it's alright darling. It's alright, take a deep breath for me, okay?"
But she's far past reconciliation. Her breathing grows even more erratic, and Coriolanus grows more worried by the second. Her cheeks are flushed, her hands are shaking, more tears are streaming down her face.
Coriolanus is starting to freak out. Is she okay? Does he need to take her to the hospital?
Her entire frame trembles, and he quickly grabs her waist, lifting her up effortlessly so he can sit her down on the empty desk. It does little to settle her nerves, and she reaches out to him with shaking hands. "You're alright," he murmurs, lacing his fingers between hers, "you're alright. Just breathe in and out for me, sweet girl. In and out. Just like that. You're doing so well, darling."
Coriolanus remains in front of her, maintaining eye contact while Soarynn takes in a few shaky yet deep breaths to help her calm down. "Good," he says, blowing out the air in his body with her, "just like that."
He can tell that she's embarrassed over what happened in the gallery and what's happening now. But he didn't marry a woman without flaws, a woman who wouldn't crumple every once in a while under societal pressure. Soarynn always tries her best to be perfect, which often leads to her breaking down under the pressure she places on herself.
Coriolanus has never expected her to be perfect. If she were, then she wouldn't be the woman he fell in love with all those years ago.
Soarynn's breathing starts to level out, so he moves on to helping her feel more grounded. "Very good, darling. Now, close your eyes, close your eyes and just listen to the world around you." He can hear birds chirping outside the windows and footsteps in the large Museum exhibit rooms.
He steps forward, closing the short distance between them, and rests a hand on the back of her head, smoothing down her hair. She isn't crying anymore, she's moved on to small sniffles and hiccups.
The worst is over.
"It's okay," he whispers, "it's okay. You're okay, Soarynn. Just a little anxious is all." Coriolanus does his best to look to the future with confidence. Soarynn doesn't share his point of view, often spiraling over things she can't control.
One time, he woke up to her crying in the middle of the night because she had a dream that he had died. Even though he assured her that he was perfectly fine, she still took a while to calm down and fall asleep.
Soarynn rests her head against his chest, eyes shut, breathing even once again.
Coriolanus rubs his thumb over the back of her hand, helping to ground her. "I...I want something to drink," she whispers against his coat. Soarynn had been ready to flee the museum and never return, urging him to put on his coat and gloves so they could leave.
This was before the tears started flowing.
Coriolanus nods even though her eyes are still shut. "We can get you something to drink. Do you want something warm or something cold?"
Soarynn raises her head, and her eyes finally open. They're red from all the crying she's done, but the tears are no more. "Warm, please."
He smiles, even when she's sad, she's so cute and polite.
"Warm it is, darling," he promises, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Do you want to go to the museum cafe for a dri-"
"No," she cuts him off with a more determined, steady tone, "I want to leave." The correct thing to do would be to stay here and face her fears. But Coriolanus has never enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable. He's tried to do it before, and it's never ended well for him in the past. It always ends in tears.
"Alright. We can leave," he easily agrees, "let's wipe those eyes first, hmm?" He fishes in his pocket for a handkerchief; he's carried one since he can remember. It used to be out of habit, but now it's just in case he needs to wipe some tears or blow a stuffy nose.
Soarynn allows him to gently wipe any traces of tears, sitting perfectly still with her hands in her lap. "I don't mean to be dramatic," she whispers. Coriolanus shakes his head at those words. He's met dramatic women, and Soarynn is not one of them.
She's sensitive. There's a difference.
"You could never be dramatic, my angel," he gently promises her.
Soarynn doesn't look entirely convinced, but she does look entirely out of tears for the time being. Perhaps it would be best to leave before more can be made. "Why don't we go to your favorite coffee shop and get you a hot chocolate?" Soarynn doesn't really care for coffee, but she loves hot chocolate.
"Okay," she mumbles, wiping her eyes, "that sounds nice."
He offers her a hand to hop off the desk, and she gladly takes it. Coriolanus always craves touch, he needs to have his hands on her at all times. Not even in a sexual manner per se, but because she grounds him. He loves holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her waist. In more public settings, he'll rest a hand on her lower back, a possessive display of affection.
Soarynn doesn't crave it as much as he does, not in public at least. She prefers to crawl all over him at home. If he's working, she'll come sit in his lap, wrapping her limbs around him like a contortionist. If they're in bed, she always has to be the little spoon, and if she's not, then she's lying right on top of him.
Right now, however, she needs his touch as much as he needs hers. Coriolanus leads them back into the hallway and begins his evil plans to destroy everyone who had anything to do with today's disaster.
He'll do anything to keep his sweet, darling girl happy.
꧁ ꧂
That night, after getting Soarynn some hot chocolate, a muffin, and then taking her shopping, Coriolanus watches her play with Petunia, her spoiled cat. Despite their distinct rivalry, Coriolanus is glad for the happiness that Petunia provides for Soarynn.
It's just so unfortunate that she provides nothing but annoyance for him.
The cat is a menace. She'll scratch him, pee in his shoes, eat his socks. She even swallowed one, which led to a very expensive overnight stay at the vet for her.
Besides that, he's sure she's a very pleasant cat.
Soarynn giggles while Petunia follows around a string tied to a stick, which apparently, counts as a cat toy at the pet shop. Petunia bats at it, jumping on her hind legs when Soarynn lifts it up. Coriolanus sips his bourbon, a necessary evil after another long day, and looks back at the letter he's started to draft to the Capitol Art Museum Board.
To whom it may concern, I am writing to the Capitol Art Museum Board to file an official complaint due to what occurred today, on March 25th, during the Aspiring Artists Event. My wife, Soarynn Snow, partook in the event and was severely mistreated and undervalued at your event today. No assistance was offered to her, nor was a more prominent table space compared to the other Artists. My wife was shoved into a dark corner, completely ignored by you and your staff. I am writing to inform you that I intend to press charges and seek legal action against the mistreatment my wife experienced today.
He can always tweak it.
"Oh Coryo, look at how smart she is."
Coriolanus looks back down at Petunia, who has finally managed to capture the string. She looks very proud of herself. "Yes, darling," he agrees for the sake of her happiness, "she's the smartest cat there is. Why don't you come sit with me for a bit, hmm?"
Soarynn can hardly deny her husband such a request. She might shy away in public, but at home, she's bolder, braver. She doesn't bother standing up, she just crawls over to his desk, which does dark things to his mind.
Coriolanus loves having Soarynn in his lap even more when he's buried inside of her. Not tonight, though. She's had a rough day, and sex can make her more emotional if she's not feeling confident in herself.
Coriolanus chuckles when her head comes between his spread legs, she's like a cat in a lot of ways, purring when he scratches her just right. "My pretty girl," he murmurs, threading his fingers through her soft hair. Soarynn closes her eyes, leaning into his touch, eager to feel his nails on her scalp.
"Coryo?"
"Yes?"
"Can we get another cat?"
Coriolanus stops scratching her scalp, stunned by such a bold and horrible question. Soarynn's eyes open, filled with hope and mischief.
"I don't think so, darling," he says, shaking his head at the mere thought of another Petunia. Soarynn finally crawls into his lap, wrapping her legs around his torso. "Please? Please, please, please? You know how anxious I get, and another cat would make me feel so much better!"
Coriolanus looks over her shoulder, where Petunia is watching him with her beady little eyes. "Well, it would not make me feel better," he tells her, "in fact, I think it would heighten my anxiety."
Soarynn pouts, and she's so cute when she does it. "How about a baby?" He offers, kissing the tip of her nose. She makes a confused face, clearly not expecting him to take this route. "A baby?" She repeats, resting her hands on his shoulders. Coriolanus nods, holding her by the waist, "Mhm. A baby, a little girl who would look just like you. Wouldn't that be nice?"
They've been married for three years now, and Coriolanus has been thinking about children more and more recently. How wonderful would it be to have a daughter to call his own?
"I guess," she mumbles, grabbing the collar of his shirt with one hand. "But what if it's a boy?" He shrugs, not really caring too much about the gender. As long as it's a healthy baby, that'll be all that matters to him.
"Then it'll be a boy," he answers, pecking her cheek, "we can have more than one. We can have three."
Three seems like the perfect number to him. Close in age, nearly identical in looks.
"What if the baby inherits my anxiety?" That's a question he wasn't prepared for.
It's very possible that their future children could share their mother's worrying thoughts and actions. Nearly everything these days is genetic. Coriolanus likes to believe that his genes will be more dominant, though, overpowering any genes that might cause a social hindrance for their child.
"If our baby has anxiety, then we'll both be well equipped on how to handle it, won't we?"
Coriolanus has had lots of practice bringing Soarynn back down to earth from a panic attack. He knows the steps to take, what to do, and what to say. He's an expert, in fact.
Soarynn slowly nods, warming up to the idea of starting a family with him after so long. Coriolanus has enjoyed every second alone with Soarynn, but neither of them married with the idea of staying childless for long. They have lots of rooms that can easily be transformed into nurseries.
"It would be nice," she admits, "and I could buy so many baby clothes."
Coriolanus laughs, of course, she's already thinking about the clothes. Some things never change. "Yes, darling, you can buy all the clothes you want."
He finally presses his lips to hers, a true love's kiss if he's ever had one. Soarynn believes in that type of stuff, in true love and finding your soulmate. He never believed in any of that until he met her.
She's changed him as a person, made him nicer, kinder, more patient, and gentle. The old Coriolanus would've scoffed at her panic attack today, written it off as hormones, and told her to get it together. Not anymore, though. He became better for her.
Soarynn returns the kiss eagerly, settling into his lap for the long haul. Their lips move in sync, familiar with each other after all these years. He brings one hand up to her face, gently holding it so he can take further control. She gives it to him so easily, always trusting him to take care of her. Soarynn sighs, it's been a long day for her.
After this, he'll draw her a nice warm bath. He'll brush her hair and braid it down her back. Then he'll help her get dressed and tuck her into bed with him.
Safe and loved, by his side. Where nothing can hurt her.
"Thank you for taking care of me today."
He smiles into the kiss, even in the most intimate moments, Soarynn is always polite.
"Of course," he murmurs against her lips, "I'll always take care of you."
He means it too, nothing's gonna hurt his baby.
| tumblr oneshot/drabble |
| taglist: @lovelylove268 @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @evilmenarehot @cervvsq @snowgirl12 @matcha-muses @anisangeldust @snowsgames @wakdjenwowj |
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pomefioredove · 1 year ago
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summary: morally insecure reader type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, yuu is at nbc now, hurt/comfort, a little fluffy, extremely self indulgent, rollo is ptsd coded as per usual
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Perhaps he didn't know you as well as he thought.
But then again, perhaps he didn't want to.
Rollo had become accustomed to the comfortable home you had made yourself within his mind, warm and comforting and far, far away from the dark crevices he worked so hard to stave off.
It mirrored reality, in a sense; he saw it as his duty to keep you safe and away from all the evils of the world, the magic and sin and those who would lead you astray... some days, he felt that he could shrug the rest of his life off his shoulders and solely devote himself to your keeping. Others, he was bothered by nasty thoughts of doubt, those that told him he was only doing to you now what he couldn't have done all those years ago.
Rollo kept himself occupied enough to avoid thinking about it too much.
He did not see a reason to tell you of his mission, of course. You- pure, perfect, untainted by the sins of this world- wouldn't understand. No one would. But you never questioned it, either. Most days, you were simply happy to be treated well (the implications of which he did not want to dwell on; Rollo had made himself a promise not to pry too much about your experience at Night Raven College).
Always so grateful. So kind. Too kind, sometimes, that it caught him off guard. Rollo had not had a friend since...
...Never mind, that.
So perfect. So pure. Everything he could ever aspire to be, but never would, all captured in one person. An angel sent for him, and him alone.
But just as there were things you wouldn't understand about him, there was a sea of mysteries about you.
He can't imagine how you could cause yourself such grief.
Delicately holding your face between his hands, palms gently pressed to each wet, salty cheek, as if you were made of porcelain. He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, not bothering to pull away to retrieve his handkerchief. He can't even think of that right now. Seeing you in such pain is tearing him into halves.
"I'm a bad person,"
"No," he says, almost immediately. His voice sounds more desperate than he would have liked. He can't help it.
"I am,"
He had already spent thousands of nights wishing for some miracle that could heal unseen wounds, but that desire had become stronger than ever now. He would have gladly torn his heart out of his chest and given it to you if it would help.
He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way. He hates himself for caring so deeply.
Yet, he still can't hate you.
Never you.
"You're not," he insists. "Tell me what's happened. I will make it better."
You don't respond, and it kills him. However you managed to get such an awful idea about yourself, he can't say. Perhaps it came from Night Raven College. Perhaps it's even older than that.
It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because it is not true.
It's not true.
It's not true.
After all, if you are a bad person, then what does that make him?
You avoid his eyes. "You can't," there's long pause to take a shaky breath. "You can't make it better. I've tried... I've been trying... it doesn't go away. It's like... I've been shattered into a million pieces, and I can't be put back together again."
Rollo winces, though he doesn't show it on his face.
There are these things you do, these brief moments, soft exchanges of words, certain looks on your face, that remind him all too much of himself.
He pities you. He pities himself.
"Stop it," is all he can think to say. "Do not say such things about yourself. You are not broken. You are not evil. Do you think I would dirty myself by associating with such people?"
You're quiet for a long moment. He does not like the silence, so he keeps talking.
"I cannot address what you won't tell me, thought you should know that no matter what you were told at Night Raven College or elsewhere, here, you are valued. You are wanted. You are the most..."
Rollo hesitates for a moment, taking but a second to compose himself and rephrase whatever it was he was about to say.
"...the most exceptional student I have ever met. Your humility is honorable, but I will not allow you to drown in it. Let yourself feel this, recover, but know that here, at Noble Bell, you are nothing less than an angel."
Failing to find anything else to say, another long silence is cast over the room, though this one significantly less tense than the last. The only noise between the two of you is of crackling fire, though it sounds miles away when he looks at you like this.
Eventually, you speak. "...Thank you,"
"My pleasure," he mumbles, finally releasing the hold he's had on your face for the past several minutes and leaning back to get a better look at you. "...Let me help."
He sits a little closer, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he's done a thousand times before within the private confines of his room. Though, this time feels...
The purple and gold of his handkerchief cloud your vision as he gently dabs at your tears until he's satisfied, which he marks with a soft hum.
"Don't get up yet," he says after, allowing you to lean against his body for much longer than he has before. "The fire is still warm."
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inkyycapp · 1 year ago
Note
Yokai!matsu kidnapping reader..? It ticks a few things at once. Oh! Oh! They're kidnapped cos they were found injured, but even after they've healed the yokai brothers (seperately) refuse to let them go.
Cough, cough. I love this, cough.
You're getting hcs too.
Ahem
Slight notice! I did some minor research for this, but even then I'm still unsure !! If anything is wrong please do tell me !!
(Uh so, really bad weather rn. Wifi going in and out and tornadoes lurking around, so, like that's rad ig !! Forgive me.)
Tw/Cw: Injuries, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, manipulation(?), desperation, spelling/grammar(?), probably a little or a lot ooc I'm terrible at telling !! Forgive me !!
Youkai!Matsu x Injured!Reader
( Yokai!Matsu but used Youkai for letter colors..:D )
Small reader context !!
For whatever reason you're in the mountains doing whatever your mortal self does up there. A sharp pain shoots through your leg causing you to slip. Your foot set off a bear/fox trap. A group of bandits or just overall bad people--who one would assume set the trap--find poor injured you.
You don't have much on hand. Maybe you have a weapon, maybe you don't. But, regardless of how hard you fight, there are just more of them the there are of you.
Osomatsu
Oni
-He doesn't hate humans, but he doesn't actively like them either. He's more neutral about it.
-Like, he wouldn't go out of his way to help/save them, that's way too much work for him. But, he also wouldn't go out of his way to kill someone unless they really pissed him off.
-Doesn't really understand humans, but somewhat understand and takes a small liking to bits of their culture and activities.
-Actually fairly in with the times, but doesn't really try enough to be in with the times, y'know?
-Obviously takes part in gambling with the humans regardless of the time period.
-He finds that you're injured and probably not going to make it out of the situation alive.
-While at first he's slightly indifferent about your situation, he recognizes you from the village below. He probably asked for money and you gave it to him, or maybe you work at one of the place he frequents, but for whatever reason, he may be persuaded to help.
-You're already unconscious and he can't help but feel pity for you. Pretty nasty leg injury. Maybe he should help.
-And, so, he does!
-After attending to your Injuries best he could, he decided to wait for you to come around. He'll admit, the patch up was sloppy, but it did the job, that's what matters.
-Eventually, you'd come around and find yourself face to face with the devil himself. Whether fearful or not, this would take some...adjusting.
-Compared to the known sterotype, he seems more lax and less...demonic.
-He finds you interesting. Somehow, that curiosity hadn't faded one moment since he's found you. Expect some questions personal, even perverted, or not.
-Dislikes when you get up or move around without his help. Though, more chill and just lightly scold you for straining yourself.
-Then, soon, one day you're all better. But, he doesn't want you to leave. How strange. He didn't think he'd be this...attached to someone like yourself. Not like that, bit it's weird to him.
-He had seen humans come and go--grow old and die. He's never been this comfortable with humans before he'd met you. He doesn't want you to leave. Will you ever see each other again after you part ways? Probably not, but he doesn't want to take that chance.
-So, you can't leave just yet.
Karamatsu
Shikigami
-Karamatsu loves humans/humanity the MOST out of this list. He often tries to be 'in' with the culture no matter the time period. He goes through many "phases" trying to be what the humans deem is cool in certain points of time.
-He loves to collect and tell stories that humans tell, though can sometimes stretch it a little for a more theatrical performance.
-He often tries to interact with people and walk amongst them. But, it usually never goes well.
-His brothers often tease, but he's restless in his search for a human Karamatsu boy or girl.
-When he found you in the snow plains, a red staining the snow around you, he didn't hesitate to check out the scene.
-A group of people trying to take advantage of a defenseless Karamatsu boy or girl !! Of course he felt the need to intervene and help the poor soul.
-He manages to scare off the bandits, but by the time he gets to you, you're already out. It pains him to see such a beauty in so much pain.
-Karamatsu, without so much as a second thought, takes you somewhere much safer. A nice small cabin deep in the woods. That's where he nurses injured you back to health.
-At first, you're probably shocked, but maybe around the first week mark, you'll probably get used to it. If not, don't worry! You'll have a long time to adjust!
-He's very curious about you and the humans you surround yourself with. His knowledge of the culture is a little outdated, not by much. Still, it's nothing compared to understanding the real thing.
-He doesn't like when you try to get up. You need to recover. You'll probably hurt yourself! Don't worry, he'll do it for you!
-Honestly, just wants you to be safe. By far, you're the first human that he's ever gotten this close with--both metaphorically and literally.
-He just wants to keep you safe. There are monsters lurking both human and spirit. Surely you know.
-Karamatsu had already taken a liking to you since he met you, but over the time of your recovery, he's grown too attached to let you leave.
-You'll stay, won't you?
Choromatsu
Tengu
-Also kind of neutral, more lenient towards pretty humans. It's so painfully obvious, his brothers tease him about it, though he's incredibly indenile.
-While claiming he doesn't have an obvious leniency towards pretty humans, it is obvious to literally anyone. Including the mortals down in the villages.
-Choromatsu won't go out of his way to harm anyone he considers "pretty or cute", though his idea of pretty and cute is complicated! Not always about looks, but mannerisms, actions, etc.
-He spots you before. And, he folds at first glance. It's not difficult to be encouraged to help you. You're practically a sparkly treasure to be collected and safe guarded.
-But, then he watches as you're injured self begins to get surrounded by the group that seemed to have caught you.
-Choromats had quickly intervened, chasing off the group (probably off a cliff), before returning back to you.
-Laying in the snow, you were out cold and didn't seem to respond at all, your pulse being the only thing noting you're still alive.
-Won't deny, he was absolutely panicking at first, figuring out how to clean your injures properly.
-Eventually, he does somewhat figure it out, and once you're stable he takes that time to breathe. And, well, admire your sleeping form. Not in a creepy way, but just studying you.I
-When you do come around, he's trying and failing with his words for a moment.
-Takes care of you, and while he does often nag you, he's more so worried about how your recovery is coming along.
-Tends to kinda hover, keeping a close eye on you, telling you to lay down and get rest and that he can do whatever it was you wanted to get up to do.
-Will refuse to let you get up and do anything for yourself. Why have you do it when you have him? A literal waste, really!
-Even if he sees your coming around and the healing process is moving quicker than he wants, he still refuses to let you do anything.
-Now comes the time when you're ready to leave the nest. Pun.
-He obviously begs you to stay, much without words. Choromatsu doesn't want you to go now that he's oh so attached! You can't go. You won't leave, will you?
-Please don't leave .
Ichimatsu
Kitsune
-Ichimatsu, opposed to Karamatsu, probobly hates humans/humanity the most on this list.
-Often times, he was the cause of some humans lost or missing on the mountain. Though, he wouldn't go out of his way for anything unless angered or maybe he just felt malicious that day.
-Humans find him captivating despite his dislike for them. Even so, he won't admit it, but they do fascinate him on some occasions.
-He spots the bandits first, then you after he gets rid of those loud bandits that woke him from his nap. He considers getting rid of you, too.
-But, you're asleep. And, it seemed your leg is caught pretty badly. It doesn't seem like you'll be able to move far with your leg like that. You'll probably be dead in a matter of hours. He doesn't have to do a thing.
-No, he doesn't feel bad for you. Not one bit. You're just an unlucky human caught by the foot like some poor rabbit.
-Ichimatsu does somehow end up carrying you off elsewhere--somewhere more comfortable. Don't be mistaken, he may be helping you, but no further than this.
-Once you're safe in the small cabin, he does the bare minimum with your injuries and once your stable, he leaves.
-You'll wake up alone, and it'll probably be like that for maybe a few hours before you're visited by a stranger.
-Ichimatsu takes care you you between visits, though he doesn't speak to you often. You're probably scared being so close to a monster like himself.
-But, you grow comfortable in his presence and attempt to talk to him. Something he finds real odd, but almost sweet. He still doesn't talk to you though, but he almost wants to.
-His visits grow more frequent, and he even began bringing you gifts. Like dead animals. But, it's the thought that counts!
-He ends up more attached than he would've liked to admit. And, unlike some people on the list, he's more blunt that you remain here with him.
-You'll be stuck with a monster trash like him, but at least here he can keep you warm and fed.
-You're staying put. There's no reason for you to leave anyways.
Jyushimatsu
Inugami
-Honestly, it doesn't matter to Jyushimatsu. He's fairly friendly to any and all who walk in his path. Many run, but it doesn't bother him much.
-Though, if he had to love one thing about them, he absolutely loves their sports and activities. Often goes with Karamatsu to go take part in "human activities".
-But as one can assume, they get comically outed.
-Is fairly kind opposed to some on this list. He won't go out of his way to harm humans regardless how he feels, though when it comes to helping it's a 50/50. Normally at least tries. But, if he doesn't like you, he'll probably just watch with a lead stare.
-When he found you in the snow, you were surrounded, and he had accidentally hit one of the people with a baseball. Completely by accident. But, kinda thinks maybe the accident wasn't that much of an accident.
-Ends up completely making a fool of the group when leading them away. But, he quickly returns to where you had been laying.
-Similar to Choromatsu, he panics at first and is so unsure about how to go about this situation. Obviously he doesn't want to make it worse, but he really doesn't want you to die.
-He carries you off to the small cabin to tend to your wounds. It's sloppy patch-job, but it's alright.
-Watches you while you sleep. Pokes you now and again. When you don't move for too long Jyushimatsu does tend to panic a little but settles when you finally take in that breath of air.
-When you do wake up, he's happy you're up and not dead. Sure, he may not feel too bad if you died, but only because he didn't have a close enough connection to care, but that wouldn't mean he wouldn't care.
-Jyushimatsu tries to stay the entire time your recovering. While he does hover a little, he's more considerate of your space.
-Does whatever he can to make you laugh. Whether it's acting out a skit, telling jokes or just being goofy.
-Doesn't care if it makes him look dumb. As long as he at least gets a smile out of you it doesn't matter.
-Gets way too attached way to quick. And, when you're all better, he gets a little (lying) clingy.
-Whines and may even howl like a kicked puppy. Might even do tricks if it gets you to stay.
-Don't leave yet!!
Todomatsu
Baku-Danuki
-Todomatsu doesn't hate them, but he doesn't care for them either, similar to Osomatsu. However, he's more in with their culture, more so than Karamatsu. Only because he thinks it's cute.
-Prefers some time period clothing to others and can tend to stand out, but language is definitely up to date.
-He views humans/humanity as beneath him, or simply to play into his enjoyment. He has no issues getting rid of anyone that doesn't gives him what he wants out of an interaction. Absolutely stone cold.
-He spots a few humans gathering around, and grows curious as to what grabbed their attention.
-Their wares seem to interest him. Then, there's you. After disposing of the others, he's left with unconscious you. What to do with you.
-Well, you could be useful. You'll pretty much be indebted to him for saving you. Or, at least you should be.
-So, he drags you away from the scene, tenderly caring to your wounds, putting on a sweet and kind persona.
-When you awaken, he greets you gently, coming forward as the one who saved your life after he found you on the brink of death in the snow.
-Skeptical or not, you come around and thank him however you would. Already gaining praise from you. Admittedly, the praise feels...nicer than it should. He brushes it off, what else can he get from you.
-He slyly asks you questions, gaining more information of your personal life over a week, maybe two.
-You get up to do something, and being the ever so kind savior, he takes you back to bed, doing the task for you instead. Not that he wants to. He's playing the long game with your little life.
-But, you thank him, telling him just how kind he is. Todomatsu can't help but grow addicted to that feeling. Being appreciated and validated.
-Slowly, but surely, he begins to grow a bit (a lot) attached. He didn't think it was possible. But, soon he doesn't see you as just a human, but as you.
-Once you get better, he does contemplate poisoning you to get you to stay. Not much to kill you, but enough so he could still take care of you.
-Todomatsu doesn't do it. But, he has heavily considered it.
-He will try his damndest to get you to remain in this little cabin with him.
-You can't go yet! You need him!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So funny that Osomatsu and Karamatsu are my favorites in general, but Todomatsu is my favorite to write for, and Jyushimatsu is my favorite to draw. What.
I still dislike Choromatsu. There is no reason for it.
Anyway if you're here, try Arizona RX Energy Herbal Tonic Tea. It's so damn good. That's all lmao !!
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receival · 1 year ago
Text
supernatural, seasons 1 - 5 starters.
the following is a collection of starter sentences from the cw show, supernatural.
i can’t do this alone.
where you headed?
no way i’m telling you.
i have these nightmares, and sometimes they come true.
you’re all i’ve got.
we go after this damn thing, together.
can i help you?
i kind of — i need to talk.
i’ve done some things … not good things.
there’s always forgiveness for us if we seek it.
salvation was created for sinners.
tell me what’s on your mind.
i’ve lied. a lot.
does that make me a bad person?
i know what you are.
you can’t be here.
this is hallowed ground.
maybe that works in the minor leagues, but not with me.
you’re wasting your time.
even if i did know where they were, i wouldn’t tell you.
this is everything i know.
what happened to them is not your fault.
it’s not my fault, but it’s my problem.
it’s not your problem. it’s our problem.
you got any better ideas?
this ends. now.
i’m ending it. i don’t care what it takes.
although i’m not too crazy about this new tone of yours — you’re right.
think real hard. it’ll come to you.
last time i saw you, you fell out a window.
i don’t know what you’re talking about.
this is what war looks like. it has casualties.
i’m gonna kill you, you know that?
sorry? i didn’t quite get that.
what the hell are you looking at?
who said anything about handing it over?
i want to stop losing the people i love.
i just … i just want this to be over.
did you get it?
you know this is a trap, don’t you?
don’t get yourself killed, alright? you’re no good to us dead.
it’s your fight. you finish this.
i want to thank you. for everything.
even when i couldn’t count on anyone, i could always count on you.
i wanted to let you know, just in case.
you kidding me? don’t say just in case something happens to you. i don’t want to hear that speech.
no one’s dying tonight.
i was hoping to kill more of your friends.
you know, i must admit, considering what they say about you, i thought you’d be … taller.
well aren’t you the chatty one?
i can’t believe you just shot me!
i’m so not in the mood for this.
holy water, (name). real cute.
where the hell did it go?
if you had just let me go in there, i could have ended all this.
the only thing you would have ended is your life.
you’re just willing to sacrifice yourself?
that’s not gonna happen — not as long as i’m around.
it’s not worth dying over.
no matter what we do, they’re gone. and they’re never coming back.
sometimes i barely feel like i’m holding it together.
did you really think i wouldn’t find you?
you gonna read me a story?
he begged for his life with tears in his eyes.
for your sake, i hope you’re lying.
you son of a bitch, you promised!
the things i did … it was a nightmare.
i’ll figure something out.
you’re selfish, you know that?
you don’t care about anything other than revenge.
how the hell are we gonna get in?
why are you splashing water on me?
come on. come on, we’ve got to get out of here.
(how are you?) / i’ll survive.
you saved my life back there.
i’m trying to thank you, here.
mad? i’m proud of you.
what the hell has gotten into you?
if you’re so sure, go ahead. kill me.
this was worth the wait.
two wrongs don’t make a right.
i want to know why. why’d you do it?
listen, you mind just getting this over with? ‘cause i really can’t stand the monologuing.
mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth.
you’re not my dad.
it’s inside me. i can feel it.
get back or i’ll kill you. i swear to god.
did i do this?
tell me if they’re okay!
you have to stay still.
i just need to find them.
you look good … considering.
man, tell me you can hear me.
come on, you’re the psychic.
i don’t know if we’re gonna find someone.
so, what? we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?
well you sure know something.
if there’s only one working part, that’s enough.
you got to help me.
you haven’t called a soul for help.
aren’t you gonna do anything? aren’t you even gonna say anything?
i’ve done everything you ever asked me. everything. i’ve given everything i’ve ever had.
how is revenge gonna help him?
i should have never taken you along in the first place.
you get the hell away from me. stay back!
don’t worry, (name). i’m not going anywhere.
why won’t you look at me?
what’s happening to me?
it’s just a dream, that’s all.
i got to say, i’m impressed.
it’s out of my control. it’s just fate.
you always have a choice.
god, i feel like i’m at a slumber party.
alright, (name). this isn’t gonna work.
i’ll be damned.
oh, it’s good to hear from you.
it hasn’t been the same without you, (name).
you can’t kill death.
there’s got to be a way.
thanks for not giving up on me, (name).
this was the only way i could get you to talk to me.
what the hell do you want to talk about?
death is nothing to fear.
you’re living on borrowed time already.
how stupid do you think i am?
you really want an honest answer to that?
i took you for a lot of things, but suicidally reckless wasn’t one of them.
did you really think you could trap me?
i want to make a deal.
i don’t know how to help you. but i’ll keep trying, alright?
i mean, come on, you can’t … you can’t leave me here alone.
(name), you got to hold on.
you can’t go, not now.
we were just starting to be brothers again.
can you hear me?
it’s an honorable death. a warriors death.
you’re very cute.
there’s no such thing as an honorable death.
i’m not going with you. i don’t care what you do.
how do i know this isn’t just another trick?
oh, (name), i’m offended. don’t you trust me?
so we have a deal?
what are you doing that for?
you got some kind of angel watching over you.
you really don’t remember anything?
i had some things to take care of.
why don’t i believe you right now?
can we not fight?
half the time we’re fighting, i don’t know what we’re fighting about.
i just don’t want to fight anymore, okay?
(name), are you alright?
you shouldn’t have had to say that to me.
i put too much on your shoulders.
i made you grow up too fast.
i just want you to know … i am so proud of you.
why are you saying this stuff?
you’re scaring me.
stop asking if i need anything. stop asking if i’m okay.
i’m okay. really. i promise.
come here. i’m gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. maybe we could cry, and hug, and maybe even slow dance.
don’t patronize me, (name).
what do you want me say?
aren’t you angry? don’t you want revenge?
look, don’t be stubborn. you know i can help you.
you’re not gonna hit me again are you?
look, if you don’t want my help, fine.
you didn’t think i remembered, did you?
they’re nice. they’re your friends.
i guess we’ll just have to blend in.
will you give me a little help here?
just because i’m not caring and sharing like you want me to —
these are your issues, quit dumping them on me.
am i gonna see you again?
(name), where did you learn to do all this?
i’m not alright. not at all. but neither are you.
that was beautiful. absolutely beautiful.
he’s the only one who gets to call me that.
something i said?
i can still see her, you know, the way she was.
but, hey, that was a long time ago.
truth is, i’m not handling it very well.
it just feel like there’s this hole inside of you? and it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker?
you and me? we were born to do this. it’s in our blood.
why are you even talking to me?
it’s an insult to his memory.
you can hit me all you want. it won’t change anything.
might as well put her out of her misery.
i just sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.
like i said, (name). no shades of gray.
you knew, and you just didn’t care.
i think you and i got some things to talk about.
i might be like you, i might not. but you’re the one tied up right now.
okay, i’m good now. we can go.
come on. i won’t even hit you back.
yeah, (name), but you didn’t. and that’s what matters.
you’re a pain in my ass.
i guess i might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then.
i don’t want to listen to you! i’m done listening to you!
it just feels like the right thing to do.
i think dad would’ve wanted you to have these.
if something evil happened there, it could have easily poisoned the ground.
well, don’t get too excited. you might pull something.
what else would it be about?
that’s perfectly normal, (name). especially with what you’re going through.
we shouldn’t even be here anymore.
you want to take another swing? go ahead. if it’ll make you feel better.
(name), where are you going?
what’s dead should stay back.
what the hell’s the matter with you?
stop it! that’s enough, okay? that’s enough!
i don’t scare easy, but you’re scaring the crap out of me!
you’re tailspinning, (name), and you refuse to talk about it, and you won’t let me help you.
i can take care of myself, thanks.
are lives are weird, man.
honey, is something bothering you?
haven’t we already talked about that?
haven’t we wasted enough time on him already?
you really think i could do something like that?
you brought me back.
you know what you did.
how could you? i loved you!
you really think this is gonna work?
it’s still me. i’m still a person.
i think she broke my hand.
you wanna stay for awhile?
i’m sorry. for the way i’ve been acting.
it’s my fault that he’s gone.
you can’t tell me there’s not a connection there.
we don’t know that, not for sure.
you’re the most important person in my life.
i never should have come back, (name).
i was dead. and i should have stayed dead.
you wanted to know how i was feeling. well, that’s it.
what could you possibly say to make that alright?
if i ran off with you, your mother might kill me.
you’re not a murderer, (name). you don’t have it in your bones.
i was upset, and i wanted to see you.
i’m sorry, baby, i’ll never leave you again.
what am i supposed to do now?
you mind your tongue with me, boy.
no one in their right mind chooses this life.
it’s my way of being close to him.
it was just a nightmare.
(name), i am trying to help you here, but you have got to be honest with me.
you asked for the truth.
can we make this quick? i’m really tired.
let’s pretend for the moment that you’re not entirely insane.
you’ve seen it, haven’t you?
what happened? talk to me.
these people are actually making deals with the damned things.
so we gotta clean up these peoples mess for them?
so, what, we should just leave them to die?
i don’t know what you’re talking about.
i was weak. i wanted to be great.
who don’t want their life to mean something?
i’m going to hell, one way or another.
you don’t really want to die.
i don’t want to die.
sit tight, alright? we’re gonna figure this out.
are you nuts?
i can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.
now allowed to say no, (name), not unless you’ve got a better idea.
we don’t have time for this.
just keep him alive.
i’m not going to put you out of your misery.
your misery is the whole point. it’s just so fun to watch.
i can’t do this anymore.
it’s all your fault.
i could have brought him back.
what the hell was that for?
shut your mouth, bitch.
it’s not the best time for a bleeding heart, (name).
what if we all have it?
it’s safer if you stay here for now.
i thought we were both going to die. you can’t hold that over me.
you can’t pull that crap with me, man.
why do we have to get stuck with all the responsibility? why can’t we live a little bit?
whatever weight you’re carrying, let me help a little bit.
you can tell me anything, you know what.
you don’t believe me.
he said that i might have to kill you.
take some responsibility for yourself, (name).
the truth is, it’s not your fault. (name), none of it is.
please, you’re in danger.
thank god you’re okay.
this has got to hurt like hell for you.
you can say a lot of stuff about me, but i’m not disloyal, and i’m not stupid.
i’m officially uncomfortable now. thank you.
well, sounds vaguely ominous.
what did you mean i looked the type?
i don’t scare that easy.
i should have found a way to save him.
you can’t save everyone.
the more people i save, the more i can change.
alright, time for bed.
if i ever turn into something i’m not … you have to kill me.
everyone around me dies.
please, you’re the only one who can do it. you have to promise me.
you have nothing to apologize for.
feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn’t it?
it had his face, but it wasn’t his face.
how’d you even know i was here?
i was chosen … for redemption.
hey, man, you’ve got to try this.
you’re enjoying that way too much, it’s kind of making me uncomfortable.
wait, there’s no such thing as unicorns?
i believe in what i can see.
i’m not enabling your sick habit.
there’s just chaos and violence, and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds.
you want me to believe in this stuff? i’m gonna need to see some hard proof.
this is vengeance. this is wrong.
men cannot be angels.
what you’re doing is not god’s will.
“thou shalt not kill”. that’s the word of god.
weren’t we gonna go to the movies?
we should go, or we’re gonna be late.
look, i said i was sorry.
are you sure you’re okay?
you’re just one person, (name).
(name), it’s me.
are you bleeding?
i tried to wash it off.
i don’t think it’s my blood.
(name), what the hell happened?
(name), i don’t … remember anything.
what did you find out?
nobody’s noticed anything unusual.
nobody saw me walking around, covered in blood?
how the hell did i get here?
what happened to me?
what if i hurt someone, or worse?
we don’t know what happened.
what’s the last thing you remember?
it just … feels familiar, you know?
please tell me you didn’t steal this.
i’m not thinking anything.
okay, now this is disturbing.
look, i just want to talk to you, that’s it, okay?
oh, do you a favor. that’s what i live for.
what’s going on with you, (name)?
i don’t know how i know, i just do.
i’d say they don’t like surprises.
should we knock?
even if you did do this, i’m sure you had a reason.
i killed him, (name).
you’ve gotta snap out of it.
you never told me this.
i didn’t want to scare you.
no one can control you but you.
you promised me.
we’re gonna figure this out, okay?
i don’t want to hurt anyone else.
i don’t want to hurt you.
whatever this is, you can fight it.
you know, i’ve tried so hard to keep you safe.
you’ll live to regret this.
how’d you find me?
that looks like it hurt.
just had a run - in with a hot stove.
you’re really carrying a torch for him, aren’t you?
romance — that’s just out of the question.
i’m not trying to hurt you, (name).
i’m telling you because i care.
i care about you a lot.
maybe you should leave.
it didn’t have to be this way.
you’re not (name).
you really don’t know the truth, do you?
he put him out of his misery like a sick dog.
why are you doing this to me?
shoot me.
are you that scared of being alone?
that’s holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!
i got lots of names.
why didn’t you kill me? you had a dozen chances.
would you give me two minutes to patch you up?
how did you know he was possessed?
i know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth, too?
i’m part of this now.
this is my fight. i’m not getting your blood on my hands.
so, what bring you?
well, it’s good to see you.
don’t try to con a con man.
(name), back from the dead. getting to be a regular thing for you, isn’t it?
how about i smack that smartass out of your mouth?
careful, now. wouldn’t want to bruise this fine packaging.
oh, don’t worry, this isn’t gonna hurt you much.
feel like talking now?
i’ll make him bite off his tongue.
you’re not getting (name), you understand?
i’m gonna kill every one of you first.
i don’t give a rats ass about the master plan.
this isn’t going like i pictured.
you know when people want to describe the worst possible thing, they say it’s like hell? there’s a reason for that.
hell is a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear. and you sent me back there.
whatever i do to you, it’s nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it?
they’d have been better off without you.
by the way, you really look like crap, (name).
you wouldn’t know anything about that?
that sounds vaguely dirty, but, uh, thanks.
you okay? (name)? is that you in there?
i watched myself kill (name) with my own two hands. i saw the light go out in his eyes.
it must have been awful.
it wasn’t you.
if it’s the last thing i do, i’m gonna save you.
dude, that’s not how it happened!
sorry, i just … i can’t even concentrate.
if you wouldn’t mind, just give five minutes.
you brave little solider.
thanks, thanks for the hug, but, uh — i’m okay.
what are you talking about? i’m a joy to be around.
okay, that is just nasty.
looks to me like something was hungry.
i have had it up to here with you.
then you know that i can’t keep letting you hurt people.
come on! those people got what’s coming to them.
i don’t think i can let you do that.
i don’t want to hurt you. and i know that i can.
like i said, i liked you. but you shouldn’t have come alone.
you wanna see a real trick?
could we please just leave?
okay, so we’re taking the scenic route.
stop. i’m mad at you.
hey, you love me.
you’re a jerk.
i’m so sorry. i didn’t see you there.
you’ve got to help me.
we should get somewhere safe first.
what the hell just happened?
don’t worry, (name), everything’s going to be alright.
you’re serious about this, aren’t you?
just take it easy, alright?
something happened to them. something they couldn’t control.
i sure as hell ain’t making apologies for them.
we’re all just scared of the unknown.
the only thing i’m scared of is losing (name).
i have to see him again. i have to.
i don’t like keeping her in the dark.
i know you feel guilty, but let’s just stick to the plan.
what aren’t you telling me?
don’t what? don’t tell me because i’ll mess up your hunt?
whatever it is, tell me, please.
you’re like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.
what did you do to him?
you should worry about yourself.
i didn’t do anything to you.
hurting me won’t bring her back.
all i got left’s hurting you.
what am i supposed to do?
this isn’t working at all, is it?
i’ll see you in the morning.
maybe we should talk privately.
god, i am so stupid.
well, i guess neither of us are who we said we were, huh?
i don’t remember anything,
is there something else we can try to make it go away?
i’m sorry. i am.
stop it. don’t talk like that.
i don’t want to hurt anyone else. i don’t want to hurt you.
i can’t do it myself.
i need you to help me.
i don’t want to die.
we don’t have a chance.
i am getting out of here right now.
no, come on, we’ve got to work.
i - i don’t really know what i’m doing.
isn’t that kind of cruel? messing with their heads like that?
hey, i just play the part. i don’t write the script.
i’m very glad that you’re, you know, alive and well.
you won’t get rid of me that easy.
i’m sorry, what were you saying?
raising these spirits from the dead? making them murder for you? that’s playing with fire, (name).
you know what, you’re right, i don’t understand.
i’ve got nothing against you. you’ve got no part in this. please, just leave.
i cannot believe there’s an afterlife.
there’s an afterlife alright — but mostly it’s a pain in the ass.
i wouldn’t have done that if i were you.
they’re not gonna be very happy with you.
would have hated to have gotten thrown in here.
hey, you feel that?
you telling me you didn’t see that?
i think i’m adorable.
we’re not quite done here.
this is, without a doubt, the dumbest and craziest thing we’ve ever done. and that’s in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy.
i’m not thrilled about this, either.
do yourself a favor: don’t talk.
i want to handle this alone.
i can’t thank you enough for this.
oh, man, are you a sight for sore eyes.
i am the last person on planet earth you want to screw with.
what are you doing up?
oh, you can’t sleep, huh?
(are you alright?) / i don’t know.
honey, you’re scaring me.
just tell me what’s going on.
forget it. i’m just happy to see you.
i guess i was wrong.
are you sure you’re alright?
get some rest. i love you.
you been drinking?
i’m really glad you’re happy.
i get it. why i chose you.
why do we have to sacrifice everything?
that was so easy, i’m embarrassed for you.
i’m sorry that we don’t get along. and i wish to hell i could stay and fix it, but i’ve got to do this.
you’re just gonna slow me down.
this is dangerous, and you could get hurt.
look, whatever stupid thing you’re about to do, you’re not doing it alone, and that’s that.
i don’t understand. why are you doing this?
you don’t want to do that.
yeah, i can see that it’s blood, (name). what the hell’s it doing in here?
there are things out there in the dark.
i’m just trying to help you out, (name).
why don’t you just sit tight and try not to get us both killed.
there’s nothing here, (name).
stick behind me and keep your mouth shut.
this is real? you’re not crazy?
why’d you have to keep digging?
put the knife down, (name).
you’re not real. none of it is.
why is it our job to save everyone? haven’t we done enough?
are you lost?
still doesn’t tell us where we are.
i feel like i’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse.
you said we were chosen for a reason! that is not chosen, that’s … killed!
i don’t think god has much to do with this.
hey, look at me, it’s not even that bad.
hey, listen to me, we’re gonna patch you up, okay? gonna be good as new.
i’m gonna take care of you. i got you. that’s my job, right?
you should eat something.
i hate to bring this up, i really do. but don’t you think it’s time we … bury (name)?
i’m not going anywhere.
i just don’t think you should be alone, that’s all.
you don’t think i’ve given enough? you don’t think i’ve paid enough? i’m done with it.
i should send you straight back to hell.
you’re like a … puppy. you’re just too fun to play with.
i swear i’m gonna tear that son of a bitch apart.
i did what you asked. now what?
that was pretty cold, wasn’t it?
you of all people should know that what’s dead should stay dead.
i knew i kept you alive for some reason.
can we celebrate for a minute?
(name), tell me the truth.
you shouldn’t have done that.
don’t get mad at me. don’t do that. i had to. i had to look out for you, that’s my job.
you saved my life over and over. you sacrifice everything for me. don’t you think i should do the same for you?
there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you.
i don’t care what it takes. i’m gonna get you out of this.
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ashley-foster-13 · 11 months ago
Note
PLS will you do Minho x best friend reader who is his running partner and they have their first kiss in the maze? Tysm love you queen
The day wasn’t as good as Y/n wish it was.
Nightmares about the Maze and the Grievers kept her awake at night, the dark circles under her eyes were obvious. She’d barely eaten any breakfast because she was late for her usual run with Minho.
Her best friend Minho.
The Keeper of the Runners wasn’t what she wished of him, either. Not that she didn’t like him, quite the opposite – he was perfect. Annoying, sometimes, but she wanted him still.
Maybe, at the same time she didn’t. She didn’t want to want him if he didn’t want her back.
The thoughts consumed Y/n so much she accidentally bumped into a wall, missing the entrance to the Maze by a few inches.
“Ow, the wall must be hurt,” Minho mocked, guiding her and starting to jog, “You cool?”
“Totally,” she turned away, suppressing a yawn.
And so they ran and ran, Y/n tripping over every few steps.
“For Griever’s sake.”
“Holy klunk.”
“Oh, you can’t be serious!”
She already felt a few bruises blooming on her knees and ankles.
“No, seriously, are you okay, Y/n?” he seemed concerned. When she didn’t react, he grabbed and shook her by the shoulders slightly, “Y/n!” he called again.
Suddenly she wished he would kiss her.
Suddenly she wanted to kill him.
Thoughts tangled in her mind and wouldn’t let her concentrate on the situation at hand.
“I told you I’m-”
So she kissed the wall instead. Again.
Her face met with the stupid stone, sending the rush of pain though her nose. Small, but quick drops of blood leaked onto her clothes. Some of the red liquid got into her mouth, the nasty feeling of nausea washing over her.
Oh, that definitely wasn’t good.
She didn’t notice Minho at her side until now. He looked concerned. Concerned for his best friend.
“Y/n, you alright?”
He tried to place his hand on her cheek to get a closer look at her injury, but she didn’t let him. She punched a wall instead.
Why the hell today is so terrible?
She hated it. She hated him for not seeing the obvious. She hated him for… everything. Or maybe she hated herself.
She didn’t want it anymore.
She was tired, and overthinking, and in pain and sick of this place and Minho not loving her the way she wanted him to. She was tired of fantasizing about them at night.
She was tired.
Hot tears streamed down her face, mixing with blood still dripping from her nose as she lowered to the ground.
Maybe she screamed. She didn’t know.
Until a pair of warm arms wrapped tightly around her.
“Don’t hate me,” Minho whispered in Y/n’s ear, startling her, “And certainly don’t hate yourself.”
So she did scream all of that out loud. And he did hear all of that. If there Y/n and her bad day were at a competition of “who makes Y/n’s day worse than it already is”, well, she would win. Twice.
Not having anything to say, or any strength to speak anyway, she just sniffed.
Minho’s arms moved to her shoulder blades, his fingers trailing small patterns on her back, sending tiny waves of warmth down her back. And it felt wonderful, and she had no strength to tell herself otherwise.
“If you’re tired, you can always tell me,” he began again quietly, his breath tickling her skin. “You can have a day off. Oversleep.” He was silent for a few moments, then spoke almost inaudibly, but she heard him, “And I… I do love you. I really do.”
At that, Y/n couldn’t help but look up at the runner, totally forgetting her blood-and-tear stained face.
She could’ve sworn to the Grievers that Minho, the Minho, blushed. Well, she wasn’t feeling any less flustered either.
He let out a small, awkward laugh, running a hand though his hair. “Jeez, I’ve been crazy about you since, I can’t even remember when.”
Tired as she is, Y/n leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder. Her hands touched his shoulders and squeezed slightly.
Minho hoped she didn’t notice the goosebumps on his neck. “I love you, too,” she whispered sheepishly.
Both were grinning like idiots as they sat there, sharing an embrace. Sweaty, bloody, gross, but all in all tender.
“How about we go back, huh?” after a while said Minho.
“Alby will be mad,” Y/n’s weakly protested. She did want to go back.
“Alby will be even more mad if you won’t make it back at all, and we can’t have that,” he got up, extending a hand for her to take. Luckily they weren’t far from the Glade, because Y/n was already feeling quite fatigued from, well, today.
One corner before the Doors, she stopped.
“Minho.”
And as he turns around, Y/n takes two strides toward him and presses her lips to his.
And, oh, this man really knew how to keep his composure, because while his hands were instantly on her waste and his lips moved in sync with hers, his heart was racing like crazy.
Kissing her was wonderful. And while in his imagination it was pretty much amazing, too, still the reality was far better.
Far, far, far better.
Both leaned back, a bit out of breath. Y/n didn’t looked away, murmured a quiet “Love you,” again and headed to the Glade.
Minho stood there for a few moments, not believing what just happened. Then, followed his girlfriend back home.
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multiheadcanons · 3 months ago
Text
OKAY PART TWO. I GOT A PIERCING AND A TATTOO SCHEDULED FOR MONDAY I FEEL BETTER. MERCS TENDING TO YOUR WOUNDS!
scout: scout can do some basic first aid. he knows cpr pretty confidently, and knows what disinfectant is and how to apply a bandaid. scout, if he’s feeling really cocky, may even administer a shot. he doesn’t mind a little blood, and if you don’t want to deal with a nasty scrape he can do something for you to keep you from going to the doctor. he gets it, that guy’s a weirdo.
soldier: soldier will spit on it, rub dirt in the wound, like really massage it in to make sure you get every form of disease imaginable, then rinse it out with water and slap the wound. you’re good to go. if it’s a nasty wound you’ve managed to acquire, he might even put a ratty bandage on it that he keeps handy, just to make sure you don’t bleed out. otherwise, walk it off. you may want to make a stop to the infirmary after soldier leaves you be.
pyro: pyro keeps a disinfectant and bandaids on hand. as long as you’re not gravely injured, pyro can help, at least a little. always very gentle, they almost tend to you like a wild animal. and if pyro can’t help, pyro knows exactly where the infirmary is, and will sit with you in there if you don’t want to be alone with the doctor. they get it, he’s kinda weird!
demo: tavish is not the most prepared man in the world, but he will always have liquor strong enough to kill bacteria on hand. he will douse your wound in it, quickly blot off the excess, and get you both either to a first aid kit or the doctor, apologizing and reassuring you the whole way. it makes him feel so bad to see you in pain. it makes him feel worse to not be prepared. he forgets not everyone has a doctor on site. but he can do what he can, and that’s okay for now.
heavy: heavy is proficient in first aid. heavy can handle mostly everything up to a broken bone. he normally causes those, so he never bothered to learn how to fix them. normally when he breaks them he meant for that to happen, you know, but anything that is less severe he can handle with relative ease! it is not a skill he has to showcase any longer, but sometimes he likes to flex it, if only to impress his teammates… a little. or if the, or any doctor isn’t available. he’s pretty handy to have around!
engineer: engineer doesn’t consider himself a man of medicine. that’s not quite his field of science. he can get you a dispenser set up, or he can put some disinfectant and a bandaid on something and give it a little slap. he can even cauterize a wound before he does that but that’s about all he can do. he will also make the joke to slam your head into a wall, and you’ll think more about the headache than the prior pain. but there isn’t much he can do for anything past a bad boo-boo with his own hands. and he will, reluctantly, go with you to the infirmary if you ask him to. it’s cold down there. he doesn’t like it. and the doc’s an oddball. he likes him even less.
medic: the doctor really isn’t the one to approach for a little scrape. he has better to contend with. once you get into dislocations and sprains, you’ve got his attention. those are things he’s willing to spare a moment of time to. it really doesn’t take any time to push a nose, or a shoulder back into place. splints are fairly easy to create, even with rudimentary tools, but you can really get him going with a nasty case. he is a useful friend in emergencies. it may be a little spooky, he may be a little sloppy, but he can take care of you. and he’d never admit it publicly, but he hates losing patients. he will do his best to keep you alive. at least while you’re on the table.
sniper: sniper is proficient at first aid! he doesn’t step foot in the infirmary unless he’s missing limbs or it’s time for his physical. sniper can handle everything up to a broken bone, and has a penchant for field medicine. this isn’t to say he’s a super genius, he’s just picked up on what he needed to know from living in the outback. sometimes you just don’t have access to a doctor, or you can’t get to the hospital, and sniper is best for these moments. he can get and keep you clean of infection until you can get to someone with more knowledge than he’s got. in most recent times, the “person with more knowledge” is the doctor, and he’s learning to be okay with that.
spy: spy knows intermediate first aid, but he rarely ever wants to use it. the best he will do for you is different from the best he can do for you. this is a very important distinction to learn now. the best he will do is take you to the infirmary, or give you a heimlich if you’re choking and he happens to be in the room. he’s moreso the one you go to for… willing wounds. tattoos, piercings, the best he will do for you the aftercare and jewelry changing. but spy has lived many lives before this. and being stuck on an island with the man is not grounds for death, yet. the best he can do is never the best he’s willing to do.
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