#but don’t keep reassuring me it looks good and then undermine me like that

[sassmill]

My brain is like. Weird right now. Is it related to not taking my Lexapro because I know it doesn’t interact well with dayquil and I needed the post nasal drip to stop? Theoretically but also this has been building for days.

[lost-soul-in-time]

Oliver is like anyone he's ever been with. And Aaron's not sure if he likes it or not.

The man is distant. Not cold or uncaring, but he never lets him get too close. They talk, a lot. Well, Oliver does most of the talking, because Aaron's life is pretty uninteresting, and because he doesn't actually like talking about himself. He's paid to listen to his customer talk about his day, maybe get him a drink or two if he's in the mood for it.

He's tried several times to get Oliver to accept a dance, but he always gets shot down. Never rudely, though.

Aaron can't fathom why the man wants him, specifically. The others, especially Amethyst, are way better at these types of customers. Aaron's just a pretty face with a great mouth and shitty attitude. That's all that ever is to him, in the eyes of the patrons and boss.

He likes the money, likes not having to actually work that hard to get paid, but... something in him wants more from Oliver. All the subtle rejections have left him feeling undesirable, which is wrecking his, admittedly overinflated, ego.

Tonight, Oliver's complaining about a coworker of his, relaxing in the private room's luxurious seats, and Aaron decides to bite the bullet. He doesn't really want to risk the best thing that has happened to him in the past years, but he feels like he's losing his mind.

"Oliver?" He asks quietly, taking advantage of a natural pause in the man's speech. He'd dropped the cutesy nicknames he used for patrons a while ago, when it was clear that they weren't working. He called Oliver by his name, or 'sir' if it fit in the moment. "May I— May I do something for you? To thank you."

It's the first time he's not trying to seduce Oliver, but rather asking for his permission. His reasons are his own, tied to his self-image and worth, but the man doesn't need to know that. He slowly slides from his perch next to him, down to the floor in front of him, looking up through painted lashes.

"I—" Fuck, he hates feeling vulnerable. "Please, sir?" Just let me make you feel good so I can stop feeling like a failure. "You've been so good to me, and I—"

Oliver’s not sure why he keeps coming back, why he keeps paying for a dance he never wants and then some, just to talk. He’s truly reached a new level of low, hasn’t he?

Talon is more of a listener, he’s noticed, and that’s fine. He had no issue answering and telling. There was lots he had to speak on, something he realized once they’d begun to have their weekly conversations. There were moments where he’d coax a few sentences out of his listener, but he didn’t seem to budge of certain topics.

He never pushed too much for information. There was only so much a person was willing to give when they were still becoming acquainted.

Landon had gotten on his nerves today. It’s always the ones who were desperate to prove themselves who would interfere with others’ jobs in the process. The way he’d tried to step in during the discussion of a case, tried to make him look as if he hadn’t a clue what he was doing—

He didn’t like being undermined. Especially when they were all working under the roof of a building run under his family’s name.

But that thought is quickly set aside when Talon interrupts him, quiet and meek and very different from how he usually is, and begins to move himself— oh.

He’s caught off guard, that much is clear, and his words die in his mouth as Talon gets down to the ground. Where was this coming from? “Who says you haven’t been good to me as well?”

His tone is calm, gentle yet firm in his reassurances, just as always. It’s how he is, always will be. Hesitating, he reaches a hand out to brush the knelt man’s hair back and away from his face, staring down at him with a mix of confusion and a want to understand.

“I don’t find you unappealing. That’s not the foundation of my rejections… I won’t do a thing if it’s not what you want, and I wont let you do so if I can tell.”

[nikibogwater]

Niki Blethers: Daniel Spellbound season 2 First Impressions:

Okay, Netflix, you guys seriously need to get your advertising act together because I was completely unaware that this show had been confirmed for a season 2, let alone that it was already out. 

Uuuuuuggggghhh, the character/monster design is still SO FREAKIN’ GOOD.

I love how Daniel just throws Hoagie at every gross/dangerous thing they encounter. The little snot has had it coming for way too long.

So it looks like it’s been a little while since the ending of the first season, which I wasn’t expecting. Considering the last episode of season 1 ended with Daniel booking it for his life from the Tracker’s Guild, I assumed we’d pick up right where we left off. But I actually kind of like the timeskip here. Daniel is no longer panicked and confused, he is just downright desperate, and quickly losing hope.

Aww, I’m really loving Lucy here. She’s very driven and passionate, and really wants to change the magical world for the better. And I love that Daniel and Hoagie are the only ones she trusts enough to tell about her ambitions. 

Aaaaaand there’s the forced character conflict. -_- 

Hey kids, you ever heard of this new-fangled thing called communication? You should try it some time. Really makes things a lot easier. 

What--HOAGIE DON’T STOP HER. SHE WAS TRYING TO APOLOGIZE! 

Okay, fine, I will give Hoagie a tiny bit of credit, he and Daniel do finally get a moment to just talk to each other, and Hoagie reassuring Daniel that he’ll stick with him no matter what was sweet (if a little bit unearned...) 

Kind of undermined by the fact that he just prevented Daniel and Lucy from clearing up a misunderstanding that is clearly causing Daniel even more grief than he already has to deal with but OKAY MOVING ON TO MORE POSITIVITY!

I adore Shak. She just radiates Chaotic Youngest Child energy. An overeager, inexperienced, sassy little spitfire. She must be protected at all costs.

Oh, she’s looking for her long-lost big brother... 🥺💔

OH??? OH WHAT’S THIS???? IS THAT A FOUND FAMILY BROTHER-SISTER DYNAMIC I SEE FORMING BETWEEN DANIEL AND SHAK?????? 👀

Wow, okay, I forgot that sometimes this show can be surprisingly brutal. Daniel getting impaled by those magical spears caught me totally off-guard (but in a good way). 

Also I would like to re-iterate a point I made in a past Blethers post: Daniel is a Whump-magnet. I haven’t checked the fanfic community for this show yet, but I’d bet a nickel that it’s mostly Daniel Whump fics. 

As critical as I get with this show, I do genuinely enjoy it, and finding out there was already a second season out was a really nice surprise. I feel like some of my criticisms of season 1 are already being addressed, and that makes me hopeful that Daniel Spellbound will keep improving throughout its runtime. Again, I do recommend this show for anyone who enjoys animation. Even with its flaws, it’s still a very fun and creative romp with really likable characters (sans Hoagie) and a fascinating world.

[itsclydebitches]

Thinking today about how Centaurworld’s absurdity not only manages to exist alongside its serious plot, but by the end of the story succeeds in enhancing it. Ridiculousness is built into its DNA, meaning that silliness isn’t just a tool used to entertain the audience, it’s the rules by which Centaurworld — the literal world adjacent to the “normal” human world within the story — runs. Centaurworld not only keeps its humor consistent across its two seasons (thereby acclimating us to it over time), it encourages everyone to look at the ridiculous in a new light. A good portion of Horse’s journey is learning to appreciate this colorful, often nonsensical, fart-laden dimension she’s dropped into. As she learns to respect her herd, their talents, and shed the superiority attached to being a hardened, emotionless warrior, we learn that same respect along with her. As Horse learns to not just embrace change, but to take herself seriously as a bubble-shaped, flouncy, tail-talking steed, we learn to take her seriously in that form too. Once she’s reunited with Rider, Horse has enough appreciation for how Centaurworld functions that she can reassure her that yes, these people are both worthy and capable of becoming an army. Rider trusts her in this, so why wouldn’t we?

By the time we reach the point where Rider is presumably dying and Horse is sobbing at her side, there’s no disconnect between the emotion of that moment and Horse’s rainbow tears. Or Wammawink fiercely climbing the mountaintop to protect her herd and doing so with giggle cakes. The audience isn’t just accepting of this absurdity because haha cartoons, the story has consistently acknowledged that absurdity through our outsider, Horse, and taught her (taught us) that it’s not something to dismiss as just a joke. It still functions as a joke, but one that’s so normalized and embraced with such heartfelt sincerity that it feeds into the emotional moments, rather than undermining them. Rather than feeling like our deep, serious death scene is interrupted by the stupid, silly detail, Centaurworld has spent since Episode 1 blurring the line between comedy and tragedy, so what was once funny is now... not. Why wouldn’t Horse cry rainbow tears for her Rider? Those are her natural tears now. Why wouldn’t Wammawink use her giggle cakes? They’re a long-established tool that’s going to help her save her family.

I don’t really have a point here beyond, “This is great.” I’m not sure I’ve ever watched a show that struck that balance quite so well. When I first saw Centaurworld’s trailer, I immediately wrote it off as something that wasn’t for me. It was only when someone else here on tumblr posted about the opening scene and I saw the contrast between it and the trailer that I went, “Hold on. How are these from the same show? Have the writers actually managed to fit these two tones together?” and the more I watched, the more I discovered that yes, they succeeded brilliantly. Though Centaurworld is rightly compared to shows like Steven Universe that also balance silly concepts atop a devastating backstory, I don’t think silliness is used in quite the same way. Whereas most cartoons in the same vein let their more absurd elements take a back seat while the serious plot stuff happens, Centaurworld leans so hard into its own nonsense that you can’t help but circle right around and take it seriously. I can’t recall a show with quite that same confidence and I heartily recommend that others give it a try.

[i-cant-sing]

I wonder what would happen if Y/N had a really bad day and just decided to pick a sibling from the Yan!Todoroki clan like a cat would pick its person and just?? Sit in their lap?? They'd say 'I had a terrible day, no torture today please' before taking their well-deserved nap lookin' all cute and peaceful. Then the sibling would be so proud and confused at the same time but really really happy like 'omg for real? Me? What's happening?? 🥺'. Bonus points if it's Dabi just having the widest grin on his face while staring straight at the rest of the fam seething with jealousy.

I saw your works btw and been inhalin em all cause they're all so good *chef's kiss*

-Vibin' anon

Yandere Dabi comforting sister reader

This is so cute omg. Thank u Vibin anon!

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Dabi:

Shotou had come to pick you up from school today. Even though he had a busy schedule himself, he still made time for you, just like the rest if your family.

"How was school?" He asked.

"Fine."

"Just fine? Wasn't your result supposed to come today?"

You nodded. "It did. I passed."

Shotoy smiled. "Thats great. Did you get your report card?"

You knew he was going to ask for it. You also knew that he already knew what grades you got.

You nodded and handed him the report card from your bag.

Shotou's face lit up when he saw your grades.

"You're first again. I'm so proud of you." He patted your head.

You smiled. "Thanks."

By the time you guys reached home, you already knew that your entire family was home. They always were when your result came. You knew the principal had already informed Enji of your grades, she always does.

When you entered the house, your family yelled "surprise!" You feigned shock as they hugged you and congratulated you on your achievement.

Rei had prepared a little feast for you, everything was made from scratch. Enji was beaming with joy, he was so proud of his little girl. Rei had made your favourite cake, kissing your cheek as you cut it. Enji had gotten you beautiful diamond necklace. Natsuo, Shotou and Fuyumi had gotten you some gifts as well, stuff you had vaguely mentioned about. Dabi wasn't home, but you didn't mind his absence.

Your family had planned to spend the night on the couch cuddling and doing a movie marathon, but when you asked them to excuse you for the night because you were feeling tired, they became a but worried. You reassured them that you just had a long day at school as well, and now that you were stuffed with Rei's delicious food, sleep was inevitable. They nodded, a bit sad that you wouldn't be joining, but understanding nonetheless.

You went up the stairs to your room, and as soon as you closed the door, the smile you had been displaying all night was wiped off.

You sat on your bed and recalled the events of the day. Tears pricked your eyes, but you kept yourself quiet. They're not worthy crying over, you reminded yourself. Still, you couldn't help but crumple up your report card and throw it in the dustbin.

Silent tears fell from your eyes, no longer being able to hold them in. God, its infuriating.

Suddenly, you heard someone knock on your bedroom door. You looked at the clock. 12 am.

Its Dabi.

You couldn't deal with him tonight. You remained silent, hoping he'd leave you alone.

But of course not.

You quickly turned away from the door as soon as you heard it open. Wiping your tears quickly, you heard Dabi come in.

"You brat. Why didn't you answer when I knocked?" He asked, pushing the door close with his foot.

"Leave me alone, Dabi." You were trying hard to stabilise your voice.

"Huh?! Is that anyway to talk to your favourite brother?" Dabi mocked as he pulled at your ponytail. You yelped before turning around to push him away.

Dabi was about to laugh at you when he suddenly noticed the your face. Your eyes were full of tears, lashes heavy with them. Your face was flush, your nostrils flared, your lips in a pulled in a tight scowl. Had you been crying? Or did he make you cry?

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"Just leave me alone." You said as you angrily wiped the tears from your face.

Dabi was shocked to see you like this. He had never seen you cry, not even when he took his teasing a little too far. So, to see you react like this, it worried him a bit.

"Have you been crying? What's the matter? Did you fail or something?" His voice actually held some concern.

You shook your head, pulling your ponytail loose. "Its nothing. Just leave."

Dabi could see the pain in your eyes. What happened? He plopped down on your bed next to you. "Come on. Tell me." He poked your shoulder. "You know I won't leave until you tell me."

"Its nothing, really." You sniffled, avoiding his gaze.

"Did Enji say something?" Dabi asked, his voice taking a dangerous tone. "Look at me. Did he do something?" He's going to kill that bastard if he-

"What? No. God, just go."

Dabi let out a huff. He'll have to use another strategy. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just tell Shotou you have been crying, and then you can answer to him."

Shotou? God, he would just overthink everything and do something stupid.

You caught his wrist just as he was about to leave. "Do you have to be such a jerk every single day?" You glared daggers at him.

Dabi smirked before pulling his wrist away and plopping on the bed next to you. "Yes. Big brother privileges." He poked your cheek. "Now spill."

You looked at him, hoping he'd just get blasted magically. Idiot.

You inhaled deeply before closing your eyes. "Its stupid, really." Dabi stared at you, signalling for you to continue. "Something... happened at school." You paused. "Just a couple of assholes."

Dabi was attentive now. "Go on."

You looked down at your lap, playing with your fingers. "Some kids in my class... they said mean things about me."

"Bullying?" Dabi quirked an eyebrow.

You shook your head. "I- I don't think so. They just said that I only get the highest grade in class because of my dad. Like Enji bribes the school into giving me good marks." You sniffled. "They undermine me. They say I'm not good enough to be in their school, and that the only reason I got in was because of my surname."

Tears dripped down your face slowly, almost as if they were ashamed to fall.

You wiped them away harshly. "And it doesn't matter what I say. I've tried to befriend them, I've tried to get along with them, but they still ridicule me. Its frustrating. They... they don't understand that my only option is to be the best." You whispered the last part, but Dabi heard you loud and clear.

He sat up and gently gripped your chin, turning your face towards him as he narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean 'its your only option'?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know what I mean. I know that no one in the family cares if I get the highest marks or not but...I still have to live up to the family name. What will people say if the number 1 hero's kid is both quirkless and dumb?" Your lips wobbled.

Oh. Ohhhh.

You don't want to let down the Todoroki name; you don't want to let down Enji.

He already knew it was that shithead's fault.

Dabi sighed before pulling you close to him. Placing an arm around your shoulders while his other hand wiped your tears away.

Wanting to prove your worth, that you're a valuable asset to the family. Dabi never thought he'd see himself in you, or his younger self really.

"You're an idiot." Dabi began, carding his fingers through your hair. "You don't have to be the best. You're not expected to. You know, the family knows, hell even I know how hard you worked to get in that school. I've seen how you'd do all nighters, how many times you've turned down going out so that you could do well in your exams. But you don't have to do that." He tilted your chin up, staring into your glossy eyes. "We don't care what the public thinks of us. We won't care if you fail. We don't care you're quirkless. You're not expected to be anything but a good girl." He squished your cheeks together, making you look like a fish. "You just need to be safe. Do you understand?"

You sniffled as you nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

Dabi smiled. "Why didn't you tell anyone before?" You shrugged in response. "You know what would've happened if I said anything. They're already hesitant to let me go to school, this would just give them another reason to homeschool me. Besides, I didn't let their words get to me before, so it really wasn't a big deal." Before? You were about to continue but then kept your mouth shut. But Dabi saw that. He pulled you away from him, his eyes turning sharp as he raised his eyebrows. "But something else happened today as well?"

You averted his scrutinising gaze, keeping your lips sealed as you shook your head no. "Do not lie to me. Or I'll tell Shotou and Enji and then they can handle-"

Your eyes widened. "Do you ever stop making threats?" Rolling your eyes, you told him what happened. "It wasn't anything serious. One of those jerks... thought it'd be funny to try and kiss me. When he tried to force me, I slapped him. Really hard. My handprint still on his face." You smiled at that. "He said the only reason he wasn't using his quirk on me was because I was Todorokis charity case. Then he said that I should be grateful that he was going to kiss me, especially since no one cares about a quirkless, frigid bitch like me." You let out a humourless laugh, but Dabi could see the pain in your eyes. You gave a small smile. "Dont worry. I already know what they said isn't true."

Thats it.

Dabi was already planning murder. He's going to make those little shits pay for what they did to you. The nerve to not only bully you, but make you cry, and then touch you? Dabi is gonna make sure they get tortured in every way possible before he incinerates them-

"Dabi?"

Your soft voice pulled him out of his violent thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Can you... stay the night?"

He looked at your tear stricken face, your eyes were still laden with tear drops, your nose red from all the sniffling.

How could he say no to you? You looked ugly.

"Its okay. You don't have to-" you were cut off by a pillow hitting your face.

"Move over, brat." He climbed in the bed with you, covering you both with the blanket. "And don't put your cold feet on mine." You smiled cheekily at that.

"Don't hog the blanket- why do you need it anyway?"you yanked the blanket.

Dabi pushed another pillow on your face, laughing as you punched his shoulder. "You're insufferable."you mumbled.

It took a while to get comfortable on your single bed, but it ended up with your head on his chest, while Dabi propped himself against the headboard.

"Thank you." You whispered.

Dabi hummed. "Dont think I don't know why you're doing this."

You smiled softly. He caught on to why you were keeping him home that night; you knew he would do something terrible to those guys. "Promise me you won't hurt them?"

Dabi remained silent. You pulled your head away to look up at him. "Dabi. Promise."

When he didn't reply, tears started forming your eyes. He sighed, before shoving your face back into his chest. "Fine, crybaby. I won't hurt them. Promise." You're such a brat, stopping him from doing his big brother duties.

You went back to snuggling him, not taking long for you to finally go to sleep. Once Dabi made sure you were asleep, he pulled out his phone and texted Toga.

"Need a favour. Up 4 stabbing?"

[ok-ish-hermitcraft-headcanons]

Ok so I’m literally in the middle of drawing Jornoth fanart but I got inspired by who knows what so here we are, short fic vaguely based on some of my earliest headcannons!

False was worried about Gem. The newer hermit had been avoiding both her and Stress lately, and when they had met up she had been coughing a lot, however much she tried to hide it. And that was why she was headed over to her base with the intention of confronting her about it.

She found Gem standing in front of a half complete building, hands on her hips with her head tilted in consideration. There was what looked like a branch sticking out of her mouth, moving up and down as she idly chewed it. False stepped the rest of the way out of the bushes and cleared her throat, noticing how quickly Gem dropped the branch and kicked it away.

“False! I wasn’t expecting you, what brings-” Gem got cut of by a coughing fit and False winced in sympathy, it sounded bad. “Sorry, what brings you here?”

“Well, that.” False took a hesitant step forward, trying to seem as non threatening as possible. “Gem, Stress and I are worried about you. You’ve been avoiding us and that cough sounds nasty, we just want to help.”

Gem’s eyes widened and darted unconsciously to the branch, False’s own following the movement.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine, really! I’ve just been busy, that’s all!”

Her argument was somewhat undermined by another coughing fit that had her doubling over and False rushing to support her.

“Gem, you’re clearly not ok. Come on, talk to me. Or if you don’t want to talk to me, talk to Stress, or Pearl, hels, even X! But you can’t keep going on like this, alright?”

But the last part was lost on Gem as her eyes widened and she shook her head fiercely, looking up at False with pleading eyes.

“You can’t tell Xisuma! Please False, I don’t want to have to leave!”

False was confused, but she pushed it down and tried to keep a reassuring tone.

“X isn’t going to kick you out for being sick Gem, you’re a hermit unless you decide to leave, remember?”

Gem didn’t meet False’s eyes as she picked up the branch she had previously cast aside, allowing False to see the many bite marks in it, chunks of bark and wood missing.

“I’m not sick, I’ve just being chewing on this. I know it’s bad for me, I know it’s childish and stupid, but I can’t stop and it helps me focus.” She ducked away from False and kept her gaze to the ground as she hunched in on herself. “So that’s it. Go ahead and make fun of me or blackmail me or whatever. I’m used to it.”

False felt her heart break at Gem’s words. It was an unofficial rule among the hermits to not ask about anyones past, but she was tempted to find Gem’s old server and fight everyone who had ever made her feel this way. Carefully and slowly she moved forward and wrapped Gem in a hug.

“No one here is going to make fun of you for stimming Gem, I promise you. We’re all accepting here, none of the Hermits would even think about it.”

Gem just nodded, sniffling quietly. They stayed like that for a few moments more before False broke away, hands still on Gem’s arms reassuringly.

“Now, I think Doc and Ren have set up the first stim toy shop of the season, do you want to go now or later?”

Gem wiped at her eyes and nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

“Can we go now?”

False felt a smile come on her face at being a “we” again, taking it as a sign Gem would hopefully be more open about her problems in the future.

“Of course.”

~

Me: yeah I’m going to do a short fic!

The “short” fic: This giant monstrosity

So yeah I did not mean for it to get this long sorry XD

Hope you enjoy!

-🦊

Ooooh!! It’s good!!!

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Grief Always Lifts (Volturi x Reader)

You didn't expect to be sent away from the Cullen's. You were quickly chastised, never to look at it as being sent away, rather putting you in the care of someone else for your benefit. Losing a parent was never easy and it didn't need to be said that you were struggling. You went on day by day, the simple mundane things reminding you of your father and in turn, your loss. Carlisle and Esme thought it best you had a break from America. Somewhere new to really work through your emotions. The last place you thought they'd send you is to the Volturi. 

Sure, Italy was nothing like you were used to but the coven they said would care for you isn't entirely the caring type. You weren't even sure as to what made them agree to having you in their care but you had no doubt Aro probably latched onto the possibility of rekindling his friendship with Carlisle. Regardless, you agreed. A symptom of your grief that they had noticed. You weren't entirely present, agreeing to be convenient and not having a particular want for anything. Carlisle and Esme insisted that if you weren't comfortable, you didn't have to go but you left reassuring them you'd be fine. 

Marcus recognised the look in your eyes, beyond the exhaustion and blank stare your emotions were loud and clear to him. You felt so much pain that with some irony, you looked to be dead. As though the loss had killed you. However such a statement couldn't be further from the truth. You were very much alive, nearly drowning in whatever was going on in your mind. 

The three leaders welcomed you and made sure you knew the higher ranking guards names. Anyone you came across was introduced. Many matching your own blank expression take away the exhaustion that hung over you like a blanket since a few days after your fathers funeral. 

Demetri and Felix were the ones who took you to your room. You took in the room before turning to the two guards. "Thank you for all of your help." Your voice was as monotone as the minute you had arrived. Although your facial expressions were at bare minimum. You didn't blink very much and it gave off the illusion that your face was trying and very much failing to emote and keep up with your words. Demetri nodded once and the two took their leave, letting you settle in. 

"They look like they haven't slept in days." Felix said quietly. "Apparently they have been sleeping, that's just how they are currently." Demetri responded. Felix looked perplexed. "They were sent to us for a reason Felix. The Cullen's wouldn't have asked us if they weren't desperate." Demetri said. "Sure, it's just odd to see them so lifeless." Felix replied. Demetri nodded. "Seeing them like this in comparison to how we last saw them is very strange. Even the twins seemed to be caught off guard." 

"Is the room to your liking?" You looked over your shoulder to see Caius approaching you. "It's great." You responded. "Thank you so much, I don't think I've ever stayed somewhere to extravagant before." Caius cracked a smile. "We have expensive tastes here. I imagine that isn't the only thing you have noticed though." "You're right. The decor isn't exactly modern yet you still have the random TV, electricity and such. I think what I'm trying to say is that it's a perfect combination of old decor and convenient modern day technology." Caius hummed. "That is good. I can't say many of us use most of the modern equipment, although it has its uses every now and then. Such as warm water for you." It was your turn to crack a smile. It was nice they remembered the little details. "I've never had a room with a balcony. Not had one with such an amazing view either." You could see out to the ocean beyond the cliffs, the sun setting creating a cool breeze. "Yes, it is very beautiful. My wife adores the view. She doesn't see the buildings as much from the tower but she sees the sun rise and set. That's enough for her, she says." Caius said looking in the direction of the setting sun. You noticed Caius was never this talkative with anyone, never mind a human. It had gone from polite pleasantries to a conversation and you weren't sure what to make of it. "We must ask something of you, (Y/N). A few things actually." "Okay...I mean, it makes sense since you're letting me stay here." "We only ask that you do not leave your room when we are feeding. A guard will tell you when we are going to feed and when you can leave. At most you'd be in for an hour. We must also ask for your phone. You are more than free to make calls using the phone at reception but due to all of the things mobile phones can do, we must insist." You nodded. "Sure, that's reasonable." You dug into your pocket for your phone before handing it over. "Oh wait, can I turn it off first?" Caius looked down at the device in his hand. "I believe that would be best because I don't know what I'm looking at with these things." You cracked a smile, holding down the power button. "There." "Thank you." Caius nodded. 

They noticed that you slept, a lot. Sure they were told between 8-12 hours is enough but they let you sleep a little longer in case of jet lag or time differences. That was until it became apparent that these were no longer an issue. It couldn't have been healthy.  It was no surprise to anyone when Demetri and the twins opened your door to find you asleep. They already knew that of course, as did the rest of the castle. You were tucked into the covers, your face buried into your pillow, only the top of your back being visible to them. It would have been amusing or even adorable at the time, if it wasn't very concerning. 

Demetri crouched at your bedside. "(Y/N), it's time to wake up." Demetri said softly. You shifted before shaking your head. "Come on, darling. You'll sleep the day away." "Let me." Was the quiet grumble you responded with. This was confirmation that you weren't in high spirits today. Demetri rubbed at your arm that was under the covers. "We can't let you do that, darling. We'll be more than satisfied if you get out of bed and get changed. It'll make a lot of difference." "No, it won't." There was a whimper in your voice that time. Your grip on the covers tightening, your knuckles going white. "It doesn't bring him back. It doesn't make the day any easier because he's gone." Demetri moved closer. "I dreamt about him." You said, a sob breaking through. Demetri rubbed your back as you sobbed. Anyone with a sliver of empathy would have found it difficult to watch. Demetri had no doubt that he seemed like a villain to you right now. Asking almost the impossible but it was better for you. Not to mention, the leaders had already decided that this couldn't continue. "I know you're suffering right now sweetheart." Demetri rubbed back again soothingly. Demetri looked to the twins, nodding to them. A silent message to relay what had happened here to the leaders, to confirm the distress they could likely hear. "One step at a time. This is all you have to do today. In fact," Demetri paused, looking around the room. "why not get changed into those softer clothes you have. The ones you say are more comfier like your night clothes. Can you do that?"  It took a lot of coaxing but you caved, doing exactly that. 

A couple of more days passed and you seemed to just cry your way through them. Aro was the first to approach the matter. "I know that this all feels like an ending but you may find that-" Your gaze shot up to Aro's like a deer in headlights, feeling tears build up once more. "Aro, I don't think I'm ready to hear this right now." You managed out in a whisper. The only way the words would leave your mouth. "I thought I'd have my sister with me forever." Aro told you with a sad smile. "We were many years apart but she was my sister. We may not have grown up together but we were going to make up for that...with forever. One day that changed. I lost her. I won't lie to you, I will always remember that pain, and I'll still feel it every now and then but with time, it isn't so raw. It doesn't consume you as it does when it's fresh." You dropped your gaze from his once more, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "This feels like a pain that will never go away." "It lifts every day, my love." Aro responded. "Loss creates wounds and sometimes they scar but that's alright." Aro nodded.  

A tear ran down your cheek as you bit back a sob. Aro's words were actually comforting. It validated your feelings, telling you that you could feel that way whilst not undermining or dismissing it as something to be ignored as it would go away. Furthermore, it was a meeting point to help you understand that the pain you felt wasn't going to drown you, no matter how deep the pain went. It would get easier and you wouldn't forget. 

A day passed and it was possibly the most draining day you had yet. You felt tears constantly. Sometimes they fell yet it was for no reason, they'd leave as quickly as they arrived without explanation. Therefore you couldn't give any explanation to the Volturi. You were somewhat reluctant to see Marcus when he asked for you but you also knew you weren't in any position to refuse. 

You found the door was open as you entered. The room only illuminated by the fire to the right of the room and surrounded by two couches that looked old and exceptionally expensive- a dark brown wooden frame with padding covered with a rich red fabric. You quietly sighed to yourself the moment your eyes landed on Marcus. His back was turned to you, a very old, large book holding his attention. Or so you thought. "I know your pain, child." He said as you moved towards the fireplace, your arms crossed over chest. "I'm sorry for your loss." You grumbled.  Marcus turned to look at you before moving towards you. He gestured for you to sit in the seat behind you. As you did, he sat down opposite you. "I'm more concerned about yours." He responded. "We find ways to cope with loss. You have lost your way whilst trying to find yours." "I'm fine if that's what you're asking." You said. "I'm not asking. I know how you are feeling, (Y/N). I know not what you are thinking." Marcus replied. "You could always ask Aro. He's seen inside my head-." "Aro's sight is nothing to me in this case." Marcus interrupted. "It's meaningless. Hearing it from you gives it meaning." "You want me to talk about it." You said flatly. Marcus said nothing but looked at you expectantly which had confirmed your suspicions. You looked away, contemplating if you should. You came to the conclusion that it wouldn't hurt. "I can't really figure out where I've to go from here, in life. I've never had to live without him." You answered.  "You go on, little one. There is no direction. No one is pointed in the correct direction. At the end of the day, you go there yourself. With everyday, you go on and that's exactly what you're supposed to do." He responded. "When someone puts their all into you, their love, their effort, their time, they grow a bond to you that can never be broken, not really. It's always there. So when someone loves you so much...it's never goodbye." Marcus continued. "The truth is...losing someone is never easy. It changes you and it changes your life but it's never more important to remember that life goes on and people will miss you when you're no longer around. I know you well enough to know you'd want your loved ones to carry on. That's what is being asked of you now."  Hearing Marcus' perspective was actually important to you in hindsight, seeing as he endured such a painful loss that still haunted him to this day. It meant he understood the feeling of something missing in your life. He knew that better than anyone. Although much like Aro's advice it was difficult to put into practice. 

Four days passed and you were fed up of the grief and the constant tears for the tiniest thing. When Caius wanted to see you, you couldn't help but think that he was going to lecture you. Tell you to get over yourself like you had told yourself time and time again. So when you met him on the balcony, you asked. "I suppose you're going to tell me to toughen up right?" You asked Caius. Caius turned his head to look at you, instead of the ocean view. "Is that what you need to hear?" Slowly you shook your head. "So what would be the point?" He asked and you shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just thinking about everything he wanted from me. If my time with him was enough." Caius hummed. "A parents wish is to never outlive their children. They raise you wanting you to be better than they could ever be and live your life as much as you can. Even more so, enjoy it. Be safe and happy, free of doubt." Caius continued. "He got so many years of your life and I bet if you asked him...he wouldn't give up even a moment of the time he had with you. I'd say your father did a wonderful job raising you." "Was it enough though? Was it enough to make him proud and continue believing in me?" Caius cracked a small smile. "I think your father couldn't be more proud of you every day he walked this earth and if there is life beyond the living, he's just as proud." "How do you know? That I made him proud?" You asked after a moment of silence. "Simply because I am proud of you and not only are you not my child...but I am also very difficult to please." Caius responded with ease. You had to swallow hard against the lump in your throat. "Everyone in this castle, every vampire no matter the rank has outlived their parents. Although you may be surprised to know that many among us, had their own children that they have since outlived. All of different ages, from the old to the young. Every single one would tell you the pain of outliving their children was much worse." Caius assured you. Your eyes narrowed. "is that supposed to make me feel bad for my feelings?" You wouldn't have expected any less of him. Caius hummed in amusement. "Not at all, it's something to consider that your father wouldn't have had it any other way." Caius responded. 

You weren't sure when things had changed but the grief wasn't so heavy on you. So much so, you got out of bed at a decent time, got changed and came down for breakfast.  Felix checked in on you as soon as it was evident you were awake but left you to get ready for the day in peace. After breakfast you found both Felix and Demetri in one of the living rooms watching TV. 

You had gotten closer to the two over time. Demetri went out if his way to make sure you were looked after and Felix tried to be something of a friend or even a distraction as he tried to include you in almost everything. 

"Well look who's here!" He grinned. "Come and pick us a movie. You've got good taste as we've learned." Felix patted the empty seat next to him. "No, I need to sit on that side of you- that's my good side." You said. "If I need to have your magnified gaze on me it should at least be on my good side." Felix paused, a small smile growing on his face. You couldn't help but giggle at his expression. "I'm sorry? You're good side? What does that mean?" He said through chuckles. "Is this a human thing I don't know about? You have sides to you now?" "No!" You started but began giggling hysterically. "Listen, I need to know how many sides you have. Is this like personalities? Which side came down to breakfast this morning?" Felix continued and you laughed even more. "Or is it an angel and devil kind of thing? Did you leave your bad side upstairs, sitting in the sink? Which is another conversation all together by the way." "No!" You laughed. Felix turned to Demetri. "I was sent to check on them Demetri, do you know where I found them? Sitting in the sink! When did humans ever do that!?" "It was to get closer to the mirror!" You cried out in your defence. "To check on your good side by any chance?" Felix responded. You had doubled over so much in laughter and uncontrollable coughing Felix looked at you quizzically. "Breathe, (Y/N), it's kind of popular amongst your kind!" Felix's statement didn't help you. Instead you laughed more, curling up into a ball where you stood. "What are you doing now!?" Felix said in mock exasperation, beginning to chuckle himself. "I have to or I'm going to pee myself!" You managed out and Felix suddenly roared in laughter. "Friend, Demetri, listen, Carlisle needs to order a new human. This one is broken." Felix laughed hysterically as Demetri smirked with a playful eye roll. You wiped at tears that had built up in your eyes. "Ah, see, now that you've stopped yourself from relieving yourself on our floor, it's coming out your eyes instead. Humans are great!" "Felix, that is not how that works." Demetri said, his eyes wide as you continued to laugh. "Yes I kn- you ruined my joke! Of course I know that!" Felix face palmed.

Felix stood up, pulling you to a stand and bringing you to sit with him, his arm over your shoulder. "There, there, deep breaths. I've got you kid." Before you could blink he was on the other side of you. "Soothe both sides of you." A other giggle escaped you as he grinned. Demetri looked at you both with a smile. This was much more like the human they were accustomed to. 

The day before you left, you visited Caius at his office, wanting to thank him for everything he had done for you. You were beyond aware he didn't have to say anything to console you. Yet he went above and beyond. "Come in." You heard his stern voice behind the door. "Hi, do you have a moment? I can come back later if it's more fitting?" You asked, looking at him as he moved a few sheets of paper to the side of his desk. "Not at all, you chose a very good moment. What is it?" Caius stood up, moving away from his desk and approached you, closing the door behind you. "Hm?" Caius promoted, slightly softer in tone than he had before. "I wanted to thank you, for taking me in and being there for me when I needed it most. I didn't have the expectation but you went above and beyond more than I could have ever asked of you. I'm grateful." You said. "Well, you certainly needed it. That I can tell you. It's a joy to see you've been more like yourself lately." Caius responded. You felt yourself gradually grow a little more emotional by the second. In some strange way, you were going to miss him and others of the Volturi. Despite being rather rough around the edges. "I don't know if anyone has ever told you this." You began. You feared his reaction but couldn't keep the thought to yourself. "You'd have been a really great father." You said swallowing against the lump in your throat. Caius looked slightly taken aback. His expression changed to something you couldn't quite describe. Awe wasn't the correct word but looked to be the closest thing. His eyes softening as though you had melted his heart with those words alone. He said nothing, unable to believe what he had heard. You immediately closed the gap, hugging him tightly. Caius inhaled sharply, uncertain what to do as you hugged his waist and your head against his chest. You couldn't see it but felt as Caius relaxed, a small smile growing upon his face. You felt a hand cradle the back of your head softly as his other arm wrapped around you. He bent ever so slightly, his head resting on top of yours. "You take care of yourself. Understand? I expect to hear of your transformation soon." He said quietly. When you broke away, he wasn't so emotional. Instead he gave you his signature smile. "I promise." You responded as he led you towards the door. 

Marcus was the next you visited, around two hours later. Softly, you had knocked on his door to his own study and received a soft "Enter." in response. "Hi." You began meekly. "Do you have a second?" You asked as Marcus was putting a book back on book shelf. One of many that covered the whole wall with cabinets at the bottom. "I do." He nodded, turning towards you. "I...Oh hell, this gets harder to do each time." You said, eyes wide. Marcus tilted his head. "Take a breath. I won't bite." Marcus offered you a comforting smile. You smiled at the irony. "I wanted to thank you. You took me in and helped me through probably the most difficult thing I've ever endured in my life. You didn't have to and you did anyway. I wanted to say thank you. I appreciate it more than I could put it into words." Marcus smiled slightly. "Then allow me to thank you, dear (Y/N)." You raised an eyebrow, confusion crossing your features. "It's not often we have such young hearts here, all of ours have faded. You may have shown us that humans can be such wonderful things. Some of us might argue you to be the most wonderful of all. So thank you for blessing us with your presence, little one." You felt tears build again, rendered speechless. Marcus smiled, if anyone understood. It was him. "Your father would be so proud of you and every moment you've spent with us has been nothing short of a gift to us. Never forget that." You nodded. "I'll never forget what you've done for me. I can't express how thankful I am to you and the Volturi. I don't think I could have gotten through this without you." "Ah, ah, remember my dear. You were always going to come through. You've always had that strength in you. That was never strength that we could give. You've had it from the very beginning. It just takes some time." Marcus softly took hold of your arms. "I know it's going to make longer than our time together to properly heal from this. Although I'm more than confident that you will be just fine." As tears threatened to fall, you smiled at him. "I really don't get how you don't have children." You said and Marcus chuckled. "It wasn't supposed to be." "They'd be so lucky!" You responded as the two of you moved towards the door. Marcus chuckled. "If I ever had a child, I'd hope they'd turn out like you." 

When you finally got a hold of Aro, it was in the throne room with Marcus and Caius. You bit your lip. "There's so much I want to say..." You said to him. "...but every time I go to talk I nearly cry." You admitted, the lump returning in your throat. Aro chuckled slightly. "Allow me then, my dear. You've shed enough tears." Aro stood up, descending the stairs with his hand extended towards you. You held out your hand and he took his, cradling it close to his chest. A warm, genuine smile grew on Aro's face. "We have such high hopes for you, young (Y/N)." He said softly. "Your time with us has been wonderful. You are a beautiful soul, my dear. The pleasure was ours, truly. You have no need to thank us." Aro finished. "I trust you will join our kind soon enough. Until then, be safe and send my regards to my dear friend Carlisle." You nodded and Aro nodded behind you. There stood Felix and Demetri who escorted you to the entrance. 

The twins stood in waiting, dismissing the receptionist as you approached. "Is that everything?" Demetri asked, nodding to the bags beside the desk. You nodded. "Yeah." You looked at the four of them, silence overtaking the room. "I wanted to thank you guys too. I know it's not easy to be around a human like you have since I've been here. Especially an emotional wreck of a human." You noticed Alec's slight smirk at this. "Oh come here!" Felix finally said loudly, hugging you tightly. "I'm going to miss having a human around here." He grumbled. "...the receptionist?" You reminded him. "It's not the same! I actually like you!" You smiled into his broad shoulder. "I'll miss you, Felix." You said. "Don't! I'll find a way to keep you!" Felix grinned, squeezing slightly. "They'll never know. I'll find a way!" You giggled as the two of you broke the hug. 

You stepped away, your attention moving to Demetri. "Of course I have to thank you!" You smiled, hugging him before he could respond. He smiled down at you, patting you on the back lightly. "Be safe." He said to you quietly. Finally you looked to the twins. "I know you two don't do the hugging and I've put you two through enough." Neither responded but Alec's gaze wasn't so harsh. It was an improvement as neither of them were glaring at you. "Thank you for putting up with me. I know it must have been annoying for you to have me around- being a human and all that." You smiled slightly at them. The twins were silent but you caught Alec sending you a smile. Whilst they didn't say anything to you, Alec's smile told you a lot. They didn't completely hate you. You weren't as bad as they had thought. Although they weren't quite willing to let their guard down around you. "You two take care." You nodded to them with a smile before turning away. "I believe the car is outside waiting for you." Demetri said with a small brief smile.

[oftenderweapons]

I don't know if you are still accepting prompts, but can we get a yoongi x kitten jealous drabble??? love your work!

This was difficult for 2 reasons.

1. Yoongi is the least jealous of the guys imo.

2. Kitten would never make him jealous.

I think they're the less drama-prone couple of the crew. However I found a loophole for you, my lovely reader. Enjoy 💜

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 1.4k

Genre: Angst, Fluff, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Trigger warnings: alcohol consumption, Kitten gets drunk, Kitten's ex FWB, mentions of wlw, angsty discussion on bi/pansexuality (nothing LGBTQ+phobic, you're safe here). Yoongi is very insecure, tired and vulnerable. Mentions of strap-on/pegging.

THIRST NIGHTS ARE OPEN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who's that?” Yoongi asked, leaning over your phone as you both sat on the sofa.

“It's a friend from uni, Amber. She's just back from Canada.” You leaned towards the coffee table, lowering the volume of the TV. You already knew neither of you would watch it, just use it as background noise while you cuddled before falling asleep in the rainy Sunday afternoon.

“You never mentioned friends from uni.” Yoongi laid back while you slowly crawled behind him, putting down your phone, ready to focus on the only important task in the world — spooning him. Your hand crawled to his chest, humming in appreciation at the way his pectorals were bulking up. You loved knowing that your personal grumpy cat was taking care of himself.

“She wasn't exactly a friend friend.” You kissed his nape and waited for him to catch your drift.

“Just a colleague? One of those random people who live in the same room as you a couple hours a day for some years?”

You tutted. “More like 'we've seen each other naked and it was fun time for a bunch of months' kinda friends.”

Yoongi nodded. “Friend with benefits?”

You chuckled. “Yeah that.” Yoongi waited. He could feel you weren't done talking. “She asked me out for drinks tomorrow night.”

At that, Yoongi turned around. “Did you agree to go?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, she was abroad for years, maybe she's just trying to find her old friends, build connections. Maybe she feels lonely now here in the city.”

He knew you were being logic, and assuming that woman wanted something else was actually mean, but still a part of him felt uncomfortable. “I understand. Isn't that like seeing an ex though? Maybe she wants to pick up from where you left it?” He burrowed into your chest.

“We were never a thing. Just had some fun, no strings attached.” You held him closer. “I love you. And I want you. I chose you—”

“What if she's easier, better than—”

You interrupted him mid-sentence, not letting his self-destructive thoughts take control of him. “I chose you. Only you. Don't doubt it, ever.”

Yoongi nodded obediently, cuddling up to get ready for a nap. And while you did fall asleep, he couldn't, too anxious, continuously revived by your phone screen lighting up..

He noticed you had five texts from the girl. He put down the phone and breathed you in. He had you.

Did he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi stayed on the sofa, alarmed when midnight became one a.m. and then two a.m. and then...

He heard you come through the door at half past, stumbling a little. You dropped your bag. And then you dropped your ass on the bench by the door, struggling to take off your boots. “Kitten,” he called, worried. He reached you in a minute, his blanket on his shoulders. He felt on edge, a bit raw.

“Yoongi?”

He had never heard your voice like that. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

You nodded and he immediately turned around, ready to head to the kitchen. You grabbed his hand on instinct. “Please.”

“I'll grab you some water—”

“You were right. I'm so fucking sorry.” You leaned your head to his stomach. “I should have listened to you.”

He patted your head. He waited.

You looked heartbroken when you looked up at him. He was devastated by it. Did you...? “She kissed me. I'm so fucking sorry, Yoongi, you were right. I should have stayed at home. Please, forgive me.”

Yoongi sat beside you on the bench, exhaling slowly and loudly.

“It meant nothing. I didn't want it,” you explained, gasping, rushing your words out, desperate.

He cupped the side of your head pulling you to his shoulder and kissing your temple. “It's okay.” It wasn't. He wanted to kiss you and reassure you and watch you come undone for him, remind him you were his.

“You know I love you.” You were crying. Yoongi hated it. “Please.”

“Did you get this drunk with her?” he asked, taking off your shoes for you, helping you up and catching you in his arms.

“I was tipsy. I drank after she left.” You nuzzled into his neck.

“Did you do this to her too? Cuddling into her? Holding her like you hold me?” He needed to ask the question, no matter how much it hurt.

“Maybe back then, but not tonight. I want to hold you now. Only you. I want to kiss you. I want to be yours.” Being honest hurt, but you did it anyway. Keeping the kiss a secret didn't even cross your mind for half a millisecond: you needed to tell him and clear up this huge misunderstanding and make yourbond stronger and—

“Did you learn to use a strap with her?” His question was rough. He had to wait for you for two hours to find out he had so many doubts.

You frowned. “I never did that for anyone. I tried with you. Because I love you. Because I want to give you everything you need.”

He hummed, pondering your reply. He moved on. It was just something petty he had come up with when bitter with worry and disappointment. “Do you need to throw up?” Yoongi rubbed your back.

You waited. Nodded. Once in the bathroom you asked him to let you handle that alone. He refused.

You hated him seeing you in such miserable, hideous state, but he wouldn't take his eyes off you. He held your hair back as you got rid of the alcohol, soothing you with a hand along your spine.

Once you were done, teeth brushed, he realised he had one final answer he needed to understand whether he could sleep in the same bed as you. “Do you still... Do you...—”

“No, I don't like her, Yoongi. I love you. Only you. I'm yours.”

He let you finish. Though it was good reassurance, that was not the answer he needed. “I mean, do you regret getting together with me? Do you—” You were already shaking your head.

“Do you regret not having sex with other people? More specifically, women?” he finally asked.

“No. I don't regret falling for you. Loving you and only you. Sleeping with you every night. I have never been happier, Yoongi. You make me so happy. And I don't regret being monogamous and loyal to you.” You looked him right in the eye. “Being bisexual or queer or whatever has nothing to do with loyalty. Having sex with you doesn't mean I miss having sex with women any more than I miss having sex with other men. By the way, I don't miss any of that. I want you and no one else, man, woman, non-binary. I choose you.”

Yoongi relaxed. Somehow he understood, even thought to him felt different: you would wear a strap and he could have something close to sex with a man, but that wouldn't work the other way around. He stopped. Did he miss sleeping with a man? No.

He realised his insecurities had undermined his reasoning. When you wore a strap, the point wasn't you having male genitalia, but you being you. Calm, reassuring, sensual, soothing you. Cruel, cunning, sadistic, ruthless you.

It was you, his beloved, his everything, his lover.

“I'm sorry. I've been overthinking,” he confessed. “You're right.”

You breathed out in relief. “It's okay.” You stretched your arms out, holding him. “I'm sorry I made you worry and overthink.” You comforted him as much as you could. “I love you, baby. You're smart and kind and giving and peaceful and perfect. You're the best person I could ever dream of.”

He sniffled a little and nodded, holding you just as tight as you held him. “Are you sure you still love me?” he said, voice trembling.

You smiled and whispered “yes”, over and over again, your forehead touching his.

He pressed his lips to yours. They didn't belong to that hopeless woman. They were his. You had made them his. “I still love you too. A lot,” he whispered. “I love you. That kiss means nothing to you. It means nothing to me either.” He pressed his mouth to your jawline. “I'm still yours,” he whispered.

“Remind me.”

At that he smiled, his expression mirroring yours.

What happened after that was sacred and shall remain unspoken.

[sorcererrezan]

unconvinced

congratulations on outdoing yourself yet AGAIN with chapter 7 @ataleofcrowns 💛 you are truly on another level queen 😌✨

prompt: “Then tell me, how can I convince you?” (list here) pairing: X/crown rating: spicy T 😏 word count: 1,929 summary: ‘It would be so easy to make him kneel for you, the way he clearly wants to—’ 

Crown Navid shows Xelef that two can play his game.

—

Liar. 

It’s what the earth spirits had said, but now, ensconced in his palace, where he has invited in those who are merely curious about him at best and possibly strategizing his murder at worst, Navid hears it in his own voice.

The control he has maintained since Ishrah and Siham opened his doors this morning squeezes around his chest. It pinches and he can feel his heart bursting out of the gaps of its hold, turning into spikes.

Navid’s eyes thin into slits of piercing gold. His tone, now devoid of its casual charm, is flat. Unamused. “I’m not convinced.”

Xelef, just as persistent, gauges him. Navid can pinpoint the exact moment the sellsword decides on his next tactic, green eyes shifting hues like a turning emerald.

“Then tell me, how can I convince you?” 

Just as much as Xelef is surely leaning on his sensory abilities, Navid’s awareness of the situation rises. Above his disrespected aggravation and Xelef’s agile contortions he can see the conflict between his own present and Xelef’s past. In the back of his mind he notes a sense of affronted duplicity—isn’t this the same man that warned him against self-destructive paralysis, the one that saw through his worries leading up to today and offered reassuring distraction?

Why can’t Xelef use that insight to understand the position he’s put a newly coronated Crown in, instead of to devise an escape from the consequences of his impulses?

Xelef steps close, as skilled at wielding a weapon as he is his own body. Navid’s thick brows furrow at himself, at the way his reaction betrays him, heart rabbiting in response to the enticingly deep fragrance clouding the mercenary, the ridges and valleys of his form set in such a tantalizing display. Navid can feel the heat from Xelef’s bare chest even through the rich fabric of his ceremonial robes and the magic imbued in them. Xelef’s hand on his shoulder is a reminder of his size and strength, of his willful potential to overpower.  

“Shall I beg you again, on my knees this time?” 

Every single thing about him is a distraction.

If Xelef wanted to keep up their easy flirtation from this morning, he shouldn’t have soured it by testing the limits of Navid’s control. But now that he has…

An open palm finds the heated skin of Xelef’s abdomen, gliding across hard muscles; callouses catching on the random, puckered skin of his scars. Navid can hear Xelef’s rushed inhale before it turns into a low chuckle. He lets his lips brush against the goosebumps on Xelef’s neck before he murmurs, breath hot on his ear, “Kneel, mercenary.”

The last word is a sharp hiss, accompanied by the bite of his blunt nails on Xelef’s bare skin. The muscles underneath his touch jump as Navid pulls him down, fingertips gliding up his torso along the way. Xelef would look almost reverent, on his knees before him like this, if it weren’t for the devious gleam of getting what he wanted in his eyes.

Navid’s lips twist into something wicked.

“Beg for my forgiveness,” he repeats, voice husky, one hand cradling Xelef’s jaw in a commanding grip. Navid feels powerful. Different from the ways before when he has bent Xelef to his will because this time, there’s no perceptive audience. 

Distraction or not, this is all for him.

Xelef bites his bottom lip and Navid eyes the plumpness of it, gaze sharpening in vindication as the man in front of him lets out a shaky, almost whining, exhale. 

“Please forgive me, Navid,” dark eyelashes flutter in a practiced way that Navid is nonetheless susceptible to. The use of his given name throws him off guard, widening his stare. Another distraction, or an attempt at sincerity? Only the Void knows for sure.

Navid nods, letting some of his cool charm return in an inviting smile. The hand on Xelef’s jaw slides to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through the smooth locks of his hair. “You look good like this, Xelef.”

“So do you,” he eyes Navid hungrily, not even hiding the lascivious way his stare roves from right below his waistline, up the slim taper of his waist, the flare of his shoulders, then lingers on his lips before making eye contact and meeting fire with fire. 

Navid’s smile shifts into a smirk and he tightens his hand into a domineering fist, pulling Xelef’s hair, holding him in precarious place as he leans over him. He makes a show of sliding his eyes from Xelef’s to his mouth as he bends closer then closer still, until the mercenary’s long lashes flutter closed in anticipation.

Their lips are separated only by their breath when Navid tugs—not gently—and Xelef lets out a choked half of a groan.

“Don’t ever deign to undermine me like that again. Especially not amongst these vultures,” Navid spits the last word out, voice testy and dangerous in a way Xelef has never heard before. He conceals his unspoken ‘I need you on my side.’ in another jarring pull of his hair, forcing Xelef to bare his throat to him. “Do you understand, Pale Sword?”

From his vantage point he can see Xelef’s desperate swallow, can hear the submission in his shaky exhale of a response. “Yes… my Crown.”

“Good.”

Navid breaks away like a glacier’s cliff dropping into the sea. For half a second Xelef crumples, not expecting the loss of support so immediately, before his muscles clench and he regains his balance. Spirits help him, but he is not immune to the way Xelef’s abdominals, framed by the rich textures of his formalwear, dance under his tanned, hairy skin.

Navid keeps a calculated, cunning look on his face as Xelef rises on his own, eyeing him in equal parts defeated respect and surprised annoyance. 

“I suppose I deserved that,” comes the begrudging admission. Finally, Xelef’s sincerity outweighs Navid’s doubts.

“Don’t mistake my reciprocation of your attention for naïveté,” Navid pins him with a knowing stare, a reminder that as much as Xelef can see through him, he can see the same. And to let him know that, even still, he wants to continue cultivating this “whatever you want it to be” that’s growing between them. Navid doesn’t know what Xelef’s romantic past looks like—and doesn’t much care—but if Xelef wants to keep courting his favor, he needs to know that there are harsh lines that Navid will not allow him to cross. 

“I’m sick of people hiding things I should know from me.”

The last part comes out more resentful than Navid intends, tinged with his turbulent reflections about his parents’ debilitating omissions and how exhausting it is to think of learning to divine the nobility’s nebulous motives and intentions.  

“You’ve known me for mere days, and you expect me to bare all my secrets to you because I helped you once?” Xelef snaps back, patience run ragged after Navid turned the tables on him. It stings. The fatigue of the day’s emotions slams into Navid all at once, his hurt the delayed catalyst. 

He takes a deep breath, recentering himself. Is his pride worth it? They’ve both made their point. And he doesn’t quite yet know where the line for Xelef is, when taking advantage of their attraction to each other morphs into something destructive. 

He sighs. So many calculations today, mind overstuffed by the endless observations he’s made to try to perceive everyone around him. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Navid shrugs, closing himself off from the weight of it all. He never asked for any of this responsibility, still doesn’t understand why the spirits chose him. Did they do it with the person he could’ve been before he spent a decade on the run in mind? Or with the decorated shell of a man he is now, desperately trying to fill his insides after those he trusted to protect and guide him failed? Maybe he really is naive, for dreaming that his problems could be solved simply by finding his sorcerer and finally becoming the Crown.

“You’re right, after all. We’ve only known each other a short time, and we’re not friends. I’m only your employer, right?” If Xelef wants to shield himself with that context, so be it. Navid is just as good at hiding.

“Navid…” Regret paints Xelef’s face an unfamiliar expression. 

“It is what it is. You have your secrets. I have mine.” 

“I didn’t mean—”

“Xelef,” he interrupts tiredly with an open palm. “It’s alright. I understand. Just don’t get me killed.”

Navid forces a smile to soften the jibe, retreating back into performance. Xelef opens his mouth as if to say something, brow bunched as he seems to sway between decisions.

“I’ll just see you—”

“The Mîrs of Rojan and I have a long, bloody history together. I don’t want to speak of Behram, but…” 

Xelef holds Navid’s gaze, still wavering for a beat before choosing his path. Something parts behind his eyes, something that allows both of them to see. How alike they are. How tired. How terrified and cautiously hopeful.

Xelef tells his story about Behram’s predecessor. Navid listens raptly, fully aware that this vulnerability could be fleeting, and hangs onto it. The part of him that doesn’t ache for Xelef as he unravels the tragedy of his childhood is grateful for the distraction from his own maelstrom of trauma and emotions.

“Then why did you help me?” Navid asks, feeling the gulf of his status between him and Xelef more distinctly than ever.

“I… had my own reasons,” he doesn’t meet Navid’s eyes when he answers. Though it’s not the reassurance that he wanted to hear—that he did it for more than just the potential of gold or vengeance—at least it’s the truth.

“In any case, does this sate your curiosity a little bit?” 

Navid recognizes the attempt at lightheartedness as a tool, though just like with his own attempt earlier, it’s outweighed by the ghosts that linger around them both. 

“Is this usually how you leave people sated after kneeling for them?” It’s not quite the same playfulness that’s usually between the two of them, not after what they’ve found out about each other today, but it proves that they can bounce back. Move forward, together.

“No, but today was a special occasion,” Xelef smiles, though it looks dim on his face. It flickers away, making room for the solemnity in his voice. “You should know—I told you that because I wanted to.”

“I do know.”

Navid reaches for Xelef, this time with no ulterior motive, but someone clears their throat before they touch. 

“Yes?” Navid tries not to let exasperation color his tone—the guards don’t deserve his ire. Still, he can’t help but be disappointed at the interruption, especially since this feels like some sort of breakthrough between him and Xelef.

“Forgive the intrusion, Your Imperial Majesty.”

Ah, right. The banquet and its accompanying expectations. Navid sighs, imagining the steam rising from the bath he plans on sinking into after all this. Alone.

“You go on ahead,” Xelef concedes. “I think I need some time to myself.”

“Will I see you later?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” relief flushes out Navid’s discordant emotions, and he holds on to the smile that Xelef sends his way to bolster him for the rest of the night. “You haven’t paid me yet, after all.”

“I’m good for it,” Navid hopes his returning smile, laden with the complications of things said and unsaid but sanguine nonetheless, does the same for Xelef. 

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. two.

one < current > three

Jan. 2017

Two months have passed since Yuta’s first day. You were able to convince Satoru that, because he shared the similar disadvantage of not having an inherent technique, you should control his training. Maki was still his primary partner when it came to afternoon sparring. But he was your partner in the mornings.

Every morning, the two of you would focus on a different part of the body or a different form of exercise. You spotted him in the weight room, you logged his mile times, and, most importantly, you became his friend. Over before-dawn laps and cool-down stretches, you got to know Yuta and Rika.

For the first month, Rika stayed as an intangible ball of energy hovering around Yuta. Then, slowly, she began to manifest a form. Only for a minute at a time initially, but with time, she would appear for the entire session. Rika would hover a few feet above the weight bench or make flower crowns from the wildflowers that grew around your preferred trail. Yuta seemed just as surprised as you when she placed one on your head after a week of her practicing making them. She explained how she wanted to make something just as pretty as you, with all the innocence of a child. You had thanked her with watery eyes.

But with all the peace that came after settling into a new routine with Yuta joining your class, something was bound to ruin it. This time it was a required meeting between the big three clans. The invitation that arrived specifically asked for both you and your brother’s presence. Satoru tried to squirm out of it saying, “They didn’t say which brother had to attend,” but Megumi's unimpressed look and point at the name Gojo sprawled across the top ended that excuse.

Which lead to where you are now, dragging your human classmates through the Ginza streets to collect a custom gown. Maki grumbled all morning, but you were finally able to shut her up with a promise of buying everyone coffee, lunch and take-out dinner. Inumaki was content with any excuse to go into the city (even if it meant he had to carry your bags) and Yuta didn’t have the nerve to reject your offer when you smiled so hopefully. Though, he was curious after the employee of the shop greeted you like an old friend. “Why do you need such a fancy dress?”

“I don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “I have, or had, several custom ones already. I donate almost all my clothes after wearing them to these events. These meetings, when me and Nii-chan are both requested, are used as an excuse to find ways to undermine the political status of Gojo’s. Nii-chan did not force me into years of tutoring on sorcerer history and politics for me to get clowned about wearing the same outfit as last time.”

Maki adds, “The Zen’ins and Kamos are the standard for sleazy shamans. Not every sorcerer is as nice as us.” Yuta nods hesitantly, which makes you snort.

“I know us kicking your ass constantly may not seem ‘nice,’ but trust me when I say I’d rather be getting tossed around by Maki or Panda than attending this dinner.”

“Bonito flakes.” You can tell Inumaki is pouting behind his face mask.

“C’mon, Toge-chan,” you draw out the ‘-chan’ and grab his free hand to swing it back-and-forth. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a good thing to not be grouped with Maki! She’s such a meanie when it comes to training.” Maki moves too fast for you to dodge her punch. Yuta laughs under his breath at your group’s antics. “Anyways, the most exciting part of this dinner will be seeing what Kamo schmuck they dig up to try to convince Satoru to marry me off.”

“They’re still on that?” Maki laughs and throws her arm over your shoulder. “You would think they’d catch the hint after you stopped wearing furisodes.”

“Salted fish roe,” Inumaki offers.

You sigh, “I would, but you know they wouldn’t treat you well. Escorting me would just mean you get to deal with their passive aggressive comments too.”

“What if I escort you?”

Your group stops walking in the middle of the crowded streets. People continue to push past, but the three of you continue to stare dumbfounded at Yuta. “Is it that bad of an idea?” He flushes bright red and turns his head to stare at the ground.

“No, no,” you reassure as you get the group moving again. “It’s just… well, you remember how we reacted when you came into the class initially, yeah? While they would make fun of Toge-kun, the people at this meeting would try to kill you without hesitation. There’s no guarantee even Rika could stop the full force of everyone in both the Zen’in and Kamo clans.”

Yuta gives a small, “Oh.” He continues to stare at the ground.

“Seriously, I would love to have an escort, especially if it was either of you. There’s only so much of clan politics I can take alone. But I’d never ask you or Toge to go through that for me.” You move from in between Maki and Inumaki to bump against Yuta. “Like, these people are the ultimate bullies. I want you to deal with them only when absolutely necessary.” He finally seems to cheer up some and you take the moment to grab his hand, tugging him forward. “Now c’mon! The bakery Nii-chan got those pastries from last week is only a few blocks away!”

The day of the meeting arrives without much fanfare. Satoru took Megumi out on a mission in the morning to exorcise some low-level curse and you were left at the school to start what would be a long day of preparations. You shuffle into the common area and begin making a cup of coffee. It isn’t until you turn to get creamer from the fridge you realize Yuta, Inumaki and Panda are eating breakfast in the same room. You flush, suddenly aware that you didn’t grab any sweatpants when you left your room and you had slept in a stolen pair of Satoru’s boxers. “Please tell me I’m still asleep,” you mutter, shutting your eyes and whipping back around to finish preparing your coffee.

Panda falls over laughing. Inumaki gives a loud whistle. Yuta is redder than you are and has his face almost flat against his rice. Of course, to add to your humiliation, Hakari and Maki come in from training.

“(y/n), I was never here and I never saw you,” Hakari throws his hand over his eyes and immediately turns to run towards his dorm room.

“You know, I don’t see why you don’t just attend dinner in this outfit,” Panda says.

“Of course you don’t, you literally don’t wear clothes. At least Hakari is smart enough to have some shame and not ogle at her.” Maki moves forward to steal a sip from your cup and gags, “God, how much sugar is in this thing?”

You pout, “The appropriate amount to get me through today. I need to borrow one of your thigh holsters, by the way. Nii-chan doesn’t want me to have to use his technique if something happens.”

“Nori?” The three jerks finally stop laughing, though Panda still seems particularly delighted at your embarrassment.

“Mm, I don’t think so. But some elders got pushy when I was sent to the last meeting and not my brother. Satoru wants me to be able to scare them, not maim them.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki still seems hesitant, but you and Maki move onto a different topic easily as you two walk to her room.

Yuta watches until he’s sure neither of you will hear him ask, “Will she really be okay?”

Inumaki, despite seeming hesitant before, gives a stronger, “Salmon.” He gestures for Yuta to pick up his phone (the boy has gotten better at understanding Inumaki, but wasn’t able to have a conversation yet) and sends a message in a group chat appropriately named Da Bois while Panda grumbles about how unfair it is that he has paws and can’t use a phone.

osamu: (y/n)ie is smiley but she’d kill someone if they tried anything lol

fushiguro: what did the idiot do

fushiguro: who is osamu

osamu: ofc u don’t know hq

fushiguro: what’s that supposed to mean

creepy-kun: when did you change my name >:(

Yuta pouts about the name change for the rest of the day and avoids his phone to keep from Inumaki’s teasing. He almost misses the photo you send in JJH Thots.

It’s you and your brother pressed cheek-to-cheek and making faces at the camera. Satoru has on his circular sunglasses instead of a blindfold, even though it’s clearly night in the photo. His bright, blue eyes peek over their edge, his smile wide, and he has one hand throwing a peace sign and the other on your side. Your mouth is tugged back into a snarl, but Yuta can see how a smile is starting to break through and your eyes are lit up. Both of your hands form claws, like you were a second away from jumping through the phone screen and pinning the viewer.

the good gojo: time to annoy some bastards!!

maki: tell naobito he’s a bitch

fushiguro: ^

osamu: you!! look!!! hot!!!!

the good gojo: the way satoru thought that was for him

the good gojo: it’s delusion luv

Yuta has seen the two of you in almost this exact pose in person. But you weren’t dressed like that, with the slightest hint of the black leather holster you wore peeking out from underneath soft layers of tulle. Even his usual carefree teacher is in Western formal wear, with a tie that matches the floral print on your dress. Yuta knew you had bickered over who got to pick and who had to match. He almost couldn’t imagine the people in the picture wrestling like the two of you had. Together, you two are blindingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair.

Yuta covered his face with his pillow and screamed.

[reidyoulikeabook]

12%

Part of Amelia’s 200 follower celebration!

Request: Angst prompt #47 with Spencer (why is it so hard for you to believe me?)

Word count: 1.5k (this got out of hand slightly)

Warnings: Mentions of schizophrenia, canon-typical violence, arguing. Can’t think of anything else! Loosely based off the events of 6x19, if you’re interested!

A/N: I am steadily working through the rest of the 200 follower celebration asks and should have them all up in the next 2 days! Thank you so much to everyone whose sent them, I’ve really enjoyed writing them :) (and feel free to send me more from the prompt list, i’m always open to them!)

i had a request for this same prompt with Emily so if you sent that ask: don’t worry! i have a different idea for it that i’m super excited to write !!!

The case was rough. Ben, the unsub who was suffering with hallucinations, had gone for Spencer’s neck with a knife. Spencer had been trying de-escalation tactics, reassuring Ben that if he put the knife down then everything would be fine. Unfortunately, it seemed he’d heard something else.

He'd lept towards Spencer, knife raised in his hand. You acted on instinct. The bullet left your gun, hitting Ben in the shoulder and knocking him down. Spencer was on him in an instant, pressing his hands over the wound.

“We need an ambulance!”

Hotch had told you you’d made the right choice. If you hadn’t taken the shot, he would have.

So why then, does it feel like you’ve done something so wrong?

Spencer doesn’t speak to you the whole ride back to the station. Hardly acknowledges you as you pack up your belongings, snatches the file you give him and shoves it into his satchel. The others pick up on it, of course, but daren’t say anything. As much as they enjoy lovingly sticking their nose into your business, they know to keep out of your fights.

He doesn’t sit near you on the jet. Instead, he takes a seat at the back, whispering to Morgan in hushed tones. You sit on the couch with Rossi, who does his best to involve you in the card game he’s teaching Seaver.

Once you’re back at the BAU, Spencer has to speak to you.

“Are you coming home with me?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“Are you actually planning on speaking to me anytime soon?”

“Once we’re home.”

His ominous tone stokes the anxiety in your chest. Nodding, you wipe your clammy palms on the side of your trousers. It doesn’t sound good. He’s never used that kind of tone with you before, no, you fight clean. None of your fights ever devolve into angry shouting, there’s such an emphasis on communication that you’re realising now that maybe anger on him doesn’t look the same as on everyone else. Anger on Spencer looks cold.

The car ride back is tense. You try to put some music on, just the radio, to alleviate some of the thick tension. Spencer switches it off immediately.

You squirm, a little uncomfortable in your seat. Feeling Spencer’s gaze on you, you wonder if he’ll say anything. Then he looks away again, pretending to spot something out of the window. Cold.

***

You’re hardly through the door, his satchel not even hung over the back of the dining room chair before the words are out of your mouth.

“Are you mad about Ben?”

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, _____, I’m mad about Ben.”

“Why?”

“You shot him.”

“He was going for your neck, I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“I was trying to calm him down.”

“His hallucinations were clearly in control of that situation. Not you. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be able to see that.”

“I could have calmed him down.”

“No you couldn’t, Spencer! Just because you know how to deal with your mother doesn’t mean you know how to deal with every unsub we see who has hallucinations.”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. They’re the only ones you’ve said that get a reaction from him though, his teeth sink into his lower lip and he shakes his head, as if amused. He’s clearly not.

“Don’t speak to me about my mom.”

“It’s relevant. Why the hell else would you have taken that case so personally? You were distracted by thinking about your mom and you were not thinking responsibly. You were acting recklessly because of your own personal vendetta. You put your gun down Spencer, you stepped towards him, you didn’t know if any of what you were doing was working. I’m not trying to undermine what you’re capable of, but you got too close today. You took a risk that I don’t think you’d have taken with any other unsub.”

“He’s not like the other unsubs,” He snaps, his voice full of venom.

“I’m not saying he is,” You say, “This wasn’t his fault. He’s sick and he needs help. I’m not blaming him. I’m criticising your judgement.”

“Yeah, you are criticising my judgement.”

You raise your eyebrows, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

"If it had been Morgan, or Hotch, or Rossi you would have thought about it before shooting. But no, because it’s me you thought I needed the protection.”

“So that’s what you think is it? I overstepped because I don’t have faith in you or your ability to protect yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Emily died a month ago, Spencer. A month ago, one of my best friends died on a case she ran off to handle alone. Forgive me for not wanting my boyfriend to be next,” You spit, throwing your coat over the back of the couch and storming towards the bedroom, “Forgive me for not wanting you to surrender your life to every unsub you feel sorry for.”

“What if it was me?” He asks, his voice breaking slightly, “What if that had been me?”

You turn around, throwing him a quizzical glance. His arms are folded defensively across his chest, gaze directed at the floor.

“What?”

“What if I was Ben? Would you have shot me?”

“Spencer what-”

“Schizophrenia is genetic. That could just as easily be me a year from now. I’ve been having those headaches that none of the doctors can figure out. This could be the start. So what if that had been me? Would you shoot me?”

“No,” You take a step towards him, hurt searing in your chest as he takes one back, “No, Spencer, of course I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You hurt him.”

“Spencer, I would never hurt you.”

“Right.”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Because I just watched you shoot a guy who was sick! He was sick ____, he didn’t want to hurt anybody!”

“He killed four people Spencer! He had a knife to two kids throats when we came in! He tried to kill you! I’m not saying it was his fault but you can’t make out like he was innocent, or like he wasn’t a threat in that situation. He needed help. He was dangerous to himself and other people.”

“What if I was?”

“What?”

“That’s why it’s so hard to believe you,” His voice cracks, “What if I was a threat in that situation?”

“You said it yourself,” You say, stepping towards him again, “That there are a lot of different types of schizophrenia. Only around 12% of people who develop it actually commit any kind of violent crime.”

“Why do you know that?”

Your eyes lock, and a lump forms in your throat. Fuck.

“I looked up some things about schizophrenia.”

He curls into himself tighter, his knuckles white from how tightly they’re balled up under his armpits. The revelation seems to physically wound him. Realisation settling over his face that this was something you’d thought about. A possibility you’d considered. Somehow it makes him feel sick. The sturdy back of the front door is the only thing keeping him upright.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get it Spence,” You try, “You’re 29. It usually hits people in their early 20′s. You’re past the point of being able to get it.”

You know he knows all this. It’s useless information, but the silence is too much to bare, the hurt in his eyes is too much to bare. You open your mouth again to speak, to try to explain, to try to tell him that you’d only done it so you’d know how to help him if the time ever came. That all you wanted was to love and support him, that no matter what happened you’d always be there to get through it together. You’ve told him so many times before and somehow he still doesn’t seem to believe you.

“What if I was going to hurt Morgan?” His voice cuts through your thoughts.

“What?”

“You said you’d never shoot me. What about if I was going to hurt someone you cared about? What if it was Morgan?”

“I would never hurt you.”

“Obviously you don’t believe I can promise you the same.”

“Spencer it’s not like that.”

“You looked it up! You were researching the statistics! It’s obviously something that’s crossed your mind and we saw today that you protect the people you love from whatever you think is dangerous. And what’s dangerous could be me. You know that.”

The look on his face is heartbreaking. The fear in his eyes, the way his cheeks pull as he sucks on them, trying to keep in the tears. He’s so afraid of himself. So afraid of what he could become.

“Spencer I don’t believe you could ever be dangerous, I don’t know how you think I could ever think that, I-”

“Maybe I should go,” He says, cutting you off.

“Spencer.”

Before you can finish the thought, he’s yanking the door open, disappearing through it. You know better than to go after him while he’s like this, better than to disturb him when it’s clear he needs time. Sitting down on the couch, you fold your knees up against your chest. Waiting for him to come back so you can explain to him again how much you love him, how you could never be afraid, how you’re by his side through it all.

As the tears spill down your face, you start to wonder how many times you’ve had this exact same fight. How many times he’s refused to believe you. How he constantly pushes you away out of his own fear about himself. And then, as the sobs wrack your chest, you wonder: how many more times can I do this?

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

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

Chapter 6 - to be posted.

[bakusquad-assemble]

Headcanons about the Bakubois seducing/flirting lines or techniques?

Bakusquad flirting headcannons:

I wanted to do this for the bakubois while they’re still in UA and sweet little awkward dating babies so these are very sfw. If you guys wanted a part 2 I can crank the spice up to 11 and make a nsfw one!

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou  is completely inept at communicating his feelings properly.

Which is why he’s pretty terrible at flirting with you at first.

Any time he tries to flirt, it always comes out wrong or in the form of insults, which only makes him more aggravated with the entire situation.

It takes a while for you to notice the subtle ways his eyes linger for just a bit too long.

Or the way his cheeks flush ever so slightly when he tells you to:

“Shut the fuck up, dumbass!” 

Or the way his body tenses up uncomfortably when you get just a bit too close to him.

He is definitely more of a silent and physical flirter. 

He’ll go out of his way to stand near you, even though his body language is closed off and cold, it’s pretty evident he just enjoys being in your presence,

The only way he’s completely comfortable showing you some sort of praise is through sparring and your hero training. And even though that’s sometimes undermined with a snide comment as well, having Bakugou compliment your form or notice your improvement makes your heart soar.

Favorite pet name: dumbass, idiot, my girl/boy/person

Kirishima Eijiro

This boy right here is an absolute hopeless romantic!

Though he definitely struggles a bit at first with his confidence.

But you bet your sweet ass Kiri is is always going to give you endless praise and validation.

You did something different to your hair? He’s going to notice and go out of his way to tell you just how amazing you look!

“Wow Y/N! That really suits you!” He’d say with a blush evident on his features.

Maybe you’re feeling a bit off one day and Kiri immediately notices, trying to come up with someway to make you feel better because;

 “you’re just so beautiful when you smile!” so he plans this big elaborate day for you full of flowers and your favourite snacks and all the words of affirmation you can handle!

This boy is just too good and sweet for his own good. 

Also can we just talk about how he’d absolutely serenade you?? Like full on boombox at your dorm door, not even caring about being embarrassed because he wants the whole school to know how important you are to him.

Favourite pet name: Baby, Doll, Sweetheart. He’s a classics man.

Kaminari Denki

Kaminari’s got the spirit, just…not a lot of game

He’s a HUGE flirt with everyone, but he definitely goes out of his way to make his crush on you known. The only problem is he pretty much solely relies on lame pick up lines and they’re literally so bad.

But he never gives up,

He loves showering you with compliments and praises because damn you are so pretty and he’s never going to stop telling you that!

He normally makes pretty inappropriate jokes with his friends, but when it comes to you, he always wants to make sure to never overstep your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. So when he picks his pick up lines, he tends to rely more on the comedy based ones and less on the raunchy or inappropriate ones.

 Because they have the best reaction from you, and even if they don’t land he’s able to play them off as just a little joke and hide his embarrassment.

“Hey Y/N! Are you a Camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!”

“You must be exhausted Y/N! You’ve been running through my mind all day!”

You honestly find his cheesy pick up lines kind of endearing, and cant help but laugh and send subtle roasts about them his way.

Which only encourages him to look up more pick up lines to share with you every. Single. Day. but you don’t mind a bit.

Because they make you laugh, and you have the sweetest laugh he’s ever heard in his life

Favourite pet name: Babe, Baby, Cutie, or any other cute nickname he can think of! I feel like he’d be the absolute master at coming up with fun and interesting nicknames.

Sero Hanta

Okay okay hear me out, this boy can FLIRT

He has a very effortless confidence that most people are drawn to, yourself included

He’s pretty fearless when it comes to saying what’s on his mind, and flirting is no exception.

Like…he’s absolutely not afraid to call you attractive/hot in front of everyone. 

“Damn Y/N! You’re lookin’ hot today!”

Or leave lingering touches on your shoulders or arms in such a reassuring and comforting way that just sort of makes you melt.

Is a little bit more inappropriate than the other boys, but definitely never wants to make you uncomfortable.

Also can we talk about him probably being able to dance though? He 100% will offer to teach you how to salsa (because we stan this Latin king lets be real) Because any excuse to have his hands on you or spend some quality one on one time with you, he’s absolutely not going to pass up. 

He’ll let his hands rest on your waist as he tries to guide your movements, his own hips moving with ease in such an enticing way that you’re both just flustered at the end of your session. But you’ll always keep coming back, because there’s just something about Sero. 

Favourite pet names: Hottie, hotstuff. also quick side note! I’m so sorry for my EXTENDED leave of absence! I took a step back from anime while I was in school but like ayye hi I’m back and ready to write headcannons and short requests! If you have any ideas or prompts send them my way! i still have a few in my inbox that i am working on but like letsss gooo. Let me know if you guys want a part two to this one too!

[voltagesmutter]

Lucifer - A, C, D, I, M, O, Y. Avatar of Pride.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly sweet after sex, ensures your okay and that nothing was uncomfortable for you. Helps to dress you and presses tender kisses to your swollen lips. He cares so deeply for you and shows it with his gentle actions, even though only moments ago he was ploughing you into the floor.

He can get scared sometimes that when he’s in demon form he’ll lose control and hurt you, seeing the angry red marks of his claws upon your skin, he’ll kiss them and promise to talk to Solomon about a spell to help them heal. Regardless how rough or lost in the moment he gets, his main concern is always you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Always inside you, as if he’s scenting you (which he is, got to keep them pesky brothers away).

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He finds it hard to control himself when you get bratty with him, challenging his authority especially in-front of his brothers. 

“Did you enjoy your little stunt?” A sharp blow, a wide palm covered by a leather hide, comes down up upon your ass.

“L-Luci!”.

“Answer me,” His tone was dark, a hint of lust riddled in his words.

“No, I’m sorry,” You whined, wincing when another smack came down, this time harder and followed by a disapproving tut. 

“Isn’t it funny how in front of my brothers you were so keen to undermine me, what was it you called me?” He pretends to think, the anticipation high in the air, “Oh that's right, ‘Old Strict Balls’”. The feeling of his hand against you once more, unable to hold back the moan as the sharp sting melted into pleasure. 

“I’ll show you just how strict I can be,” His voice hot against your ear as he leans over you, a hand fisting into your hair pulling you up off his desk you were bent over. The desire thick in his eyes as he turned you around, eye’s glowing with red and need as he licked his lips hungrily at you. The arousal between your legs ruining the underwear you were wearing, you’d played this dance together many a-times.

“Now,” The sound of un-clinging metal from his belt sends shivers across your spine, “Get on your knees and apologise,”. You dropped instantly to your knees, biting your lower lip as innocently as you could whilst he pulled out his already hardened erection, angrily red and wonton with need.

“Apologise to me and I might just let you cum this time,” A hiss leaves his throat to feel your mouth wrap around his leaking head, one of his leathered hands entwining in your hair to push you down further, a raspy, “Good girl,” follows.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Whilst he comes across as harsh at times, every word is filled with love. ‘Your not going out in that,’, ‘Stop spending so much time that foolish Mammon,’, ‘Your behind on your work,’, it’s not to be cruel, controlling or demanding. It’s because he cares for you and wants you to achieve your full-potential. 

Get him alone and watch that sternness melt away, give him a kiss and tell him ‘how cute he looks’ and watch him become a blushing mess. He adores spending time alone with you, even if it’s sitting on his knee whilst he works through piles of paperwork, just having intimate moments enough make his heart swell. 

He’s confident in himself to express how he feels through both words and actions, often telling you ‘he loves you’ with sweet kisses. When he’s not in demon form sex is a lot more loving and more on the ‘making love’ side, but in demon form it’s rough, fast-paced it’s only after when your a mess in his arms that his softer side will re-emerge. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Get bratty and argue back with him and watch his cock twitch with need. He’s so use to being in-control that when you act unruly around him, he loves nothing more than to teach you a lesson on your behaviour. “It appears Miss.____ you’ve been a bad girl who needs to be punished for her behaviour,”. He can barely get the words out with growling.

When his ego takes a bruise he needs reassurance that it’s okay for him to be perfect, he needs to know you still love him just because Satan squared up to him over breakfast, almost frightened that you’ll leave him because of it. Which of course you would never do. Moments like these is when sex can either sweet and filled with reassuring words of love or it can do a flip 180.

The two pairs of ebony wings fluttered, two curved horns pulsing with need as his eyes radiated with desire staring down up your naked form. His claws sinking into your skin ensuring to leave marks for days to come, to remind you of the raw velocity of his power.

“Again,” Through gritted teeth, pulling your waist backwards to meet his thrust, leaning back slightly on his knees to angle it perfectly to hit that spot inside you, “Say it again”.

“Y-your better than S-Satan… Lucifer please!” Another sharp thrust sends you clenching over him, fingers fisted into the sheets as your back curves, Lucifer keeping you on the edge as he had been for a while. 

“Again!” Growling like an untamed animal, wings now spread out. Sweat ran from his forehead and down his neck, making its way across his slightly-tone chest before dripping on to your arching back. Never had Lucifer been this intense, built up anger that spilled out into his actions, all because Satan mildly flirted with you at dinner.

“Your-... fuck, better than…Satan, fuck!” A hazy hog taking over your mind, unable to repeat the phrase he’d been making you scream since thrusting into you, ensuring his brothers would hear you, ensuring Satan would hear you. “Lucifer!” The cry of his name gets stuck in your throat, arms giving out as your chest falls to the bed, your ass kept in place by the strength of Lucifer as he with-held his teasing motions and pounded into you. You came around with him with little to no-warning, the bed shunting against the wall as his pace never faltered. A smirk on his face as he continued through the night until you was a boneless puddle, having all his brother know it was you who was screaming his name well into the early morning, he really was the avatar of pride after all. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

As the avatar of pride, he gets off just giving you pleasure. Nothing makes him stand taller and prouder than hearing you moan his name over and over whilst he delivers you a pleasure like none other. That sharp-witted tongue isn’t just good for hurling abuse at his brothers, at clicking in disappointment at something dumb Mammon said, it’s also perfect to bring your knees weak as he laps it up and down your clit. Seeing you so needy, so desperate, so lost in the pleasure only he can bring to you with just his mouth alone is enough to fulfil his sense of pride. 

He knows his younger brothers all have/had a thing for you so his ego is boosted almost back up to the heavens to have your lips wrapped around his cock, an action that is forever and only for him. Blow him when he’s stress, which lets be honest is 99% of the time, or after he’s had a pent up row with Satan and he’ll reward tenfold by repeating it on you before fucking you senseless. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Being the more mature male of the brother’s Lucifer isn’t a horn-dog like the others, he’s able to control his needs. When he’s overwhelmed with work there might be a bit of dry spell for you both because he’s just so busy.

“Luci… come to bed,” You whisper, pressing kisses from the corner of his mouth down his jaw line, a strong arm encircled around your waist as you straddled him.

“Soon my love, I promise,” A softness in his voice, light bags underneath his eyes and you can tell he’s been working tirelessly for the last week. 

“You said that last night,” You pouted against his neck, purposefully pushing your chest against his, “Lucifer I miss you,”. Pulling back slightly, resting your hands on your thighs and slowly drawing up the nightdress you were wearing, giving him a slight glance to the bare flesh glistening beneath, “I need you, please don’t make me go to bed alone again,”. It’s enough to make a low groan fall from his throat, placing the quill he’d been writing with in his free hand down and lean forward capturing your lips in a soft kiss. 

“Let’s go to bed,” He whispered between kisses, holding the back of your thighs as he stands up, letting you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, carrying you from his office and to his room, lips never parting.

ABC’s masterlist here

[scottydog4-blog]

Okay.

It’s been a day.

There are now a LOT of gifs and Twitter-pinions about the premier, and I have some too.

When I finished ‘More Joy’, I quite literally thought “I want them to go back to how it was”…. and I felt like a complete Sharpwin traitor. I actually wanted to box it all back up and have the old Max and Helen back, corridor walks and longing stares, all happening safely inside the walls of New Amsterdam hospital. And at the same time I wanted to rewatch the whole episode to see new Max and Helen again because they were (mostly) adorable.

Then I spent the day reflecting and the more I thought about what I didn’t like, the more I realised one thing. I didn’t like that they weren’t at the hospital. It felt so weird to see them at Helen’s place, half dressed and TALKING, openly. It was a bit too much for my over analytical, ready-to-pick-up-on-all-and-any-subtext brain. It was a change seeing them like that, and I don’t seem to like change. Which is hard because it seems season 4 is not only about joy, but about change.

Yes yes, the first scene was 🔥🔥🔥 endless gifs. In hindsight, I wish I’d never seen any previews but alas, I’m a spoiler junkie. It was awesome though.

The second scene was slightly dramatic and achieved its goal of throwing a nice cold-bucket-of-water on the moment 🥶🥶🥶

The third scene did feel a little out of left field because in Helen’s season finale London movie her mum was not very likeable and for most of Season 3 Mina was a pain in the ass, so wanting us to root for her to go hang out with both of them instead of her very warm and loving NA fam and her new hot boyfriend is a hard sell! But go read someone else’s analysis of that because a lot has been said about her past and her healing journey etc. I can accept it, it’ll just sting a bit (see hatred of change above).

I’m going for the next three scenes.

Scene four. I loved it because they were up and they were walking about and talking normally and I think them walking and talking is as much part of both of their characters as their longing looks. He’s followed her down endless hospital corridors, now around her apartment, and maybe soon across an ocean. And yes you can complain about the I love yous, or you might love how they happened. Whatever. All I saw was Max react to her saying ‘I love you’ as if finally, even to him, this was completely obvious. I mean, his face is like ‘duh’. It’s why he’s ready to fight so hard for her. He’s not second guessing that she loves him anymore. And that felt good to see.

Scene five. I hated it. I still do. But I hate it because it makes me feel uneasy and uncomfortable, like it becomes painfully obvious that their long distance solution is not going to work and it’s awkward watching them realise it to. Which is the point. Because we all need to get that long distance is just not going to work. If they went down that route for an episode or two (or five) then that would mean Helen would be able to leave, and Max would stay, and that’s certainly not what we want. She’s one of our favourite doctors and she has amazing patient storylines and being Max’s long distance girlfriend is not just a down grade for Helen (and Freema), it’s insulting. What I think most viewers would have liked by the end of this scene is literally for Helen to give up on her London dream so everything goes back to being easy and we would get Max and Helen staying at New Amsterdam, same as they always have been, only now perfectly in love. Also an insult to woman everywhere. But you know who absolutely never tries to suggest that, who keeps making suggestion after suggestion, who literally declares different iterations of “it’s gunna work” every time she implies that it won’t. Max. He never asks her not to do this, only reassures her they’ll figure it all out. And that also felt good to see.

Lastly, scene six. My absolute favourite (yes, above scene one). It makes complete sense now why the last scene on the roof is the most comfortable one to watch. Because it’s them. Max and Helen. Back at New Amsterdam. On their roof. Just existing next to each other. Clothed (lol). “Oh hi” never sounded so good after all the ups and downs during the episode. Glancing at each other as they chat in front of the NYC skyline. That feeling that everything had changed evaporated instantly. Change MAY be coming, but for now they are still here.

And when they do start to talk about them, it doesn’t feel so weird. In fact, this scene is literally pure JOY. How can you argue otherwise? Max, who admitted on the very same roof to the very same woman how he’d let his wife down because he couldn’t turn down his chance to climb ‘Everest’, is now willing to do the exact opposite and GIVE UP his Everest so Helen can climb hers. Because he loves her. Plus, LOOK AT FREEMA’S FACE. How does she do all those emotions like that? And then there’s Max, who just looks back at her like ‘of course I’ll follow you, you’re my joy silly.’

SO MUCH JOY ON THAT ROOF!!!

People are only mad because they are freaking out about how the show creators are going to possibly make this work without them. And that in itself is just totally unnecessary.

New Amsterdam is a show about the Medical Director, Max Goodwin, and all his awesome staff. It’s about patients. It’s about shining a light on things and causes that matter. It’s about New York (see all those rooftop scenes, that skyline is the other character). People LOVE it just as it is. WE love it. Those things are the premise of the whole show. So can everyone CHILL. What they’ve done, is they’ve put that thing we love on the line and now we are all wanting to know how the hell they’re going to fix this mess. And they are going to say OVER and OVER that Max and Helen are DEFINITELY leaving because implying otherwise undermines the whole storyline. We need to feel they are leaving to be invested in whatever happens next. Time jump or mind changes or any number of things they might throw our way to get a back to the premise of the show. And we are going to tune in week after week to find out. And that my friends, is how television works. And thinking they were going to do otherwise was just setting yourself up for disappointment.

To the people demanding Max and Helen be happy for at least one episode… um, they looked very happy in episode 1 and they look very happy up against an ambulance in episode 2, and in the corridor smooching in episode 3, and wandering the streets of NYC some time in the future…

To the people who thought they were getting 5 full minutes of sexy times. I believe what we were told was we’d be ‘happy with the first 5 minutes’ (e.g. that glorious time before Helen said ‘I should never have…’)

To the people who read every single article and Q&A - Schulner LITERALLY said so many times that the season would be about discovering your joy and what happens after you get what you want. I think one time he even mentioned ‘chasing after’ it. We were basically warned and WE ARE LITERALLY LIVING THIS NOW TOO. We got Sharpwin, now we have to live with what happens next. Cause and effect in action.

To the people annoyed with all the drama this show has caused. It’s a… drama show. It was to be expected.

So let’s try to relax and enjoy the ride :)

[ouma-kichi]

Heey! Everything fine..?

I hope! Can you do Shuichi with a male S/O who always get in fights for him? (Like, to protect him 4 bad people) I don't know if you get it, i'm awful at explaining... And my english is terrible, sorry..

awwww babe dont be ashamed of your english, i totally understood it! it’s perfectly fine i PROMISE you !!!! and i love this idea sm aw boyfriends

Shuichi Saihara getting into fights to protect a Male!Reader

Info/Warnings: no warnings really, some cursing bc its me lolol, reader is male with he/him pronouns!

EDIT: OMG BYE IM SO DUMB YOU MEANT IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND AOFJUSHFSKJF I’LL DO THIS REQUEST AGAIN FOR U BBY

shuichi does NOT like to be confrontational whatsoever, but fuck man

he just looks at you. your hands, your eyes, your (gasp!) lips, the freckles and birthmarks and scars, everything about you. you’re just so handsome and cute and pretty and sweet and and and

and he just has this overwhelming urge to protect you

and he’s barely willing to fight for himself, he’s so unsure and anxious but it’s so different when it comes to you..

he’d fight for you till the end of time or walk to the ends of the earth to protect you, it’s like he becomes a different person when he sees you get hurt by someone

if he ever hears someone disagree with you for no reason or undermine your intelligence, he immediately uses his lil detective boy brain to prove exactly why they’re completely wrong and why his bbyboy is right

(this is bouta be so ooc bc i can’t script shuichi dialogue byeee) “no, THAT’S WRONG! you’re uneducated and uninformed, which is why you can’t respond in any meaningful way without making him feel bad about himself. you made your arguments with no trustworthy proof, show me your proof !!” yknow ? class trial type beat

he just. he cant help it... how could someone try to make you feel shitty ? you’re so good and you’re so sweet to him and he’s so happy you’re his boyfriend and HE’S YOUR BOYFRIEND WOWOW

his love for you is so BIG, you make him feel smart and you trust him so much, he almost feels obligated to protect you and prove your intelligence

he listens to people argue with you, and he observes them, and he knows when they’re making shit up

it’s kinda part of becoming a detective that, to an extent at the very least, he needs to understand body language. he understands nonverbal cues, and he is extremely observant! so when people are just pulling shit out of their ass, he KNOWWSSSSS

and it gets him into trouble bc he sees all their nonverbal cues

its like his brain keeps going “the uptick in their fidgeting and itching can be indicative of anxiety, irritation, or deception

their voice’s pitch hiked up when they started their claim, meaning their nervous

their volume raised after my boyfriend responded to their argument, indicating their getting defensive

their eyes keep flicking from him to the floor during important parts of their argument, common unconscious behavior of lying”

and fuckkkkk if he knows this bitch is lying why would he NOT point it out? why would he NOT fight for you????

so he just says EVERYTHING, not because he’s not thinking, but because he’s thinking so much and so fast

and it makes you kinda nervous bc what if !! someone gets super mad at him !! and tries to hurt him not even just verbally but physically !! you get super super scared for your lil boyfie bc what r u gonna do if he gets into a fistfight !!!!!!!!!

but he just keeps reassuring you that he’ll be okay, and that he can’t let you get hurt by some fuckin idiot like that ! you’re both flattered and anxious bc wow this guy REALLY LOVES ME hes willing to fight for me but... oh god hes willing to FIGHT FOR ME.....

his stupid gay ass just cares so much for you, he could never watch you be sad bc it would just make him so upset !!!! so he tries !! everything in his power !! to make sure !!! you never get hurt !!!!!!!

so he keeps fighting people with no remorse

so he can make sure his boyfriend and his baby and his love and his darling and his honey never feels unsure or unsmart

don’t worry lil babie bc shuichi will fight for you, not with fists but with his argumentative skills and psychological observations !