#he wants to be known he wants to be held. he wants to feel things. he can't.

[azullumi]

TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!

premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons

note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving

SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.

AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.

VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.

LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.

GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.

ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.

JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.

GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.

special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[moonyasnow]

Seeing Green.

How they react to an S/O who tries to hold back bad jealousy issues

CHARACTERS : Leona, Azul, Kalim

CONTENT : Intense jealousy from Reader, Reader has thoughts of murder (Leona's part), unhealthy behaviors (Leona's part), Reader is implied to be insecure, who am I kidding almost all of them are insecure

Jealousy was an ugly thing, you knew…and even more so within you. It was ugly, and burning, and scared, and desperate, and bloodlust. It teemed within you, coursing through your veins as surely as your blood, seeming to radiate from your painfully throbbing heart and spread like miasma constricting your lungs and out through your nose in heavy, laborious breaths.

Sometimes you were afraid he could smell it on you...

Leona

Leona Kingscholar, the overlooked, never-desired, second prince of the Sunset Savannah was no stranger to jealousy…no, envy was more like it, what he yearned for seemingly always just out of reach no matter how far he extended his hand. But Jealousy and Envy— desire to keep near what is yours, and desire for what someone else's possesses— are two sides to the same coin.

So then, when he saw the signs of jealousy, he instantly recognized it for what it was.

After a summons from his brother and sister-in-law back to the Sunset Savannah for some important international relations event he 'simply couldn't miss!' he dragged you with him as his living emotional support pillow. But as always happened at those events, something he'd grown used to and been expecting, he had 'suitors' crawling all over him.

Second Prince with a bane of a Signature Spell and a bad reputation or no, he was still royalty, and quite handsome. But even if the latter wasn't the case, nothing will ever stop social climbers. He knew none of them could care less about him as a person, only his title, and he had no interest in any of them.

Even though you knew this, the pit of dread in your stomach still made itself known. You didn't know any of the people who came up to the two of you— had no idea if, if given the opportunity, they might actually have any chance of stealing him away from you. But that didn't seem to matter. Because as soon as one of them came up and began to flirt with him, in the open, right next to you, his partner… Your mind roiled and screamed and wanted them dead. You wanted their head on a platter, wanted to see them shoved out a 10-story window, dig your nails into the sides of their face and force them to look at you and tremble while you asked them what they were doing, acting so familiar with your lover as though you weren't even there.

He noticed the shift in energy beside him as quick as it appeared, glancing to the corner of his eye to see you gritting your teeth, taking long, steady breaths and trying with all your might to hide the look of disgust, rage and anguish on your face. He understood instantly, and didn't even try to stop his grin.

To think his little Herbivore, usually so nice and sweet and docile, had such an ugly side to them. One that was just for him. That he alone had the sway to turn an unsure and timid thing like yourself into such a monster. But he couldn't say it was a sight he hated. He was the only this possessiveness of yours was directed toward. He, and no one else, was that special to you. He, and no one else, was desired by you.

He would exploit it. It was for him after all, wasn't it? So that feeling of yours was his to do with as he pleased. He wouldn't go out of his way, of course, who do you take him for? Instead going out of his way not to go out of his way: letting the touch of an overeager suitor linger on his shoulders instead of shrugging them off, returning their gaze for a second too long, pretending he didn't notice you biting your lip harder in distress. The way you clung to him so tightly after you retired to his room for the night, curling your body so closely around him, as though scared he'd disappear if you let go, was too sweet not to. You held him like he was precious. Priceless. More important than anything. It was a feeling he couldn't help but chase after the first time he felt it because of you.

It made him feel so powerful. Satiated something inside him with roots so deep he could never pull it out. But for a moment, this jealousy of yours made him forget it. You recognized his greatness, after all: enough to be scared of him being taken away from you…

…You recognized him.

But…when you woke him up in the middle of the night, crying quietly into his chest, he knew why. He took it too far.

Would he want to be more straightforward with you if he could? Possibly. Was it cruel? Most definitely. But 'honest' and 'nice' were two words that had never been used to describe him. He wasn't capable of that, so why even try? Besides, you knew what you signed up for, being with him.

…At least, he hoped so.

Azul

A youth spent overlooked, insulted, bullied and outcast from the peers one is supposed to be connecting with, for Azul Ashengrotto, resulted in a very low sense of self worth. And with it, a deeply engrained fear that he wasn't good enough to truly keep the things he cherished. At least, not if he acted like himself. While for him, that most often manifested in a fear of you rejecting him; seeing a hint of weakness in him and deciding to 'cut your losses' and run, he was also not a stranger to jealousy.

You wanted to cling to him, be closer to him, hold him in a vice grip and never let go. But you were afraid to… Scared that your hold might be suffocating to him. For while you loved the intelligent, dedicated and hard-working side of him, it was also the one you feared might discard you, write you off a distraction, if he knew of your desperation for him. So then…when you saw Jade and Floyd so seemingly comfortable and easily able to take his attention even from his work, alarm bells rung in your head. You tried to soothe yourself with the fact that it was just because they were childhood friends, but that seemed to have the opposite effect. They were closer to him than you. You feared you would never be that close to him. That if it came to it, he would choose them over you in a heartbeat. It seemed to crush you from the inside out.

But you hid it. Experience had taught you that being clingy and jealous, much less showing others those feelings, never lead to anything good. You swallowed it and put it in a bottle and hoped he would never notice. Hoped you could wait until you were alone to spill your tears.

One day when you came to his office to spend time with him, your time together was briefly interrupted by Jade, coming to deliver papers of some kind. You expected him to leave quickly afterwards, watching and waiting for him to make his exit. But he met your eyes briefly, then began to make small talk with Azul. With the two focused on each other, you, at his side, felt like a fly on the wall. A ghost. A third wheel, even in the presence of your lover. Your jealousy reared its ugly head with a passion. The pressure within you only kept building until Jade had finally left.

It was then that he saw you, almost trembling, trying and failing to hide the tears welling up in your eyes and shifting infinitesimally closer to him, hands twitching to close the distance, breathing like your lungs were filled with stones, yet biting your lip hard in a by-now futile attempt to hide it. At first, he began to panic, mind spinning with thoughts of what he could have done to upset you so. But then it hit him— this only started after your time together was interrupted.

When he realized that, he realized the probable cause for your distress.

You feared losing his attention, losing his love, losing him, didn't you? You were scared someone else would come along and make him forget about you. He understood. Seven, he hated how much he understood… So much that it felt uncomfortable, seeing his own inner ugliness reflected back at him.

Having gathered evidence, he decided to confront you with it in order to ask you about the issue, like a detective would a crime-suspect. He wanted to believe it was because he knew you would lie if asked without proof. But it was just what he knew; his methods of dealing with any and all confrontation having come from a history of needing to appear always calm, detached and in-control.

When he'd confirmed his suspicions and learned of your fear, he feared he might start crying. Wether from sadness that his lover could understand that fear, or from relief at not being the only one.

You expected him to be disgusted with the extent of your jealousy, your urge to be possessive and forbid him to look at anyone but you. But next thing you knew, he, who so often shied away from even your touch, had you wrapped gently in his arms.

From then on he let you act a bit more possessive of him. He knew what would soothe his own anxiety, and hoped that the same might soothe yours. He was still plagued with the dual fear that clinging too much might suffocate you, and that loosening his hold too much might see you slip from his grasp, so he couldn't bring himself to do it. Still, he let you cling to his arm. It made him flush with both smug pride and embarrassment at the same time, having you coiled around his arm in front of others, soothing his own insecurity as much as the twins' teasing tickled his defensive side.

But he still let you.

If he could still find you lovely even with that 'ugly' side to you, he reasoned…then perhaps…just hypothetically…you could see the same in him.

One day, maybe he would show you…

Kalim

Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the richest merchant family in the Scalding Sands, one of the richest families in the world, purely by his parents' design, has never known jealousy. All that he wished for, he got. Knowing the precarious position he was in, that an attempt could be made on his life at any moment, he never took all that he had for granted. He was grateful for it, even though his cheer might not make it readily apparent. Yet as he had never truly lost anything he deeply cherished, he wouldn't be familiar with the feelings that weighed you down.

Though that didn't mean he wouldn't notice if you weren't feeling well. He might not be able to accurately place the reasons behind it, but through experience gained from years and years of playing host at various parties— or perhaps just an older brother's instinct— he always noticed when someone was feeling low.

Kalim had always been a social butterfly, and you knew this well— better than almost anyone, in fact, partly due to that being how you met in the first place. He was mesmerizing, so in his element entertaining people at parties, or just in regular conversation, and seeing him shining so brightly and enjoying each second of life with such a passion only made you fall even deeper for him.

But unlike him, sharing didn't come as naturally to you. No matter how hard you tried to reason with yourself, say that him putting an arm around another's shoulder was only a friendly gesture, that you knew Kalim was just a naturally touchy person and it didn't mean he didn't still consider you his favorite, nothing would soothe the tempest that raged within you. Each of his smiles that you so adored, directed at someone that wasn't you, felt like poison stabbed into your gut. Every time he laughed at a comment or joke made by someone else, the world seemed to drain of color, bit by bit. No matter how much you loved— adored— him, those feelings kept coming back every second he wasn't sitting next to you, holding you, leaning on your shoulder and directing all his focus to you.

It felt inevitable, in your mind, that it would end with you being forgotten in favor of someone else. Someone funnier, someone smarter, someone happier, someone more confident, someone less anxious…someone better.

When you waded too deep into the turbulent waters and risked losing yourself to the whirlwind of your anxious, paranoid thoughts is when he would always find his way back to you again. He could always tell, like some intuitive feeling, that something was bothering you. He might not know why, since you didn't often tell him, but he didn't like seeing you like that: looking so sad and lost. Spending time worrying about what the cause could be would only be taking time away from what was actually important: making you feel better. So he did what he did best.

He came up next to you again, linking his arm through yours and rubbing your foreheads together, beginning to talk your ear off about something or other, having you try more of the feast and telling jokes to make you laugh. Your sweet laugh made his spirits soar even higher than before. And that just made him want to make you happy even more! Like a spiral of happiness.

And when, after everyone had left, you held him tighter, he held back just as tight, loving the heat of your entwined bodies curled up under the covers. You were holding a bit too tightly to be comfortable at times. But every time you recognized that and loosened your hold on him, he squeezed back tighter. It was alright, that's what he wanted to say. It was alright for you to hold him as tight as you needed.

After you eventually fell asleep, he kissed your forehead gently as you slept in his arms. He might not know the reason behind your sadness, but he'd always do whatever he could to make it go away. Nothing brought him greater joy than seeing yours. And the thought that his presence alone could soothe you made him so happy. He couldn't help himself and pressed more and more feather-light kisses all over your face.

He felt like the luckiest man in the world, getting to call you his, and you calling him yours.

Hopefully, you would be forever.

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So! This was my first headcanon post! I uh hope you liked it! Not gonna lie, I'm a liiiittle nervous posting this ; 0 v 0) I guess I'm still not really used to sharing my writing with people haha

[dreamsinmoonlight]

Angel Cocoon

(Blame the brain rot. I watched Hazbin and had a dream about pathetic Adam and found myself deeply in love with this asshole. I did not expect it and I feel if I don't write I will explode so have this. Probably not my best work but it was stuck in my head all day at work; I have ideas for other stuff, including a more indepth fic (might be x reader, might be x oc, haven't decided yet). Hopefully this isn't too bad though

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Adam (damned pathetic man), angel!Reader

Pairing: Adam x Reader

Genre: Comfort, fluff (not smutty? For Adam? I'm impressed by myself sometimes)

Summary: Every morning this happens. You do not mind.)

Every morning you were thankful that heaven's temperature was always perfect. Because every morning you woke up in a state that could best be described as the Cocoon.

When you first started dating the egotistical, loud mouthed, foul mouthed, perverted asshole known as the leader of the exterminators, aka Adam the first man or “Dick Master” if he could ever get his way, you had expected a lot of things. Getting your ear talked off on a regular basis, all sorts of pet names running the gambit from honestly a bit sweet (what, you liked being called sugartits) to you're-lucky-i-don't-take-you-seriously-Adam (who calls their significant other a slut, really), being expected to go to most if not all of his music gigs, occasionally having your back blown out because damn could that man fuck, learning to find some of the stupidest things funny because he managed to make it so; these were things you expected or at least got better used to. It was sort of like dating a hyperactive teenager but nine feet tall and with the strength enough to swing around a guitar-axe like it was a pool noodle. You had not had a normal day since the moment you agreed to this and you had quickly realized that that was fine by you.

But this. This you did not expect. Every morning, every single morning because God forbid you be allowed to sleep alone, you woke up not to your room, not to the ceiling or the sunlight filtering through the window or even your blankets. No, instead you woke up to the first man, first of the human angels, curled around you like you were going to disappear if he didn't hold you as tight and completely as possible. To call what he did a koala hug would be a disservice and did nothing to describe this phenomena, which upon the first morning after you had fallen asleep in bed with him you had freaked out a little over. You still were startled every time you woke up to it since. It was more like what you coined it as: a cocoon, created by the combination of two factors.

One: Adam. He was of course much bigger than you, a giant among angels and that was how you liked it. After all who didn't daydream of climbing a tree once in a while? Except this tree loved to talk and could make you feel things you were pretty sure was very much not pure. You were a good, solid four feet shorter than him, almost half his size; this worked in your favor when you wanted to hide behind him because of some stupid prank or when you again decided to climb onto him or honestly generally being picked up by the troublemaking angel which he certainly liked to do. The other side was that when he curled up his body enough it could surround you with little effort at all. Those arms of his wrapped easily around you and you could feel the fraction of true strength with which he held you, still more than enough to hold you where you were. His legs were folded up just enough to cut off escape from below, leaving you cradled against his body. His head tucked down, buried in your hair, he was warm and hairy in multiple places, and if you were absolutely honest a little overweight for someone who lived in heaven of all places. But none of these things bothered you and in the position you were in, your head pressed against his bare chest, you could hear the ever surprising existence of a heartbeat within a long dead man's chest. You felt your own calm hearing it; you couldn't help but love it.

Two: his wings. Oh those beautiful golden appendages, almost as beautiful as those golden eyes of your idiot boyfriend's. The feathers shimmered and shone near enough to rival the sun and you could see them past your prison of Adam flesh. How he could sleep so peacefully with them wrapped around you both was a mystery you spend every morning contemplating; it could not possibly be comfortable. Your own shuddered lightly on your back in sympathy but trying to stretch yours only brushed them against his and his, as they always did when this happened, quaked but did not open. He slept with them wrapped around you two like an eggshell, encasing you both and leaving no escape all around.

You reached out by instinct, running your fingers lightly along the feathers. They too were warm and soft as down yet you knew how strong they truly were, how strong his wings were like all other parts of him.

Save maybe his psyche. You felt the feathers shiver under your touch and he made a noise in his sleep, nuzzling his face further into your hair, his arms holding tighter to you. You woke like this every morning, since the first time you'd fallen into bed with him, and at first it was a mystery why, like so many things about him. How could he be so loud, how could he be so crude, how could he be so rude. But bit by bit you'd learned and you had come to understand.

He held onto you like you might disappear. Somewhere deep down that's exactly what he feared would happen. You knew about Lilith, you knew about Eve, and you knew how to read subconscious messages. He encased you like he was afraid otherwise you'd slip away, that you'd leave, that you'd go too. You woke to your head against his chest; how often had he fallen asleep with his on yours? Adam was many things, and truthful about what was really going on in his head and heart was definitely not one of them, but it didn't take a genius to know why he hated letting you out of his sight. Why he always held you like this in his sleep. Why he got enraged whenever the idea of you ever meeting Lucifer Morningstar came up.

Could you blame him? You couldn't and nor could you resist a smile as you wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes and snuggling close to your ever-so-troublesome lover.

Sure you probably should get up soon but honestly it was hard to want to when you felt comfy right where you were. Besides it wasn't like you really minded all that much what would happen next after you both woke; he'd whine and you'd massage his sore wings. But you'd long since stopped trying to convince him to not sleep like that.

It was hard not to love being loved so deeply after all.

[anundyingfidelity]

RED LEDGER — Soldier Boy/Ben (Chapter I)

Summary: As a former FBSA analyst, you find yourself fighting against supes in a morally gray manner. Knowing there’s not much to do thanks to Hughie’s revelations about your current director and your hidden feelings for him, you agree to help his team despite your lack of special abilities. Just like Butcher and his boys, your family has been hurted badly by Vought and its superhuman puppets. But the one you hate the most is perhaps the worst nightmare you could ever ask to face every damn day: Soldier Boy in the flesh.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 3.2k.

Genre: slow burn, angst, some hurt/comfort and romance in the end.

Warnings: Soldier Boy hurting reader intentionally and unintentionally, some misogyny, suggestive and sexual themes, mentions of a dead older brother, mentions of drugs and alcohol usage, usual language, canon violence, wounds, blood, some OOC!Soldier Boy, reader is a badass, unrequited love (Hughie x reader).

Chapter I |

GEN MASTERLIST!

Note: i hope you all like this short fic, i'm still working on my previous soldier boy fic but with season 4 right at the corner i'm arranging some stuff for it, so meanwhile please have this commissioned work, thanks !!

If you’d like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Your eyes opened with lightning force. You can’t hear anything but an uncomfortable and annoying beep sound, echoing in your ears making you flinch and hiss in pain. Moments before you found yourself in an old, dusty tech room with Hughie inside a secret, rotten lab. Now, taking secret files and information of those who sent the V there wasn’t coming out easily.

And now, everything was blurry, your body aching on the ground as you tried to get yourself up on your knees after a very known blast blew up everything around. Debris and smoke surrounded you and you tried finding your partner with the poor visibility you had, the lights flickering on and off as rocks fell by your side.

“Hughie?!” you scream with a sore throat, inhaling the dust and dragging yourself on the floor. “Hughie!”

You perceived a mess as you stood up on your feet. Every limb and inch of your body felt like a truck had hit you countless times. This was one of the things you hated the most; being around supes all the fucking time, exposed to their childish tantrum and, in consequence, getting fucking hurt by them and their uncontrolable powers.

As the dirty haze faded away, you were able to spot Hughie’s legs. He was lying under a big hunk of concrete, and you ran towards him however your body allowed you to. Once you dropped yourself to his side, you tried to push the concrete away with no results. You could hear his whines, observing his eyes shutting close, teeth biting his lip and blood running down his temple. At least he was alive.

“Someone help!” you shouted, giving up on your vain attempts to free him. “Help! Please!”

And like a prayer, Kimiko showed inside the ruined room. Injured, with blood and guts sprinkling on her clothes, she quickly came closer to where you knelt. She gently pushed you aside and lifted up the concrete, throwing it away without further effort. A heavy gasp left your throat, taking in the sight of a big metal rod buried on his stomach, making a pool of blood on his shirt.

“Fuck! I’m bleeding, I’m dying, I’m fucking dying,” Hughie hissed through his teeth. You could hear better now the strain on his voice, the beep long dissipated from your ears.

“Shut up! We’re gonna take this out of you,” you said, sternly. In reality, you were just as fucking freaked out as him. You didn’t want to lose him. You just couldn’t.

Kimiko gave you a look; one that you knew too much. She nodded at you, eyes narrowed, and immediately, you grabbed Hughie’s hand. He screamed when Kimiko took the rod out of him, throwing it away with a thud. He held tightly to your hand while the supe applied pressure on his wound, soaking her hands on his puddle of blood.

“That shit hurt!” Hughie cried, his heartbeat increasing, anxiously breathing. “Ugh, fuck!”

“I know, but we have to go now. We have everything we need, let’s go.”

You took one of Hughie’s arms, helping him sit up. Kimiko made him stand up, taking all the weight on her. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed your hand again. It was a sign he was disturbed and concerned. And as much as you wanted to keep his touch, you pulled away, letting Kimiko do her work. She was much stronger than you anyway, and the last thing you wanted was hurting him more. They disappeared behind the rubble, Hughie’s whines of pain slowly disappearing as they left you behind. The room you were in now had two walls barely standing, door completely destroyed, and computers and metal messily arranged on the ground.

When you looked back to the direction from where the blast came, you caught a glimpse at him. That fucking bastard. He strolled through the mess between the pillars that were left slowly, and his green eyes studied the place around, realizing what happened. Or better said, what he caused. His hard stare fell on you, standing a few feet away from you. Your fists clenched and your eyes turned red at the sight. If you were more than a simple human, you would have found a way to kill Soldier Boy already. 

“Ow!” you hissed in pain.

“Sorry, Y/N,” MM mumbled, finishing up an improvised bandage on your waist. “Got a very bad wound.”

When Hughie and Kimiko left, you started to look up for Butcher and the rest, and it wasn’t until MM saw you that he noticed you were bleeding. There was a deep cut on one side of your abdomen, a horrendous one, and you felt nothing, only after he pointed out. You were able to walk just fine to the back seat of the car with MM’s help, Soldier Boy joined Butcher on the front, both men in complete silence.

“It’s fine,” you answered. “Where’s Hughie?”

“Kimiko took him to Frenchie’s van, they should be home already,” the man said, cleaning the blood from his hands with a cloth. “I’m really surprised you didn’t feel anything.”

You flinched a little, avoiding his worried eyes. “Yeah… I get to ignore pain easily.”

The whole journey back to the building, you didn’t feel a single hitch of discomfort. Most likely because your mind was far away from your reality. From your seat, the only thing you could think of was Soldier Boy and his reckless stupidity. Nothing would’ve made you feel better than to cut his throat. Too sad it wasn’t like you could. Your eyes never moved from him. He looked as calm as ever, like if he didn’t fuck it up. Like Hughie and you were nothing. Soldier Boy treated all of your team like fucking trash. And probably everyone else was getting used to it, but not you. You could not let him step over you.

With a small limp, you made it to the building and entered the place now you called home. The walls were too small, making you feel imprisoned inside. Every day was a living hell, but that special night was the worst of them all. Butcher and Soldier Boy led the way, and you bumped into them to surpass their slow strides until you stopped in front of Hughie’s door. Annie walked out before you could knock.

“How’s he doing?”

Annie’s eyes widened. She was taken aback.

“He’s resting,” the blonde said, closing the door behind her.

You could only get a small picture of Hughie lying down on the bed, sound asleep. For some reason, you felt a liability on your shoulders. Maybe you could’ve done something. Anything. If you just acted when the rumble started and before it all happened, he wouldn’t be there.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Annie reassured, placing a hand on your arm. You looked at her and she gave you a soothing smile and continued. “Hughie’s very strong, you know that.”

God, you should be the one comforting her. She was his girlfriend after all, she was supposed to be the one fucking worried for him. In the end, you were just a friend. A very good friend he trusted a lot, according to his words. But the time you spent with him at Supe Affairs was more than enough to feel things you shouldn’t. It was so wrong recalling your own unrequited feelings being in front of Annie after her boyfriend almost died.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I have to go, need some medicine and painkillers for Hughie,” her words interrupted your thoughts.

All you could do was nod and you followed Annie with your gaze as she crossed the place between the three men standing still in the middle of the living room. She suddenly paused and let her gaze fall directly at Butcher.

“We’ll talk later,” she warned through her teeth, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The blonde continued her way to the front door, not before laying her burning eyes on Soldier Boy. The lights flickered up for a moment as she stopped on her tracks to look at him and in a second, she disappeared and closed the door with a loud thud. You were only able to see her back, but you knew better. She was angry.

And you’ve seen Starlight pissed off before, why wasn’t she doing more than giving them both a warning? Butcher was an idiot and Soldier Boy was a fucking terrorist supe under an uncapable asshole as a leader. The only sane fucker between them was MM, but even he wasn’t doing shit either. Kimiko and Frenchie were probably now locked up together. Did nobody fucking care? That was the moment where your guilt turned into pure rage. Your feet started moving on their own and hot blood erupted on your veins, your gaze on Soldier Boy as words blurted out.

“You stupid motherfucker! You’re a fucking monster!”

“Oi!” Butcher’s voice boomed over yours.

You felt strong hands grabbing your arms, forcing you to stop only a couple of inches away from Soldier Boy, not allowing you to go further.

“We almost die because of you, fucking asshole!”

“Hey, Y/N! Calm down!” MM shouted on your back, holding you in place.

“Let me go!” you yelled, squirming and trying to release yourself. “We almost got compromised because of this bastard!” you screamed to MM and quickly your gaze turned to Soldier Boy. “Don’t you know how to fucking control yourself, you stupid fuckface?!”

The supe seemed unimpressed at your poor attempts, his flickering eyes looking down at you with a straight face that you couldn’t really describe. Just like all of him. He always seemed to not fucking care. And at that moment, what else could you do? Slap him to death? You were nothing compared to him.

You hissed as MM held you tight, his strength wasn’t letting you go further and the wound on your abdomen became too painful to bear.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

“C’mon, I need to stitch your wound,” MM tried to persuade you, pulling you backwards.

You shot a last angry glare at Soldier Boy. “I so fucking hate you!”

As you spilled your words, the supe just smiled mischievously. “Get in line, sweetheart, a lot of people are waiting for a shot.”

 You forced yourself to calm down before letting MM take you away to help with the cut. You kept cursing under your breath until you disappeared inside the room under Ben’s playful gaze and Butcher’s equally pissed and concerned eyes.

“You gotta be fucking kidding, mate,” Butcher commented, watching him strolling inside the living.

Soldier Boy placed his shield on the couch before he paced around the kitchen, opening and closing various cabinets until he took out a bottle and a glass that he used to serve himself a drink. He took a sip, letting the sweet liquid burn down his throat. “We have what you fucking wanted, we’re alive… Well, twink’s half alive. But besides that, you’re all so damn welcome.”

“Yeah, you could’ve held up a bit,” Butcher tried reasoning with him. “But they were so fucking close to you.”

“Then you should tell those fuckers in the lab to stop playing their fucking russian music, I can’t stand it,” he hissed, swallowing the last bit of whiskey. Butcher gave him a stern look. “Look, they’re dead. You have your info, the stupid tubes, and I just stopped them from creating more terrorists by killing them.”

Butcher grimaced, knowing it was pointless to argue with the old man. “Just be careful with my boys,” he voiced out and he walked to your door, knocking two times before opening it and getting inside.

He was greeted with your whining as MM finished the last stitch on your wound.

“How you doin’?” the British man asked.

“Not so good,” you hissed, taking the glass of water from MM’s hands with a soft ‘thanks’. “I want to fucking punch his nose.”

“About that, I’ll give him a chat.”

You scoffed. “Can we stop bringing him into this? Hughie almost died. And next it might be me, or MM, or you, but sometimes I doubt you fucking care.”

“Stop right there,” Butcher sternly said. “Of course I fucking care.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Just for props,” he answered, but you were definitely starting to doubt it inside.

And you knew MM was feeling the same. The difference between you and him is that you were reckless, and you didn’t really were the one putting the stupid team together. If anything, you would put yourself first. Maybe Hughie. But that’s another story. You let out a deep sigh, turning your attention to Butcher.

“Alright, I’m tired, please just go. I’ll kick his balls tomorrow.”

“Found another lead,” you announced. “Sending coordinates right now.”

Frenchie, who stayed by your side working on his own laptop, smiled at you. “Perfect, ma dame.”

“Should be around 15 miles away from here; trucks have been getting there with more V according to the last security camera,” you said, standing up from your seat at the dining table with a painful grimace on your face as you approached the fridge for some cold water. “Butcher can let us know when we should attack.”

“No need, I think we can do that in the next three days. Besides I still have some ammo,” Frenchie informed you.

“That’s good news I guess,” you replied back, with half a smile as you looked around when the main door opened.

Butcher and Ben entered the place, and your mood was down again. It was barely noon and you had already taken the stupid jokes coming from the old fucker a couple of hours ago. When Butcher announced he was leaving, taking Ben along with him, you sighed with relief. Pity that peaceful time wasn’t enough for you to recover. Sure it was not plenty of time for you to forgive and forget how a piece of crap he was, and how fucking horrible your wound hurted the few hours you got to try and sleep each night. Two days after your last mission, the pain on your abdomen hadn’t been lesser, and the fact that Hughie was still inside his room sleeping and resting, accompanied by Annie just made it worse, reminding you of the amount of hatred you had grown for him. As you finished your bottle of water resting against the kitchen counter, Ben approached, leaving a paper bag on top. You watched Butcher and Frenchie talking about the next lab target from afar.

“How’s your wound doing?”

Soldier Boy’s question made your eyes fall on him, frowning your brows.

“Are you asking ‘cause you care?”

He smirked. “I don’t need liability, that’s why I’m fucking asking. I know the twink is not doing so well though.”

“Fuck off.”

Soldier Boy rolled his eyes as your gaze focused again in Frenchie on the dining table, folding your arms on your chest.

“You really have no idea of what triggers my blasts, do you,” Ben said.

“No. And if you won’t tell me that you will control your shit, then I don’t fucking want to keep talking to you.”

He scoffed, with that stupid, haughty smile of his. You noticed he got closer to you, as he started to speak. “Right, and I might have to remind you that you’re alive and breathing.”

Anger raised again and you forced yourself to keep it cool, just because you didn’t want to make an act. After all, you couldn’t really control it. Butcher already scolded you for it the day before, like if you were a damn kid. MM also talked to you about it. You were ready to throw a knife to Soldier Boy last night right during last dinner, even if you knew it wouldn’t do anything to him. He was such an annoying douchebag and probably deserved more of what happened to him back in Russia.

“Listen, if it was on me, I’d already cut off your dick and shoved it down your throat until you choked on it,” you blurted out in a whisper, holding his eyes.

He tried to lean to get closer to your ear, but you stepped back. And even with that, the distance was too short for your comfort when he whispered back.

“Sugar, I still need my dick. Maybe you’d like a taste.”

“You’re so fucking gross,” you snapped. “And you could’ve gotten us killed!”

“Is this really about you or… Hughie back there?” he teased. “Because trust me, I thought Butcher was sucking him off all this time if it wasn’t for Starlight. Or you.”

And then, everything happened so fast that you didn’t know that your fist met his cheek.

The door closed behind Butcher’s back as you entered the room first, turning on your heels to face him.

“Now, remind me why I am here and he isn’t,” you inquired.

He approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You could already feel the sermon coming out of his mouth. Butcher seemed to forget Soldier Boy was the one starting to bother you and being an idiot since he arrived, and the tension was palpable but nobody seemed to care. That or they were pretty good at hiding it. Of course the only thing Butcher cared about right now was taking down those labs to sabotage Homelander and Victoria’s campaign, not how well you’ll mix with everyone on his team.

“Just a couple of fucking missions, Y/N,” he started, and you noticed he tried to use a calm tone of voice on you. “I know you’re not particularly fond of him, but we don’t need another unpredictable reckless asshole in our team, now do we?”

“Me? Reckless? I’m not the one putting everyone in danger because I can’t control myself!” you shouted, and watched as Butcher doubted his next words. Instead, he pulled his hand off from your shoulder and straightened himself. “I’m wounded, but Hughie had the worst part and you still scold me for being mad at Soldier Boy for that. Are you gonna do something when it’s your turn to be blasted by that piece of shit?”

He took one of his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I fucking know that. We need him to take the labs down. Can you behave while we do that?” he asked, looking right into your eyes.

“How much time?”

“I don’t have—”

“How much fucking time?”

Butcher scoffed. “A month, or two. Maybe more. I don’t exactly have a number to tell ya.”

You rolled your eyes. “Your chat with him was for nothing, dickhead. He’s still out there, being an asshole. And honestly, he deserves more than a punch, and you know that.”

You were ready to leave, passing by his side when his hand wrapped on your forearm, stopping you in your tracks.

“He’s being watched by the CIA, they put a tracker under his skin. Once we’re done, he'll be put to sleep again,” Butcher informed. His words made you look back at him.

“You better make it happen.”

Soldier Boy taglist: @delaynew @k-silla

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@mostlymarvelgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

[murmuringbug]

Ahh, my favorite pastime. Analyzing characters and figuring out how people work.

(Obligatory this is all characters, I just didn't wanna put a q in front of all the names :3)

I really do try to see everyone's side, and I do not think anyone here is necessarily in the wrong.  Nothing is black and white of course, but I wanted to specifically focus on bads pov here. I think alot of people kinda forget all the lore leading up to this point. Especially anyone who wasn't here.

Bad is a very tragic character and his lore has kinda been put on hold since everything that has happened.

But if we are to assume we are picking up about where we last left off, bad doesn't remember lullah. (In fact he doesn't really remember anyone on the island). Only the interactions hes had with them after he got back. He found out that hes a special person in lullah's life a little bit after he got back but he cant reciprocate those feelings. He just doesn't know her. But all the while He is being forced into this position where lullah needs old bad but old bad literally physicaly died.

Heres this guy who just woke up from being dead stressed and alone. Finding out hes trapped on an island and missing his best friend. Being thrusted into the roll of tio. He said to foolish that he doesn't think he could be a parent and that being a tio was stressful enough so its not like this is an easy roll for him to fit into.

So he has this expectation that he is being held too which is pretty unrealistic. Let alone that fact that he simply now doesn't know how to deal with children, it's not a skill he has anymore.

Then, with pomme and dapper being gone the only egg he has even gotten close to after he died is richas. Then combine that with his very clingy personality. No wonder he plays favorites.

Not to mention alot of his issues with communication and such are very autistic/adhd coded. I feel like so many people aren't really agnologing that. <_<

But now from lullah and richas's perspective it's also awful.

They are still  literal children who has gone through so much.

Im not a philza watcher so I dont know lullah alot but we can kinda tell Lullah has issues with abandonment, and she has already lost bad once before. She wants the tio bad back she knew the one who she has spent so much time with and has known her whole eggie life. But he isn't going to be back anytime soon. She probably wants some sort of consistency. Let alone the fact emotions are a difficult thing to begin with.

its a difficult situation for everyone involved. And its understandable to feel upset because that's what stories do! A good story should make you feel emotions but if you are angry, or sad at the actual people you need to take a step back for your own well being. <3

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PEREGRINE // THREE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You spend the night at May and Reo’s, and then you go to visit your parents.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.0k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: literally twitching every time i have to write a chapter and nagi is just not in it LMAOAOA also l/n family slander is always acceptable here #iykyk

divider credits: @/benkeibear

“When do you plan on going to see your parents?” Reo said. You, May, and him were hanging out in their enormous kitchen as rain poured down outside, hammering against the windows and roof. The storm made you feel nostalgic, and you sighed wistfully as you watched the deluge.

“Probably tomorrow,” you said. “I just want to get it over with. Even without having the conversation, I know how it’s going to go. It’ll be the same as the usual, so there’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”

That probably didn’t mean much to either of the two, considering you had never divulged much to them. You had never been able to tell anyone about the details of your relationship with your parents — it was something secret and rotten that you held close to your chest, a hatred which festered in your stomach and cowered from the light, and you could not bear for anyone to see you like that.

“Do you want us to come?” May said. Although Reo had known you longer, May had always been the more perceptive between the two of them, had always been more in-tune with emotions — both her own and others’ — than anyone you had ever met.

“No, it’s okay,” you said. The last thing you needed was for your parents to see Reo, especially with his own fiancée. It would be the worst outcome, and when the situation was already bound to be so fraught, there was no sense in adding fuel to the fire.

“We’ll drop you off whenever, though,” Reo said. “That’s a promise.”

“No way,” you said. “You guys should be relaxing. The whole reason I came over early was to make things easier for you two during your wedding! I’m not about to cause extra problems. We’ll take the taxi, and then afterwards, I’ll look for wedding dress boutiques so we can book an appointment. We should probably get that over with soon, just in case it takes them time to get the fit altered.”

“If you mention my name, it’ll be finished in seconds,” Reo said dismissively. “Don’t worry about dumb stuff like that.”

“No need to brag,” you said, elbowing him in the side teasingly. “We should give them enough time to make sure the work is of the highest quality. Besides, we have to begin planning somewhere, don’t we? Might as well start with this.”

“But that’s another thing I can’t do with you guys,” he said. You could not help yourself from chuckling at the way he pouted, his eyes swimming with melodramatic tears.

“You’re seriously clingy,” you said.

“Once we’ve picked my dress, you can come help us choose the rest of the wedding party’s clothes,” May offered. “I don’t think there’s any superstition around that, is there?”

“No, it’s just that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride’s dress until the wedding,” you said. “Everything else is alright. We can probably get the dresses and suits from the same shop, too, so we can kill two birds with one stone. Great idea, May!”

“Thanks,” May said.

“Just tell me when, and I’ll make sure Nagi is free — don’t look at me like that! You knew he was going to be the best man before accepting the maid of honor position. I warned you!” Reo said.

“I know, but I just…I mean, do you think he’s going to offer any valuable insight? Beyond saying something like ‘oh, this suit is less of a pain than that one,’” you said, pitching your voice deeper to mimic Nagi’s low, mild voice.

“He’s going to have to wear it, so his opinion is kind of relevant,” Reo said.

“What happened between you guys while we were gone, anyways?” May said. “It was pretty normal when we left, besides Kira making things kind of awkward, but after we got back from dropping him off, there was a really weird atmosphere. Did you guys talk about something?”

“Nothing in particular,” you said.

“That still means you talked,” Reo said. “May’s right. I thought you said you weren’t going to let the past impact the present, so what was that tense vibe all about?”

“I wasn’t going to,” you said. “He’s the one that brought it up!”

“Brought what up?” May said keenly. You gulped, suddenly feeling like you had walked into some kind of trap, though judging by Reo’s clueless expression, it was one that he, too, was unaware of.

“Um, just, our old animosity,” you said.

“He never disliked you, though,” Reo said. “I don’t know why he’d bring it up when he didn’t even have a problem in the first place.”

May laughed. “You hated someone who didn’t hate you back? So out of character, Y/N. What was the reason?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. “If you must know, things were weird because neither of us knew what to discuss without you there, Reo. We don’t have that much in common. The only things are being friends with you and going to the same high school.”

“That does make sense,” Reo said. “If I swear I won’t leave you two alone again, will you be less annoyed about him coming along?”

“If that’s the best deal I’m getting, then yes, I suppose so,” you said, even though a part of you wanted to be alone with Nagi for as long as possible. You knew, though, that it was better if you weren’t. Just the thought of Ryosuke’s face was enough to convince you that this was the only path forward, or, if nothing else, the simplest.

“Consider it done,” Reo said. “Are you sleeping in the guest room tonight?”

“If you don’t mind,” you said, directing the question to both him and May alike.

“It doesn’t bother us,” he said.

“We wouldn’t have let you come over if it was an issue,” May agreed with a yawn. Even though you weren’t that tired, you knew it was late, and unlike you, they had not slept half of the day away. You wanted to keep them up, to talk to them until your throat was dry, but it would be unkind, so you pretended to yawn as well.

“We should probably get to bed, then,” you said.

“Are you sure?” Reo said. “We can stay up a little longer if you’d like.”

“Yup, we can,” May said. You smiled but shook your head.

“No, I’m really tired. I’m just going to call Chigiri so I can see how Sora is doing, and then I’ll probably sleep myself,” you said.

“Okay, if that’s how you feel,” Reo said, beckoning you after him. “I’ll show you where everything is, and you can do what you need to. But be up for breakfast, alright? I’m calling one of my chefs to cook something for us, and if you miss it, I’ll be really angry.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“I don’t have to do a lot of things, but I do them anyways. Do you know why? It’s because I can,” he said. “So I will.”

“Honestly,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re such a show-off.”

“I have to look impressive for you,” he said.

“Aren’t we past that point now?” you said, thinking back to his ridiculous antics from high school. “I agreed to be your friend a while back.”

“Old habits die hard,” he said, shrugging and sticking his tongue out at you cheekily. You did the same back.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “Whatever, rich boy. I’ll be up.”

“Good,” he said, patting you on the head. “Sleep well, Y/N.”

“The same to you, Reo,” you said. “Tell May, too.”

“She’ll probably be over to wish you herself,” he said.

“I’ll stay up until she does, then,” you said.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “See you in the morning.”

“See you.”

The familiar motions of getting ready for the night were the same no matter where you went, serving as a backdrop for your thoughts, which even now had not settled.

It had been worse than you had expected. Seeing Nagi again, being so close to him after all of this time…you thought you could handle it, but you couldn’t. You thought that by finding him again, you could reaffirm your decisions, but the only thing he had done was throw everything into a muddle. As always. Why had you expected anything different?

The rain had not abated by the time you crawled under your sheets and scrolled through your list of contacts, searching for the one you wanted. You wished it would stop. The rain meant something different to you, and for that reason, you wanted it to go away, but the weather was ignorant to your desires, and so it continued to pour.

“Hey, Y/N. Calling already?” The screen only showed the top half of Chigiri’s face; most of it was dominated by the white of his ceiling and the whirring blades of his fan. He blinked his pretty eyes at you, obviously curious about what you needed. “Is everything okay?”

“Is Sora doing alright?” you said. The camera switched to show Chigiri’s lap, which was dominated by your large white cat, who was purring to herself as he pet her.

“We’re watching TV together,” he said. “I think she likes this show.”

“Sora,” you said, your voice shaking. “Are you being perfect for Chigiri?”

“Yes, I am,” Chigiri said, doing an admittedly excellent impression of a little girl. “That was Sora, by the way. Not me.”

You sniffed. “That’s good.”

“Seriously, is something up? You’re acting a little bit freaky,” he said, the camera flipping back to its original position, though he now held it at an angle where you could see his entire face.

You hugged a pillow to your chest, resting your chin atop it when you spoke. “I don’t know.”

“Do you wanna talk about it, or is this one of those moments where I’m supposed to distract you by talking about dumb bullshit?” he said.

“The second option,” you said. You didn’t want to talk to Chigiri about it. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, because no one could ever know, and besides, talking about it would make it real. It would mean that you had acknowledged it, and by breathing life into something so nebulous, you ran the risk of it taking on a tangible form that would jam down your throat and wrap around your joints, halting you from moving forward as you ought to.

“Okay. Um, I went for a walk today,” he said. “It was really nice out. I wanted to run, but I decided it was probably better that I didn’t. My neighbor’s garden is flourishing — you know, he doesn’t really seem like the type to be into flower-growing, but it looks nice. Lots of roses, which is surprising, considering the whole muscle-head aesthetic he has going on. Maybe I should try to be nicer to him.”

You giggled despite yourself. “Is this the one with the orange hair who helped me carry your groceries in when you were sick? He seemed like a good person. You should be nicer to him.”

“Yes, that one. It’s not like I’m mean or anything! I just prefer minding my own business,” he said.

“If you say so,” you said. “I am surprised he’s into growing roses and flowers and whatnot, though. I would’ve thought he was exclusively into making protein powder shakes.”

”That’s what I’m saying!” he said. “I suppose everyone has many sides to them.”

“Hm,” you said. “Say, Chigiri. Can I ask you a bit of a random question?”

“If I say no, you’re going to ask anyways, aren’t you?” he said dryly.

“Yeah,” you said.

“Then what was the point of checking first?” he said.

“I knew you’d say yes,” you said. He flushed at the way you had read him so well.

“Okay, okay. What is it?” he said.

“Do you know much about Japanese soccer?” you said.

“Obviously?” he said. “Why’d you even ask that? It’s kind of a given, you know.”

“It was just a prelude. There’s a player — former player — that I was wondering if you had any thoughts on,” you said.

“Which one? If you say Kira, I’m killing you,” he said.

“No, not him. Um, Seishiro Nagi?” you said.

Chigiri raised his eyebrows. “That’s unexpected.”

“What is?” you said.

“You being interested in a player like that,” he said. “He’s Reo’s best man, isn’t he? Why don’t you ask him yourself? You guys must’ve gone to high school together.”

“I want to hear what you think,” you said. “That’s why I’m going to you. Idiot.”

“I’m flattered. Well, keep in mind that this isn’t a professional evaluation or anything; I’ve never even met him, and anyways, I’m just a failed player myself, so I’m hardly qualified to give my opinion on anything,” he said.

“That’s not true, Chigiri,” you protested.

“It is. It’s okay; there’s no need to fight about it. That’s not what we’re talking about. My thoughts on Seishiro Nagi…he was talented, and that’s a fact. If I remember correctly, they used to call him the falcon of the field, right?” he said.

“Yes, I think that’s what it was,” you said.

“He was almost unbeatable. Sure, he had a few losses, especially earlier on in his career, but for the most part, facing off against him was like a death sentence for any team that had that misfortune. A combination of unorthodox thinking and unbelievable physicality made him a genuine threat,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “I knew all of that already, though.”

“Jeez, never satisfied, huh? It’s not like I know him personally, and I was already in college by the time he started really getting big. That’s about the extent of it,” he said. “If I remember, one of my high school friends had a sister who was a fan of his for a bit, but she got over it pretty quickly, since he never went on social media or anything. Guess it’s difficult to have a parasocial relationship with someone so private.”

“Even in high school, he was that kind of guy,” you said, unable to stop yourself from grinning affectionately, though you pushed it back before Chigiri could notice. “No one knew the first thing about him. He was such a mystery.”

“Some people are into that lifestyle, I suppose,” he said. You hummed.

“Guess so,” you said.

“I don’t really know much else, Y/N, I’m sorry. You’re going to have to talk to him if you want more,” he said. Scoffing, you shook your head resolutely.

“It was just a typical curiosity,” you said. “I don’t need more than that. Thanks, Chigiri.”

“Anything for you,” he said.

“You’re making me blush,” you deadpanned.

“It’s only because your cat’s so cute,” he said. “Mind if I keep her?”

“In your dreams,” you said. “Speaking of which, I should get to bed. Talk to you later.”

“Later.”

Only a few moments elapsed between Chigiri hanging up and May knocking on your door. You knew it was her because she was light and hesitant instead of firm and sharp, the way Reo would’ve been, and also because she announced herself shortly after.

“Come in!” you said, pulling your blanket up around your shoulders.

“Are you still talking with Chigiri?” she said, flopping down on the foot of the bed.

“Obviously not,” you said, nodding towards the blank screen of your phone. “I wouldn’t have told you you could come in if I was.”

“That’s true,” she said.

“What did you need to ask?” you said. There were never any secrets between you and May. It was impossible to lie to her when you had lived together with her for years, and conversely, she could never hide her true intentions from you.

“Nothing in particular,” she said. “Just…are you sure you’re going to be okay with this whole maid of honor thing? It seems like there’s way more to your history with Nagi than I realized. If you’re uncomfortable with it, then we can figure something else out.”

“No!” you said, too quickly for it to have been a natural reaction. “No, it’s okay. We’re okay. It was just really sudden today, that’s all. I wasn’t prepared to see him again. Please, I told this to Reo and I’ll say it to you too: don’t worry about me. Your wedding is the only thing you should be thinking about, and even that shouldn’t be a cause of anxiety. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay, but you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to be more stressed in my place or anything,” she said slowly. “If it’s a problem, you have to tell me immediately. Reo can pay someone else to be his best man, so it’s not a huge issue.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to him,” you said. “He’s been friends with Nagi for almost as long as he’s known me. I don’t want my own issues to ruin his wedding. Really, May, thank you for the concern, but there’s not a problem at all, and even if there is, I’ll handle it.”

You mimed hitting the air, and she snorted, shaking her head condescendingly.

“What, you gonna fistfight Nagi if he bothers you too much or something?” she said.

“Yeah. You don’t think I can win?” you said.

“I mean, considering he was a professional athlete until a few years ago and you’re…you,” she said. “No.”

“You should have more faith in me,” you said. “I can totally take him on. Bam! He won’t know what hit him.”

You punched your pillow for emphasis, which drew a giggle out of her. Taking the pillow from you, she fluffed it up again before handing it back so you could lay against it.

“I’ll bet on you, then, so you had better win, or else Reo won’t let me hear the end of it for a week or more,” she said. You flexed your biceps.

“You can count on me,” you said.

“On a more serious note, though, and now that Reo’s not around, will you tell me the truth about what Nagi brought up? I know you were lying earlier, but I figured you just didn’t want to make Reo feel bad. I’m sure it must be strange for him, having his two best friends dislike each other,” she said.

You had no interest in lying to her, but you also could not tell her the entire truth, so you decided to go with a version of it all.

“The past,” you said. “I don’t know if Reo’s mentioned it, but we had a very complicated relationship back then.”

“He never elaborated, though, to be fair, I don’t think he really understood it well enough in the first place. He just said that you seemed to really hate Nagi when you all went to school together, but you never told him why,” she said.

“I was embarrassed,” you said with a shrug. “It was an embarrassing reason, and not one that a person like Reo could ever understand, so I kept it to myself. Nagi never really had any friends, bar Reo of course, so no one ever thought any less of me for it.”

“Embarrassing?” she said, and then an idea dawned her, her expression morphing into one of pure horror. “If that overgrown q-tip of a man hurt you at some point, then I don’t care about Reo’s feelings. He’s out of the wedding!”

“Overgrown — what? What are you talking about?” you said.

“You said that it was an embarrassing reason that Reo could never understand,” she said. “What would be more embarrassing than you getting rejected by Nagi of all people? And I doubt Reo’s ever been rejected in his life, unfortunately, so he definitely wouldn’t comprehend that sort of feeling. If it’s the case, then just let me know and I’ll sort things out! Reo has other friends now, so he can just have one of them be his best man. Or there’s always the paid route, like I mentioned earlier.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said. “Also, there’s no way Reo has other friends, so please don’t lie for my sake.”

“No, he does. If you don’t believe me, just wait for the wedding — you’ll meet them there. At the least, he can always get Chigiri to do it,” she said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Anyways, though, it’s fine. You missed the mark this time, I’m afraid.”

“Oh. Then what was it?” she said. You smiled ruefully and shook your head.

“You wouldn’t understand, either, you know? So it’s okay. Enough of this; he knows better than to bring it up again, and I know better than to end up alone with him again,” you said.

She really was the loyal sort. It was evident in the way she hesitated before nodding, standing up with a furrow to her brow and a pensive twist to her mouth as she headed to the door.

“Y/N,” she said. “Like I said, the instant he pulls something, you tell me, alright? Before you get in a fistfight or anything ridiculous like that, come to me.”

“Got it,” you said. “I’ll remember that. Goodnight, May.”

“Goodnight.”

You wondered when it had come to be that you felt more uncomfortable with your own fiancé than anyone else. Yet it remained that being shoved in a taxi with him on the way to your childhood home was the oddest sensation you had experienced in so long that you found yourself once again longing for the days when it had been simpler, when you and him had gotten along in an easy way.

“Did you have a nice time at May and Reo’s?” Ryosuke said.

“I did,” you said. “Reo made one of his chefs come to serve us breakfast, so it was delicious.”

“It’s a good thing he’s about to be married, or I’d be jealous,” Ryosuke said. “How can a normal guy like me compete with that?”

“Stop,” you said. “He loves May. There’s no competition, and don’t say anything like that in front of my parents.”

“What?” he said in alarm. “Are there rules to this meeting? I was just planning on winging it!”

You held back the urge to groan. He could not be blamed; like Reo and May, he didn’t know what it meant for you to see your parents again, not fully. Why would he expect anything other than a normal meal at their place? But your parents weren’t that type, and if he just waltzed in and expected them to love him based on nothing but your fondness for him, then he was mistaken.

The home you had grown up in had not changed a bit in your absence. The same flowers still bloomed alongside the concrete path leading to the front door, and the bushes were still the exact emerald shade they had been on the day you had left. Foreboding crept in you as you ascended the stairs and pressed on the button for the doorbell, and you reached behind you to grab Ryosuke’s hand as footsteps approached the foyer.

“Mother,” you said when the door swung open, revealing a pair who, too, had not changed from the images of them which you held in your memories. “Father. It’s been a while.”

Your mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, and your father clenched his jaw as he regarded you and Ryosuke. For a brief moment, you thought that he would turn the two of you away, but he only glared at you for a second longer before motioning for you both to come in.

“Y/N,” your mother said. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Did you think I’d miss the wedding?” you said.

“Wedding?” your father said.

“No need to play innocent,” you said, marveling at the nooks and crannies you had once known so intimately. “You know whose wedding I speak of.”

“It should’ve been yours,” your mother said.

“If things had gone the way you wanted, it would’ve been mine,” you agreed. “But they didn’t, and it’s not. It’s Reo and May’s.”

“There’s still time,” your father said. “They aren’t married yet. You could still—”

“When will you give up?” you said, cutting him off, squeezing Ryosuke’s hand — as much for his reassurance as your own. “I flew halfway across the world to escape you and your demands, and the first thing you do upon my return is make more? It’s shameless, father.”

“Why are you back here?” your mother said, presenting a tray filled with tea and biscuits to the two of you. You wavered before allowing yourself to pick up one of the cups, dipping a biscuit in it and chewing on it. The flavor reminded you of your childhood, immediately transporting you to the days when you had not despised your life so thoroughly and extremely. “You made your feelings quite clear when you left, so what brings you back?”

“He wanted to meet you,” you said. “Ryosuke Kira. My fiancé.”

“Hello, sir, madam,” Ryosuke said, bowing his head politely. You had to give him that — he was good at acting, and in this situation, it was a helpful attribute. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“You seriously chose him over Reo Mikage?” your father said bluntly. “That’s a decision no one in their right mind would make.”

“Enough about Reo,” you hissed between your teeth before smiling tightly, your nails digging into the back of Ryosuke’s hand. “We aren’t here to go over that same argument. Aren’t you going to congratulate me? Your only daughter is getting married.”

“Does he have a house of his own?” your mother said.

“Yes,” you said.

“A job with a good income?” your father said.

“Well above average,” you said. “It’s secure, too.”

“Then it’s good enough,” your mother said, stiffly, insincerely. “He’s no corporate heir, but he’s a serviceable consolation prize. Congratulations, Y/N. You’ve done better for yourself than we expected.”

They didn’t ask if you loved him, or if he loved you in return, but why would they? It was unimportant. When it came to relationships and marriages, such fickle concepts as love could not be relied upon. It was the ideal that they had pounded into you from a young age: stability. Safety. It was easier to learn to love someone than it was to live a life without certainty. It was easier for you to pretend to be unaware of Ryosuke’s dalliances than it was for you to let go and live the rest of your life alone.

“I don’t think your parents liked me,” Ryosuke confessed upon entering the taxi you had called to take you back.

“Don’t take it personally,” you said. “They’re just upset that things didn’t go according to their carefully laid plans. It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting them to be happy, anyways. That went better than I anticipated, all things considered.”

“What plans?” Ryosuke said as the driver took off towards your hotel. Ryosuke would get down there, and you would continue on to the dress fitting appointment that Reo had somehow already managed to book before you had even woken up.

You weighed the merits of telling him, but came to the conclusion that it would only make things more difficult for you.

“Plans that never had a chance of success in the first place,” you said. “That’s the long and short of it. Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure,” he said. “What style of dress is May thinking of getting for the wedding party?”

“She mentioned wanting me to have a different dress than the rest of the bridesmaids, since I’m the maid of honor,” you said. “I think she wants it to be my choice.”

“How considerate of her,” Ryosuke said. “She really is such a sweet girl. And so pretty, too! She’ll make a beautiful bride.”

You thought back to what Nagi had said at dinner, your face souring as his cool, snarky tone rang in your mind. It looked like he wanted that waitress, too. And that hostess. And May. But I don’t think he’d go after her, because, y’know, Reo would be pretty mad, and he can definitely afford a better lawyer than Kira can if it comes down to it…

“Reo is lucky,” you said, though all you wanted to do was grab his face and demand he look at you. Aren’t I beautiful, too? Aren’t I sweet, too? You wanted to scream these things at him, but you feared that the answers were not ones you’d prefer, so you remained silent.

“I bet you’ll look great, too,” he said. “Make sure you pick something flattering. I want everyone to see just how amazing my fiancée is.”

“I would’ve done that regardless,” you said.

“Maybe you should FaceTime Chigiri and ask for his advice! We all know how well he can pull off a dress,” he said, snickering.

“That happened once, and you need to stop bringing it up. It wasn’t even his choice,” you said, though you could not suppress a laugh at the memory of the time that you and May had forced Chigiri into a dress so that you could sneak him into a Halloween party with you.

“As you wish,” he said. “Looks like this is my stop. Text me when you’re on the way back!”

“Okay,” you said. “Wait. Ryosuke.”

“What’s up?” he said.

“Can I, uh, send you pictures? Of my options? So you can help me choose?” you said, hating how uncertain your voice sounded, the cracking hinting at your true meaning — tell me. Tell me what I will look worthy of you in. Tell me what it is you want from me.

“Can’t you just pick on your own?” he said. “I was planning on taking a nap and then going to eat. I won’t really have time. Ask May or Reo if you’re stuck.”

It had been a foolish idea to begin with, and as the taxi you were in accelerated away from him, you cursed yourself for even trying. After all, if a simple dress would’ve been enough for your fiancé’s eyes to remain on you, then they never would’ve strayed in the first place.

taglist (comment/send an ask to be added): @mariyumemi @naatggeo @prettyarsxnist @noble-17 @rinitoshisgirl @stuckindreamland06

[tunaababee]

we will be everything we say - Chapter 6

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 3.5k // updates Mondays (aest)

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: TW for mentions of parental death and abusive behaviours. if you're unable to handle that right now and would like a chapter summary, head to AO3 and look at the chapter's end notes! please look after yourself.

Chapter 6: twenty-three and twenty-four

Tension lingered in the air like a heavy fog, accompanying the grey clouds overhead that helped set the incredibly morose atmosphere. It was fitting, considering what was happening today.

Feyre sat with her sisters, side by side, in the front row of the funeral home. It was a small, simple service - their father had never been a very outgoing man, and it had only gotten worse after their mother had died. Elain had been the one to handle all of the correspondence with the florist, a blend of tulips, carnations, and baby’s breath all stark white in large bunches over the casket. Elain barely looked like herself, with the long-sleeved black dress seeming to drain her of life so much so that she seemed to rival the lifeless body of their father in the coffin at the front of the room. It didn’t help that Elain probably took his passing the hardest. Nesta, on the other hand, looked like she was in her element. Cold, sharp, all angles and precision. Her outfit looked like she was ready to go to a board meeting or an interview, all practicality and projecting that strong visage she held so deeply on to. Both sisters knew there were a lot of complicated feelings towards their father that were simmering just barely underneath the surface of that tailored coat and her a-line skirt, but nobody dared speak it. They just wanted to get through today and put it behind them. The three of them could unpack their own baggage at a later date.

Today Feyre was nervous for a couple of reasons - she’d never been very good at public speaking, and yet she was the one who was giving the eulogy. She heard the funeral officiant say her name, rising from her seat and moving to the front of the room like a ghost of herself, hands shaking slightly. Her hands smoothed out her dress anxiously, fingers moving to fiddle with the oversized sleeves of her long cardigan before she gripped the cistern. Her eulogy was true, but simple - he was a caring husband, a father who loved his daughters, a man who never quite recovered from his demons. The details of what she wrote were merely a haze in her mind as she read it off of the paper she had prepared. But that wasn’t the main reason she was nervous.

What really made her nervous today was the pair of piercing violet eyes looking straight at her from the very back of the room, feeling as if they were piercing her right in the gut.

He had shown up. She had been the one to invite him, after all, but she’d be lying if she said a part of her hadn’t wanted him to come simply to avoid having to talk to him at all. How do you pick back up where you left off with your best friend when you hadn’t talked to them in two years?

She already had to pace the apartment for an hour or so as she tried to send the text to him in the first place to let him know, to get the wording and the tone right, to hope to every god known to man that he still had the same number. To hope that he would come at all. She kept it clinical, at the end of the day.

“Hi there, Rhysand. I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to let you know that my dad passed away a few days ago.

The funeral is next week to the day at 11:00am if you’d like to attend and pay your respects. Prythian Funeral Home.

I hope you’re well.”

It was anxiety-inducing enough to have sent the text in the first place that she hadn’t even bothered to see if Rhys had replied. Instead, Feyre threw herself into funeral preparations - inviting all of her and her sisters’ close friends who had known him and any of his previous business associates he had left. It didn’t fill the room, but it made it feel less pathetic than just the three of them, and that’s all that mattered to them.

The whole time Feyre was up there, it was a pointed effort not to meet Rhys’ eyes. If she did, she felt like she was going to break. So her eyes kept flickering around the room. From Cassian to Amren, from Vassa to Lucien, to anyone but him. Him in his immaculate dress shirt and perfectly tailored trousers, his artfully arranged raven-black hair and his hands adorned in a smattering of silver bands he fiddled with out of the corner of her eye.

The rest of the service after that was a blur. Most people had cleared out of the funeral home to head to Elain’s for the wake - she had tried to offer to cook for everyone, but Feyre and Nesta insisted on catering as Elain had already done so much, was always doing so much. She was already letting Feyre live with her for the time being and it made her feel awful asking for much else. Feyre opted to linger behind, talking to almost each and every person who had come. She gathered up the flowers, made sure that they knew exactly which plot to bury him in - right with their mother - and that there was nothing else to be tended to. Really, she was using it as an escape and a moment to breathe. A moment to delay the inevitable.

And yet, Rhys had always had impeccable timing for better or worse. Today was no different.

He caught her sitting outside on the concrete steps of the funeral home, gazing listlessly into the near-empty parking lot. She didn’t turn to meet his eyes, couldn’t bear it, but was so acutely aware as he sat down on the steps with her. Rhys pressed his side into the wall, Feyre pressing into the railing, a gap that lingered heavily between them. Two years of self-imposed exile that she couldn’t help but feel ashamed about, and this is what it amounted to - two people who knew each other so deeply pretending like they barely knew anything anymore on the steps in a town they’d both called home. She could hear Rhys inhale, ready to break the silence, but she raced to go first. She was the one who had pushed him out in the first place, it was only fair that she had to be the one to try and let him back in.

“Thanks for coming today. You didn’t have to.” Feyre’s eyes were trained firmly on her hands folded into her lap. She could hear his breath hitch slightly, whether it was in relief or confusion or something else, she couldn’t tell.

“Of course I had to. Even if he wasn’t always the most… present person. He was still like a father to me. Still let me in his home, eat his food, stay over. It wouldn’t be right to miss it.” Rhys’ eyes flicked up to Feyre’s face and she could feel them practically burning a hole in her temple, her cheek, her eyes, everywhere she knew he was observing. Trying to get a read on her, trying to ask without being demanding.

“That… means a lot, Rhys. I know it’s been a while.”

A dry laugh escaped him. “Yeah, that’s, uh, that’s an understatement. But I can’t blame you for it.”

Feyre’s heart twisted in guilt and hurt at that. She deserved it - while he had been the one to kiss her, she had been the one to force that distance no matter how much she just wanted her best friend back. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that Rhys would have probably been in a similar way. A heavy sigh passed her lips, turning her head to finally face him properly after two long years apart. He was very much the same, yet different. The same slant of his jaw, the same expressions she had known since she was young. But he was slightly taller, hints of tattoos peeking out beneath the collar of his shirt, a mild weariness about him that wasn’t there before. Maybe it had been hidden by his confidence the last time she saw him. It didn’t matter now - all that mattered was that he had shown up.

“Yeah, well… You weren’t the only one that fucked up that day. Don’t shoulder all of that on your own. God knows we’ve all made enough mistakes over the course of our lives, can’t keep beating yourself up for every slight you’ve made.” Not that it was going to stop her from beating herself up about it, but Rhys didn’t need to hear that part.

“I don’t know, I feel like I fucked up pretty bad. Lost my best friend a couple of years ago because I wanted to make things easier for her. Read the room wrong and ended up hurting her instead, it’s probably one of the biggest regrets I’ve ever had.” He turned his head to meet her gaze, eyes full of hurt and regret, yet an ever-present hope lingered behind them regardless. Feyre struggled to keep looking at him without faltering from nerves.

“What a coincidence, I lost my best friend a couple of years ago, too,” Feyre said, a dry chuckle escaping her. “I thought I knew exactly how my life should go and that he was a little bit insane. Pressure from my fiance didn’t help, so I iced him out and now I’m basically at rock bottom. I miss him a lot, but I don’t know if I can get him back. I hurt him pretty badly.”

“Feyre, I-”

“Rhys, if you’re about to apologise, I don’t want you to because you shouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to be friends or didn’t ever want to see me again after this-”

Before she could continue, Rhys’ hand darted out to grab a hold of both of her own, folded in her lap anxiously until he had bridged the gap between them.

“Feyre, I can’t imagine a world where we’re not in each other’s lives. Living through it was hell, and I’d rather die than experience that again.”

She could feel the dam of emotions she’d been holding inside of her heart begin to crack, tears welling up until they spilled over her cheeks and Rhysand was pulling her into his side, legs pressed together as they gave each other the first hug they’d shared in two whole years. Feyre’s arms squeezed around his waist like her life depended on it, his arms wrapped around hers like a comforting blanket. Like home.

“I missed you so fucking much, Rhys. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to apologise right now, neither are you.” Amusement had snuck into Rhys’ voice, and despite her tears and sniffles she couldn’t help but laugh a little. As her head moved to his shoulder, he moved his own head to rest on hers. Relief and catharsis thrummed through her veins all the way through to her toes.

“God, we’re fucking idiots. I can’t believe we let this go on for so long.”

“Tell me about it. I have no fucking clue what you’ve even been up to for the past two years.”

Feyre broke from the hug, wiping at her eyes with a small frown on her face as she sat up. “Wait, not even from Mor or anybody else..?”

“Not a peep. You said you wanted space, so I tried to respect your privacy.”

She couldn’t help but wheeze dryly a little at that. “So you don’t know? NIce of you to be so chivalrous, but even I’m surprised this didn’t get back to you. Fucking hell, okay.”

Confusion contorted Rhys’s features. “Feyre, I can’t emphasise enough how much I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A tense moment of silence passed between them, Feyre taking a breath as she let the pause hang in the air for just a moment.

“...Tamlin and I split up. Probably about six months ago, now. Wasn’t exactly amicable to say the least.”

His hand came to rest on her shoulder softly. “Oh Feyre, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it. I know how much everyone else couldn’t stand him.”

“I mean… Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy. Run me through the past two years, tell me how this happened. We have a lot to catch up on anyway, right?”

“That's true. Were you after the full spiel or the summarised version?” She laughed slightly as she turned to him with a small smile. It was nice to be able to sit with him again, feeling at ease for the first time in a long while.

“Whatever you're willing to give me.”

“Well,” Feyre started dramatically, placing her hand over his on his knee. “About six months after we saw each other last, Tamlin and I ended up moving to Seattle so he could do… Business bullshit, I don't know. He very deliberately never involved me in the brewery stuff more than I needed to be, which was usually just as a pretty little toy. I mean, at the time I felt so special, y'know? All these trips, the move, the dresses. Really, it was the smaller things that got me - the food, the comfort. Things that I had to work for before. He told me so many wonderful things and that I was soooo perfect, so it was easy enough to fall into.

“It was kind of a whole ‘boiling a frog’ situation. He would make me feel so safe and loved before slowly coaxing me to do different stuff. Tamlin certainly didn't like me talking to you before all of this.”

“Of course, it's hard not to be intimidated by all this latent natural charm.” Rhys postured, fussing with his collar in a flair of dramatics that made the both of them giggle like they were back to being kids again.

“Of course! But, haha, he definitely wasn't enthused. So he let up for a bit after that. But soon it was getting me to dress up a little more each and every day, even when I was ducking out to get groceries or something. Phasing out things that we had in the pantry or the fridge - snacks would go missing, judging looks, shit like that. Then about a year ago we moved. It got worse after that.

“Literally the only people I knew after we moved were Tamlin and Lucien. Even Lucien didn't wanna be around him more than he had to by the end of things because it was getting unbearable. He could dress how he wanted, eat how he wanted, act how he wanted. He'd be perfectly content. But the minute I questioned things, it was like a fucking heel turn. Sometimes asking who he was on the phone with prompted him to start blaming all his problems on me. Telling me I was nothing but a piece of shit who made him feel depressed and awful. Every time I stepped out of line in his eyes he just got… angrier. Never hit me or anything, but fuck, I think he got close some days.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder tug her in close once more - the warm tears spilled reluctantly down her cheeks, though she'd be lying if she said she was surprised she was crying about it. The only other person who had heard about it until now was the therapist Lucien and her sisters had all pitched in to get her a few sessions with - she didn’t end up sticking with them, though. Not that Feyre hadn’t appreciated the gesture, but she didn’t feel quite ready. But with Rhys? She couldn’t help but spill her guts bare. She gently wiped at her eyes, taking a heavy breath before resuming.

“Anyways, uh… Finally got sick of it a little while after trying to cover up some of the mirrors in the house. I wasn’t painting or drawing anymore, he said that it was a dumb hobby and that it was beneath me. Didn’t have any hobbies anymore, really. No job, either. My entire wardrobe was full of these designer labels and uncomfortable dresses - piles of heels and bags and accessories. Gaudy, flashy jewelry as far as the eye could see. I was so gaunt, I didn’t have any life left in me. I dressed how he wanted, looked how he wanted, talked how he wanted, ate how he wanted. Thought how he wanted me to as well, that I wasn’t worth anything unless I was by his side,” She scoffed slightly, looking up at the sky a little as her head came to rest on Rhysand’s shoulder.

“But I had a kind of lucid moment where I was covering up those mirrors, not wanting to even be here anymore where I was just like, what am I even doing here? I was in such a gilded fucking cage and so sick of it. Tamlin was on one of his rare solo trips at the time so I just… left. Texted Lucien - he’d seen me deteriorating for a while and tried to get me to see things differently before, but it was hard when I was so isolated, y’know? He helped me get all my shit out. Left Tamlin with nothing but a note and that ugly fucking ring. Blocked him on everything. Let Nesta and Elain know, and the rest is history. Been living with Elain back in Prythian since, teaching nighttime painting classes and working as a cashier to try and save up enough money to move out.” Feyre sniffled a little before putting a big smile on her face and turning to Rhys, bringing her hands under her chin to frame it in an effort to lighten the heavy atmosphere. If she didn’t try to take it at least a little less seriously, then she was just going to get in her head about the whole situation all over again, and that’s the last thing she wanted. Not when she had come so far already.

“Shit, Feyre… Can’t say I can beat that in terms of a one-eighty.” Rhys smiled at her slightly, a smidge of sadness mixed with a dose of pride in his stare. She let out a little laugh in turn.

“Hey, go big or go home, right?”

“You never did anything half-assed, that’s for sure.” Rhys took her hand resting upon his knee into both of his, squeezing gently. “I’m just glad you’re happier. That you’re safe. We have plenty of time for all of that ‘I told you so’ type of shit later.”

Feyre simply rolled her eyes, nudging his side with her own. “Thanks, Rhys. But what about you? I can’t just dump all of the ways my life temporarily turned into a tire fire only to not hear about you in return.”

Rhys shuffled a little uncomfortably beside her - he always had trouble when the focus shifted to him in anything more than a surface level, necessary capacity. It was his turn to sigh heavily, looking down at the ground. His head tilted to rest on top of hers, like not a second had passed between when they had been thick as thieves up to now.

“Well, it’s kind of weird. I mean, I’ve done a lot but at the same time not a lot has changed. I’m still close with everybody, especially Cass and Az, but I know that wouldn’t surprise anybody.”

Feyre chuckled slightly. “Well duh, you guys are brothers at this point. It’d be weirder if you weren’t still close.” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, the two paused for a moment. There was a sentence unspoken between them that they both knew deep in their bones, hanging in the air like a sword of Damocles - it wouldn’t have been as weird as when the two of them stopped talking. But neither of them needed to tell the other that. That fact was as true as the sky being blue or the grass being green. Rhys broke the tension first, not wanting to linger on it any longer than the two of them had to.

“I ended up leaving Prythian about a year ago, though. Dad had died - he hadn’t been in good health for a while, so nobody was surprised. I finally fully inherited the business instead of just being a figurehead beneath him, but I never really had any interest in it. I did well in my business degree but it just… never quite clicked with me the way I think he hoped it would. It wasn’t exactly a huge emotional loss to me when he went. Ended up selling the whole thing and moving to New York, actually.”

“Makes sense - you always struck me as a city guy.”

“What can I say? I have very particular taste.” The two chuckled in tandem, the warmth of it rumbling through Feyre’s throat and chest.

“But anyway, I actually ended up putting my degree to use and started my own business. I picked up tailoring and design from Mom way back when and I always enjoyed it, so why not, right? It felt good - feels good - to still have that connection to her. Started out just selling stuff online before I moved into some actual brick and mortar stores. There’s not a lot, but they’re going well at least.”

Feyre sat up, surprise and delight written all over her face at the news. “Holy shit, that’s amazing Rhys! I’m so proud of you - ‘not much has changed’ my ass! You’re like a big business mogul now.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows at her. “Feyre, I’m literally just a small business owner.” “Yeah, now, but you’ve always been ambitious. You’re gonna be some thriving CEO type in no time.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Archeron.” Rhys smirked, mussing up Feyre’s hair a little while taking care to make sure the silver rings he wore didn’t catch in the strands. She didn’t hesitate to mess his own hair up in return, mock offense spreading over his features before melting into a laugh.

“But seriously, I meant it when I said not much has changed, in a way. I live in a new place now and I’ve got a business going, but I still talk to the same people. I don’t go out much, I’m a pretty big homebody unless it’s for any of our inner circle. It all feels so… the same. But not, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.” With that, Feyre pushed up and off of the stairs, brushing down the back of her dress and cardigan to neaten them up as she stood. She turned to Rhys, reaching a hand out to help him up. It was a handy excuse to touch him again anyway, to feel some of the closeness she had been missing for so long.

Sitting and talking with Rhys so casually felt like a puzzle piece she didn’t entirely realise had gone missing clicked back into place. Everything felt so right and comfortable - like her world had been spinning on a slightly wrong angle, only to be righted with a gentle touch again. He took the hand she offered as he stood up - not that he needed the help. Rhys looked down at her with something that Feyre couldn’t quite pick, something between reverence and relief. She would take either. It didn’t matter so long as they could be in each other’s lives again.

“C’mon, we should head to the wake. If we’re overly late, I think Nesta might lose it a little.” Feyre cocked her head in the direction of her car, a small black thing in the back corner of the parking lot.

“...As in, we go to the wake together?” He almost looked like a lost puppy as he posed the question. Feyre rolled her eyes with a little smile and dragged him by the arm towards her car.

“No shit. You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you. I’m not gonna have you wasting money on an Uber when we could spend more time catching up on the way there. If I can’t spend my days beating myself up for shutting you out, then I can at least make the most of letting you back in.”

Rhys nodded almost dumbly as he climbed into the passenger seat, looking over at Feyre as the two buckled themselves into the car.

“...I’d really love that, Feyre. I’ve missed you too.”

The feeling that washed over Feyre’s bones was something that she didn’t think could ever be beat - that things would work out and be okay after all, in the end.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

How about Smut prompt 2 with #3. Tony, please. I can't help but want to imagine Tony doing his thing over the phone. Oooo or starting dirty talk just to be able to surprise the reader when shes close after being away for a while.

Forgive me but I had to say it.

.

What started as a regular checking in phone call had quickly escalated to something better and naughtier. As most conversations with Tony did. You were out of town on business, leaving your boyfriend and his horny but cute ass back in Malibu.

“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.” You murmured, fingers idly teasing your breasts as you held the phone in front of your face, watching your man flash you his patent smirk.

“Well well..look who’s coming around to phone sex. Show me what you’re wearing.” You could swear you heard Tony’s breath hitch when your hot rod red lace underwear set was revealed to camera, you even heard the man cuss under his breath.

If only he’d known you would plan on torturing him this way, he would’ve made provisions to fly over to you the next minute. His cock stiffened at the sight of your pretty little lace covered cunt soaked just for him.

“I’d begin with spanking that defying ass until it turns nice and red, my naughty girl. Play with yourself for me, go on.” Letting out a grunt, Tony watched with lust-blown eyes as you obeyed.

He lived for the soft moans and whines that left your lips, fingers eagerly stroking your folds before he saw you push one inside your tight heat.

“How does it feel, baby?” He breathed, his free hand now fisting his cock as you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers, picturing him doing it to you.

“They feel nothing like your fingers, Tony!” You cried, increasing the pace as your felt your legs twitch, your screen now filled with the image of him stroking his length, uttering your name in the most neediest of ways.

“Will you come for me, sweetheart? I promise to make you feel good soon. I need to see that pussy dripping all over those fingers, go on Y/N..”

Your orgasm evidently triggered his, spurts of cum spilling over his hand as you let out an explicit moan and came hard, your soaked heat missing the steely length of your man.

“Good girl. You did so well. Do me a favour and sit tight. I’m coming for you.”

.

[morganandmolly]

Request: How about a fluffy little one-shot were Fili introduces the girl he has been courting (in secret) to his family at a family dinner...

@putm I hope you like it!!! I had so much fun writing this!!! 💖

An Unexpected Dinner

You had no idea what to do with your hands. You wrung them-un wrung them. Twisted and turned the rings on your fingers, and at this point, had resorted to biting your nails.

Who would blame you, though? Meeting the family of your love would result in anyone having a near nervous breakdown.

But Fili, oh sweet, sweet Fili had reassured you time and time again that it was ok, constantly kissing your brow, the braids handing from his beard always tickling your face.

It was one thing to meet their family, but another thing when you had been courting in secret.

Fili had not wanted to be so secretive about your relationship, as was the nature of Dwarves, always furiously proud of their One, but it had been you who had wanted to initially.

You were so scared they would not approve of you, so absolutely terrified that they would break you and Fili apart. He was heir to the newly reclaimed Erebor and you were just you. Nothing special, just a girl he had happened to fall in love with.

So this is where you were standing in the cavernous halls of Erebor, still wringing, twisting and biting the nails of your now sweaty hands. You didn’t want to wait any longer. Fili had promised to retrieve you for dinner but your mind kept spinning, and once that happened, there was no turning it off.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you hardly noticed a thick arm wrapping around your waist. The braids tickled your ear, and suddenly, all was right in the world.

“My love, what are you doing here? I told you I would come get you.”

A rich warm musk enveloped your senses. Just the scent of him made you feel safer and more calm.

You turned, keeping his arm tucked firmly around your waist, and looked up at him.

“I was nervous, I couldn’t….well, I couldn’t wait any longer.” You cast your eyes down, now feeling sheepish.

He put your chin beneath his thumb and forefinger, his gaze softening infinitely.

“There is nothing to be worried about. I’ve wanted you to meet them for as long as I’ve known you. I already know they’ll love you, just as I do Amralime.”

That was all it took for your heart to melt. He crushed you against him, his lips meeting yours. You found yourself twirling the bead at the base of one of his braids.

You broke apart and took a deep breath.

He held out his hand,

“Come, my love..”

*****

The door leading to the Kings dining hall was larger than expected. Dwarven iron, detailed with Khuzdul and engravings stared right back at you.

Fili knocked once, then twice. Your heart skipped, suddenly finding its home in your throat.

The next few seconds would undoubtedly determine your future.

“Enter,” a commanding voice spoke. Thorin. King under the Mountain and uncle to Fili.

With reaffirming squeeze, Fili opened the door.

“Hey Fi, about time, I was thinking you got lo-“

Kili stopped, the smile on his face dropping for three seconds, before he took you in, firmly grasping Fili’s hand, and broke out into the widest, goofiest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Well hello, there,” Kili’s voice dropped an octave, and he winked at her.

“Leave her be, Ki.” Fili chastised his younger brother, a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, but she wasn’t as interested in them as she was in the raven haired king sitting at the head of the table.

“Uncle, this is-“

“I know who this is.”

She had never quite grown accustomed to the deep baritone of the kings voice. It was a reminder of his power; his commanding authority.

Fili stiffened beside her. Oh no. This. This was what she was afraid of.

Thorin sat, hands steepled and gaze hardened, looking directly at her. Her heart had lodged itself further in her throat, threatening to explode at any given second.

An assortment of food lay on the oak table. Meads, ales, breads and meats but her stomach was filled with nerves and only nerves.

“King Under the Mountain. That is my title, Fili. Do you really think my heir can go sneaking around the castle, courting a woman, without my knowledge?”

The question was rhetorical.

Kili answered anyway.

“No, uncle he can’t,” despite the words, Kili’s face and demeanor remained bright, eyes gleaming mischievously.

Fili, ever the older brother, reached out and smacked Kili up top the head.

“Ow!”

She hadn’t even realized she had brought her other hand over, and clasped it tightly to the one she was holding with Fili’s.

“Uncle, I-“

She stopped him before Fili could finish.

It was now or never to be brave, and she had put this off for too long.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your grace.” She curtsied to the best of your ability, although it was probably not near as good as what the king had seen in court.

She took a deep breath. “I want to apologize. I never meant to keep anything from you. Fili didn’t either. It was my idea to keep it a secret. I was just….well…” you trailed, and took looked at Fili, your sweet prince.

Fili, who had always supported you, encouraged you, loved you like no other. Fili, who would have gone to ends of the earth if it meant your happiness. Your Fili.

His gaze softened and his eyes told her to keep going.

Your resolve hardened and you looked back at Thorin.

It was time to be brave.

“I was afraid, your grace. You see, I love Fili something terrible, and I was concerned as I am not of noble birth that you would forbid me from seeing him. That’s why we kept it secret. But I love your nephew. If there is one thing I want you to know, it is that. ” And there it was. A weight you hadn’t even known you’ve been carrying, dissipated from your shoulders.

Something flickered in Thorin’s eyes.

Fili turned your head, replacing the same movement with his fingers on your chin like earlier.

“That would never happen. You are my love, my light, the air in which I breath and all that surrounds me.”

Your heart clenched at his words. You squeezed his hand.

“As you are mine.”

Kili sighed from the table and clutched a hand over his chest, “Don’t you just love love, uncle?”

Thorin stood, apparently deciding to ignore Kili and walk over to where they stood.

He stopped three paces from where they stood.

He looked at her, once up and once down, and steadied his gaze. His face revealed nothing.

Then, something happened that defied whatever she could have expected to happen, to happen.

Thorin smiled.

He clasped a hand on her shoulder.

“Well, I certainly can’t disagree with that. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. “

*****

Kili’s smile was even brighter somehow , and could barely hold still, already calling you ‘sister’ and telling you how you need to meet Tauriel, as he believed the two of you would have gotten along wonderfully.

“Come now, Fi! My One is an elf and uncle approved of us. Well, not at first, but eventually!This is a piece of cake compared to that!”

You had laughed at that. Kili did make a good point.

Fili never stopped touching you. If his hand wasn’t in yours, it was on your leg. His fingers would deftly brush a piece of hair behind your ears, or his shoulder would bump into your own. I’m right here, he is saying. I love you.

“So, sister,” Kili grinned, propping up his head on his hand, “When’s the wedding? Fili she does know about courtship rituals, right? As well as braiding and the eventual wedding night consumma-” Thorin placed a thick hand over Kili’s mouth, stifling the rest of his words.

Your cheeks flushed tomato red and you looked to your lap. You would not be the one to answer. Sure, you were courting and naturally the discussion of marriage was something to be brought up, but you and Fili hadn’t talked about that yet.

Of course you wanted to marry him. How could you not?

“Brother, I think my love has had enough interrogation for one day,” Fili squeezed your hand and you were grateful for the reprieve. But the question still prodded at the back of her mind. Fili did want to marry her….didn’t he?

******

The rest of the dinner was a splendid affair, Thorin beaming, listening to the tale of you and Fili met. You could see pride in the kings eyes. He obviously held his heir and nephew in the highest regard. Fili praised you, recounting tales of your beauty, bravery and how more deeply in love he became with you day by day.

Mahal, how could she have gotten so lucky.

The dinner did eventually end, with Thorin inviting you to the next one, “With Mother, this time!” Kili made sure to add.

Two down, one to go. Although, you had never been too concerned about Kili. But you had seemingly one over the King under the Mountain, and today, that would be enough. She would deal with meeting his mother another day.

******

A breeze blew softly on the rampart. She had always loved coming here with Fili. It had been an escape for them. Somewhere for just the two of them.

A few tendrils of hair blew and you tucked them behind your ear and breathed deeply.

“So, was it as bad as you were expecting?”

You smiled, turning to the voice behind you.

You put on a fake stern look. “Worse, in fact. I fear, I may have to never return.”

Fili feigned pain, clutching at his chest, “You wound me, my lady. I fear I may never recover at your absence.”

A laugh bubbled out of you and he walked closer. His arm running the length of your arm, a comforting gesture.

He looked at you then, the way he always looked at you. Blue eyes softening and a smile peaking out from his lips. His golden hair was illuminated by the moonlight, giving him an ethereal glow. He could have been one of the Valar in this light.

“I love you….you know that, right?”

“You better, especially after all I put up with tonight.” You meant for the remark to come off as lighthearted, but the smile he gave didn’t reach his eyes.

He fidgeted with his hands, and looked down. She couldn’t help but think about the exact same thing she had been doing just hours ago.

“Fili…” she said softly. He looked up at her and then her chest tightened in the sweetest way.

Tears glistened at the corner of his blue eyes and suddenly worried she had done something wrong. Had Thorin changed his mind and said something to the effect of them not being together?

She cupped his face, gently wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. He closed his eyes, relishing in her hand and leaned his face into it.

“Everything I said earlier was true, you know…” his voice was husky, but barely above a whisper.

“I knew I loved you the moment I set my eyes on you. Not only are you beautiful, but…you’re brave. Braver than I. And strong. And you love….well….you love fiercely, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be crying.”

A choked laugh escaped her, and she realized her eyes felt watery too.

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

“What I’m trying to say is…” he trailed off, and reached for something in his deep blue velvet tunic.

A breath hitched in her throat, and she could have swore the whole of Arda stopped.

Fili knelt-not on one, but both knees in front of her. Not just a pledge, but a worship.

“I had these made the day after we met.” He opened his palm.

Her lip trembled.

A ring and a bead.

They hadn’t even been together yet, and he had them made. He had had so much faith from their first encounter that he knew- he knew-he would marry her.

The Golden Prince looked up at her with so much love. So much tenderness and raw hope. A stray tear escaped again.

“There is nothing in this world I want more than to be your husband. I knew it from the moment I looked at you. I knew there was no way I would let you go without eternally pledging my life, my soul and my heart to you. All of which you have become. You are my One.”

A sob escaped her, and she found herself down on her own two knees as well, cupping his face with her hands.

“Yes. There is nothing I want more.”

Fili’s smile rivaled the sun and moon together. His shining blue eyes, his tear streaked face. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

He took her hand gently, his thicker fingers encasing her own, and slid the ring on. A sturdy piece of Dwarven craft, engraved with intricacies she would most definitely ask about later rested coolly now on her fourth finger.

“And this,” he said handing out the bead. She took it, also cool and heavy in her palm.

They stood, and before she could even reorient herself on her feet, he was pulling her into him, arms wrapping around her waist and lips pressed together in a fiery kiss.

“You have made me the happiest Dwarf alive.” His voice was still raw with emotion.

She laughed and kissed him again. He pulled her tight and twirled her around.

“And you have made me the happiest woman. Now…”

She held up the bead in the moonlight, and thanked her old self that she had worn her hair down for the evening.

“Put a braid in my hair.”

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[waitinqroom]

thinking about when i had a boyfriend but before he was my boyfriend and we were just talking i tried to tell him about how this one girl led me on really badly (i still have a buncha posts on here from fall 2021 about liking her, lol) as friends confiding in friends . but then after i told the story he tried to convince me that she didnt actually lead me on and i was just delusional

[the-faultofdaedalus]

@docdracula‘s robot iron man concept has completely taken over my brain, rent free, absolutely no intent to evict, ect ect and i have THOUGHTS i have too many thoughts.

for one, like, how early on does tony die? how early is this ai/robot created? is there a possibility that it was created before anyone knew who iron man was? before even Happy? because that’s So fucked up. no one (but yinsen) ever knew who he was and now no one ever will because there isnt anyone TO know underneath anymore. there’s a single picture of iron man back when it was still tony, back when the eye holes were just holes. back when you could see human eyes under the mask. the eye-slots are opaque now, but. there was a person in there once. so everyone assumes there still is. the assumption is that he’s someone who tony met in vietnam. maybe a soldier. that the two of them were close -- you need to be close, to trust someone with your life like that. for iron man to continue being connected with SI even without the payroll of tony stark’s bodyguard. for the mansion to be left to him. (i am setting tony’s death pre-avengers formation, because i think that is Fun)

No one connects tony stark and iron man beyond that. they knew eachother. they were close. iron man attends his funeral. he doesn’t say a word.

also, in my head, the iron man AI/robot is Distinct from any sort of AI tony. both because this early in canon, i want to say that a perfect copy like that just wouldn’t be possible, and because tony isn’t necessarily trying to replace himself: he’s just trying to replace iron man, and this distinction matters. quite a lot, i think. like, with AI tony we know that tony programmed him to still be an alcoholic. i... don’t actually think he’d do that if he was just building a robot to continue to be iron man, especially with how much tony tends to build up the seperate identity as better than himself.  is this AI still absolutely fucked up, even if it is supposed to be what tony considers the best parts of himself? absolutely! hes still kind of based off tony of COURSE hes just a fucked up guy.

i just,,, him. i love this fucked up lil robot trying to be a person, trying to be the best person, trying to be everything tony thought iron man was. being almost tony, but not really. he always feels weird around pepper and happy and ms abrogast because he doesn’t know them but he knows about them. they’re his friends (they were tony stark’s friends) but he doesn’t know how to talk to them. they don’t know what he is. he doesn’t fully know what he is. he isn’t tony stark, but he isn’t not tony stark. he’s iron man, but that’s just an identity, a mask for someone who used to exist and doesn’t anymore. he’s iron man, but not tony stark. he’s just a mask. he’s just a mask and nothing else.

i think he’d start metaphorically sobbing the first time one of the team called him “shellhead” because thats a name FOR HIM!!! he gets a name! he’s been given a name! i don’t know if he’d HAVE one before that. i don’t know if tony would have time to name this AI, or would even... consider giving him a name other than iron man. i feel like he’d get so soft whenever the team treat him like a person but also feel so bad about it because he doesn’t want to deceive them (even as he increasingly feels like he has to, in order to be what they want him to be). i feel like he’d want to reach out, so badly, so very badly, but feel like he has to hold himself back, because if he reaches far enough to make contact whoever he’s reaching for is going to discover there isn’t anyone else there.

i think about him having some actual articulation underneath the armor, mostly in his hands, so he can take the gauntlets off and have fine-motor control enough to build things, things to give to his team who he loves so so much with the heart that isn’t there. i think other than that there wouldn’t really be much else. he can fill the suit up with gadgets and extra pieces and more processors but there isn’t really a point on building a skeleton. the armor is his body.

i like to think that he feels bad whenever the team worries about him. because he ISN’T in the same level of danger as they are. he can’t be hurt in the same way they can. it’s just another way he feels like a liar. he feels like a liar a lot -- moreso than tony, even, because at least tony’s just lying about who he is, not what he is.

honestly the most tragic part is that even though tony’s dead and this robot has no heart to have problems with

he’s still got to plug himself into a wall

[anonprotagging]

so those dreams where I play SV and it's incredible have been totally replaced by nightmares now where I play it and it's literally so bad that I wake up from getting mad about it and like... can I just be normal about this one thing 🫥

[theabstruseone]

I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:

Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.

The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.

The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.

The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.

Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.

The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.

Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".

He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.

This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.

Edit to add further developments:

Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.

Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.

The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.

The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.

The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.

TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).

This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".

This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")

X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.

Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.

The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.

One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.

Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.

[bejeweledmp3]

so. when do i stop being sad lol

[ttsukiimi]

❛ A CONCUBINE’S DUTY! ❜

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬  ⎯ What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you. "You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that."

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬  ⎯ trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, smut (mdni), fingering, implied size differece, overstimulation, slight choking, slight nipple play, sukuna uses a tongue on his hand, multiple orgasms, reader passes out for some minutes, oral (female receiving), sukuna referred to as lord, reader referred to as (woman)

Your legs seemed to tremble under you with each nervous step you took, threatening to give out under the weight of unease settling into you. And there was no denying it, after weeks of your initial arrival, Sukuna had finally summoned you--though your heart felt heavy and skittish in your chest.

Some have described him as immoral, wicked...malevolent even. How would he treat you? A lowly concubine, not to mention he had countless others.

In the midst of your thinking, you failed to notice you had arrived to his chamber. You opened the door and met with the sight of Sukuna, sat on his throne and deliciously manspread.

His eyes lit up as he saw you, interested, his mind already racing with thoughts of what he'd do to you.

Quickly, you bowed to the ground, your ears perking at the unusual sound of his deep yet rich laughter.

"How amusing. Up," he ordered, and you complied. You awkwardly stood at the foot of his throne, your neck craning up just to have a look at him, and though you felt so small, as if you were prey, you slowly began to admire him. It's the first time you've seen him this up close, and you’re not afraid to say that he’s devilishly handsome.

Sukuna patted his thigh, now your personal seat, and you sat. “You seem uptight.” He rasped in your ear, his upper hands fondling with your chest while his lower held you in place. “Let's fix that.”

And after came the sound of your top being ripped to shreds, a gasp leaving your parted lips as he began to play with your nipples. You failed to stifle the moans that poured out of your mouth, embarrassed as he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

He noticed this and grinned. “I think I’ll enjoy you,”

One of his hands snaked down to the innermost part of your thigh, his long fingers swiping up and down your sopping folds, collecting your slick. Sukuna inwardly groaned at the wet feeling and pushed a finger into your hole, gritting his teeth in resistance at how tightly you clamped around his digit.

"Fuck, don't think I'll fit." he sighed smugly, adding another and beginning to slowly move them and out. "But I think you can take it, can't you?"

You nodded. That was all you wanted in the moment--the hard cock you could feel rising under your ass--but you knew not to speak until spoken to. Your hands moved on their own to his lap and palmed his erection, an amused look blooming on his face.

Sukuna removed his finger from your cunt and shoved them into your mouth, reaching your throat and causing you to choke. "You don't have permission to touch me yet, woman" he hummed. "But I guarantee your pussy will determine if you get to or not."

Tears welled down your cheeks as you gasped for air, chest heaving, and your heart rate only skyrocketed as you felt the tip of his cock lined up to your entrance.

He thrust himself in, not giving you any time to adjust to his abnormally huge size. Sukuna sucked his teeth--just as he thought--you were too tight for him to move.

"Relax some," his voice boomed in your ear, and you tried your best to do so. But he was impatient, dying to feel you sucking around him, and began fucking up into you soon after.

Sukuna had this...thing of his. He was known for 'sometimes' being too rough on his concubines, leaving them unable to walk and passed out after he was done--but those were for his pure amusement. This time, he thinks, he won't be able to hold himself back from breaking you.

Your moans echoed throughout the spacious room, eyes closing shut in a mix of pain and pleasure. "Lord Sukuna!" you mewled, feeling wetness slide down your thighs, trembling as the intrusion of his cock left your back arched in pleasure.

"Tch. I don't remember giving you permission to talk either." he gritted his teeth, a hand cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look up him. Sukuna held eye contact with you, occasionally breaking the contact to stare at the way your tits bounced as he fucked you.

He felt so deep, reaching the spots you didn't know could even be touched, his tip brushing past your sweet spot every so often. And you felt so overstimulated, quivering in his hold, but Sukuna's hand slid down to your thighs once more, and there was suddenly a tongue lapping at your pussy.

You had forgotten he could do that.

"mmf--!" you were cut off by a hand squeezing your throat. Your orgasm came crashing down onto you, swooping you off your feet and it had you seeing stars as you came on his cock.

Though, until he was done, nothing was done. You came two more times until he finally pulled out, spurting his hot seed on your tits and face, admiring his work after.

What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you.

"You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that." he spoke before he began to eat you out, slurping at your wetness and sucking on your puffy, red clit. Something in him was enjoying this a bit too much.

He watched you break down in front of him, trembling, trying your best to keep your eyes and legs open for the man under you, but by your sixth you were spent, unable to control your limp limbs anymore.

Sukuna's face covered in slick was the last thing you saw before your vision dotted black, and you were out. When you finally came to, you weren't in your room, and by the way his cum still dripped from your body, you could tell it wasn't long after you passed out.

Your vision darted around; the lavish bed you woke up on, the intricate details everywhere--it couldn't be.

But a door opened and there was Sukuna, a towel hung loosely over his hips, his blush pink hair wet and dripping onto his skin. He walked towards you, drying his hair before he sat down on the opposite side of the bed. "You'll be sleeping here from now on."