#his name is actually J like the letter but same thing

[verthu]

the 2 jays in my life:

[cressidagrey]

Unknowing

Summary:

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

What if… Azriel actually takes Rhys at his word? And does exactly what his High Lord ordered? With unexpected consequences.

This is the Inner Circle finding out about said consequences. Azriel is very good at keeping secrets

Warnings:

(This is a doozy.) Mention of Sex Work, Unexpected Pregnancy, Mention of Faerie Genocide, Mention of Faerie Wings being used as leather, Mention of Sex

Note:

This was a thought experiment that kinda started to grow a life on its own.

(super pretty divider by @saradika-graphics)

Azriel slid into the Dining Room of the River House nearly on the cusp of being late. Mostly because he hadn’t been able to pull himself away from what he had been doing that afternoon. 

Nobody in his situation would have wanted to leave. 

It had involved his wife and the flower field in their backyard… their daughter sleeping peacefully in her willow basket a few paces away, cradled in a bubble of her mother’s magic that would keep her asleep and safe from anything that could happen to her. 

Fed, changed and as happy as a clam to fall into her usual milk-induced coma, he knew that she would only wake up if she wanted more milk. 

Which meant that her parents had some quality time for each other…and they had made the best out of that. 

The result was a little shimmer of magic all over Azriel that he couldn’t get scrubbed away. Not that he had tried particularly hard either. He liked having that proof of his wife’s pleasure all over him. 

His wife, his mate, the mother of his child…his fucking sanity . There were many words he had for Embelia. 

She was the bright spot of his life, untouched by the darkness that leeched around him. A secret he gladly kept.

And if the glimmer of her magic followed him and showed everybody that he was hers…well, then that was the case. Azriel didn’t particularly care what anybody else thought of it. 

Azriel was out of fucks to give, to be honest. Had been, for the better part of two years…ever since that Solstice. 

He was pretty sure that something inside him had splintered apart at Rhys’ order. 

That fucking order had been the reason why he had ever even met Embelia though. He had taken Rhys literally. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her. That had been Rhys’ words. 

Her had been Elain. 

Azriel had listened to Rhys. He had followed the order to the fucking letter, giving the High Lord of the Night Court to complain about. He had left Elain alone…who had figured things out with Lucien. Both now happy and ensconced in Day Court, with Helion, Lucien’s actual father. 

And he had gone to that pleasure hall.  He had asked for any female that wasn’t afraid of him…and then Embelia had claimed his hand with hers. And that had been that. 

 Granted, he hadn’t known her name then. For months, all he had known her as had been Blossom. That’s who she had been to him for months . 

Just Blossom. Every Thursday, he had gone to that pleasure hall and paid for her company. 

And then she had gotten pregnant. 

Not quite what either of them expected. 

He hadn’t even bothered with a contraception draught and while she had, apparently it hadn’t stood up to Azriel of all faes. 

He should probably thank the mother on his knees for that . 

But Embelia had told him about the pregnancy and had been very clear from the start that while she wanted the child, she wasn’t going to ask anything of him. Which was simply unacceptable. 

He had grown up a bastard. He was not going to put his child through the same if he had any choice in that matter. 

And he had been a little bit in love with her then already. So taking her from that pleasure hall and making her his wife…moving her into a cottage he found and making a life with her…that had been the easiest decision he had ever made. 

They had just fit together…

She had come to live with him, and had given up her job, though that wasn’t something that bothered her all too much. More than anything she was happy that she no longer needed to do that to keep alive, to make a living…

And he got to hear the story of how she had come to Velaris and to the pleasure hall.  

Embelia was a Floresco Fairie. One of the few survivors of that breed of Lesser Fairies. The rest of her family had been slaughtered in the Spring Court Centuries ago. 

She had escaped and had ended up in Velaris of all places, traumatised and alone. Still half a child to her people, not having a trade or anything of that sort. The natural ability of a Floresco Fairy made it possible for her to grow flowers and life wherever she stood but none of that particularly lent itself to a well-paid job. 

So the pleasure house it had been. With a glamour, of course. 

The first time he had met her, she had left the glamour fall away, showing him a pair of iridescent pink wings sprouting out of her back. 

Even then he had thought that she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. 

That opinion had never changed. If anything…after the birth of their daughter, after the mating bond had snapped for both of them, sometimes between cutting the cord and pressing a kiss to their daughter’s blood-covered head, covered in downy black curls…and he had watched Emmie cradle the baby against her chest, watched her coo to her, not caring one bit about blood and sweat and anything else, because there was their little girl that they had hoped and prayed for…somehow at that point, love seemed such a weak word for what he felt for them both. 

Somehow…somehow they had become the light of his life, the only guide he needed. And he protected that ferociously. 

Maybe even more than was necessary. 

He kept them away from his job and from anything and anybody that may would know him as the terror of the Night Court. 

They were his. His. His . 

The first thing in his long life that was his and his alone . 

And maybe that was too possessive, but…he had never wanted to listen to anybody else’s opinions about his and Embelia’s relationship. 

And everybody would have had their opinions. 

He knew that.

Instead…he had kept them a secret. 

To this day, nobody knew. Not Rhys, not Cassian, not Mor, not Amren…not Feyre or Nesta. 

Though of all people, sometimes he thought that maybe Nesta suspected something. 

But even if she did…that was fine too. 

He had made Embelia his wife, and his mate and the mother of his child and nobody could take her away from him. Nobody but herself, and she was gloriously happy in their little flower-covered cottage, where she was…content to dabble at being a housewife. 

After the life she had, he could understand it. She revelled in the normal, in doing nothing but dote on their daughter and try and cook him dinner, which had started as absolutely disgusting but these days often turned out at least mostly edible…to tend to her garden of flowers, which were all she ate anyway…

To just exist there, in that little slice of paradise they built. 

And instead of being with her…he attended a family dinner at the River House that evening. He would have gladly just stayed at home, made himself dinner, or maybe let Embelia try to feed him, which never quite worked out and then walked their daughter to sleep. 

It would have been perfectly fine to him. To press a kiss to their daughter’s black curls and stroke her iridescent purple sparkling wings that were carefully folded and laid over her back…her heart-shaped mouth would open into a perfect o and she would yawn and he would fall in love all over again. It wouldn’t just be perfectly fine. It would be everything he had ever wanted. 

And then he could lay her in her crib and he could walk the few steps to their bed and crawl into it next to his wife, and she would give him that smile…and he could cocoon both of them in his wings and fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that she would be there the next morning.

Maybe kiss her some more and hear very perfect noise that left her throat and feel her warm body against his, skin like silk and small warm hands that could take him apart in seconds. 

But no. Rhys had ordered him. Like he was sometimes prone to be doing these days. Maybe because he didn’t know how Azriel spent his free time and clearly him being a loose cannon was way more believable than anything else. 

Oh well. Azriel wasn’t in the mood to clear that up. 

If anything he was in a brooding mood, wanting to go back to his afternoon in the flower field. 

“For cauldron’s sake,” Cassian complained, just as he started to violently sneeze. Multiple times. “Did you roll around in a flower field or something?” his brother demanded and Azriel was amused besides himself. 

“Yes,” he agreed drily, taking his seat next to Cassian who just glared at him and then grumbled under his breath, swapping seats with Nesta because otherwise he was probably not going to stop sneezing. 

“The Lord of Bloodshed taken to his knees by some flower pollen,” Amren drawled from across the table and Cassian glared at her. 

Nesta just snorted in amusement. 

Rhys and Feyre appeared at that moment and at least the discussion of flower fields was tabled for the moment. 

Which was just as well. 

Azriel mentally wondered if he could get away with skipping dessert if he cited some headache or something. He could get dessert at home. It promised to be much better than anything that would be served at the table anyway. 

Or maybe that was just going to make Rhys think that he was on the brink of some sort of breakdown even more than he already was. Who knew? 

Was it worth the mental berating that it promised to give him? All under the guise of worrying about him or checking in on him? 

Azriel had his own opinion about that these days. 

He couldn’t help but flinch as Nesta suddenly reached out to touch his hair. 

“What are you doing?” he asked her drily as Nesta pulled back her hand, Embelia’s glimmer sticking to it. 

“You have…glitter in your hair,” Nesta gave back. “What did you do?” she asked him with a grin. “Is that some kind of fashion choice now?” 

“It’s not glitter,” he gave back. It wasn’t. It was the flakes that Embelia’s wings shook loose when she trembled. It did look like glitter though. Sparkling, catching the sunlight…gorgeous, like every inch of her. 

“Az, I don’t know if you are ready to hear it, but it definitely looks like glitter,” Nesta told him with a snort. “Don’t worry, it suits you,” she said graciously, biting back a laugh. 

Mor was watching the whole thing. “It’s not glitter,” she finally said, mustering his hair with far too much interest. Azriel forced himself not to twitch under the assessing gaze of her brown eyes. Once upon a time, he would have given nearly everything to have her look at him like that, but nowadays…there was nothing there anymore. He would always lover her but sometimes during centuries of yearning for her it had settled into a deep and abiding friendship. Into loyalty. No longer the bright burning of desire, of…anything like that.  “Though I would really like to know where you found a Floresco Fairy to talk into your bed, Az,“ she said with a wink. 

Azriel didn’t react. 

“A what?” Feyre asked, curiosity piqued. 

“Floresco Fairy,“ Mor repeated. “They used to live in the Spring Court…centuries ago.”

“They don’t anymore?” Feyre wondered and the conversation around the table dropped. 

“Tamlin’s father had them slaughtered and used their wings for leather,“ Azriel said, his voice forcefully even. It was even more horrific than it sounded like. A whole breed of faeries was killed off because of their wings. Floresco Faeries had never been violent or a fighting breed. They kept to themselves, raising their families and growing their flowers and their crops…and then it had been ripped apart into a bloodbath. 

Embelia had been right in the middle of that. She had escaped, her youngest sister in tow…who had later succumbed to her injuries and all Emmie had been able to do was to bury her into the icy ground in Winter Court. She hadn’t outright said it but Azriel had known that for years she had wished to bury herself right there alongside her sister. 

Feyre just stared at him, blue eyes wide. “That’s horrible,“ she whispered, swallowing. 

“Yes,“ he agreed. It was. 

Horrific. 

“Not all died, a few escaped,” Mor said, trying to make it seem less horrific than it had been. “It happened a very long time ago. But still, they are quite rare. Where did you find her?” She asked Azriel, clearly trying to find something else to talk about.

He wasn’t stupid enough to lie to Morrigan, whose gift was Truth. 

“Today? At home.” He answered honestly. 

“Home?” Mor repeated, sounding amused beside herself. 

“Is she the same one you bought that solstice gift for?” Nesta piped up. 

He had asked her for advice, more out of desperation than anything else. She had been quite helpful though. 

He hadn’t been anted to ask Mor for obvious reasons, Armen would have probably bitten off his head and Feyre…well then Rhys would have known. But Nesta? Nesta had listened to him when he had asked politely and had then told him that if she liked him, she would like whatever he would buy her.

Not that useful but oh well. 

So he just nodded. 

“Which one did you end up picking?” Nesta asked him, curious. 

“I just bought both,” he admitted with a shrug. 

A hair comb that Emmie still wore nearly every day, silver and pink stones intertwined, keeping blush hair pulled back from her face and a pair of earrings that she also wore sometimes. 

She liked things like that, even when she never seemed to spend much money on them. And he liked buying her stuff like that because then she wore it and had that pleased little smile on her face, content and happy…

“Lucky girl,” Nesta told him with a secret smile, elbowing his ribs and he bit back down a smile for himself. 

“Az got a girlfriend?” Cassian asked, sounding shocked. 

“I do not,” he disagreed with a roll of his eyes. He didn’t have a girlfriend. He had a wife. Very different. 

“So you just buy…What did he buy, Nesta?” Cassian asked. 

“He was waffling between a jewel-encrusted hair comb or a pair of lovely earrings. Apparently, he got her both,” Nesta answered her mate with a sigh. “You should take some advice from him,” she told him drily, making Cassian roll his eyes. 

“So if you don’t have a girlfriend, you just buy hair combs and jewellery for any female you come across?” His brother asked him drily. 

He just shook his head, not saying a single word. His shadows tightened in response, crawling closer to him from where they had skittered away. 

They liked Embelia, though they had taken a special liking to his daughter, tendrils oftentimes coming to play with her or checking on her through the night. With Emmie they kept a respectful distance, though they liked to hide and play with her, like they basked in her pure presence.

It wouldn’t surprise him all too much if that’s what they did. 

“Flower and Bud are safe” they whispered at that moment, even when he hadn’t asked. 

Right. Safe. 

“Leave him to it, Cassian. Though maybe next time wash off the glimmer. Or don’t have one of your amorous adventures before you show up to dinner,” Rhys drawled. 

It shouldn’t have upset him like that. It shouldn’t have. 

It was harmless. Mostly at least, but Azriel couldn’t help but feel the icy rage burn bright in his chest at Rhysand’s words. At his brother’s words. 

He didn’t have many good things in his life but he had Emmie and he was not going to let anybody take her away from him. He was not. 

That was simply unacceptable. 

“If you try to forbid me from bedding my wife, Rhysand, we are going to have a problem,” Azriel snapped back icily. 

A real problem, because he was not willing to give up Embelia under any circumstances. Not her and also not the pleasure they shared. 

He regretted his words instantly. One could have heard a pin drop in the Dining Room of the River House at that moment because this was the last thing anybody had expected. 

The last thing. 

He had kept his wife and his daughter hidden and he had been completely content with that because it had kept them safe and secure and he hadn’t wanted to listen to anybody trying to talk him out of it or telling him it was a bad idea. 

It was his fucking choice and he had never regretted it once. 

“Your wife ,” Amren was the first that recovered. “Your wife?!”

“Yes.”

His wife. His daughter. His family. 

The family he claimed. They were his. 

“You don’t have a girlfriend but you have a wife ?” Mor repeated. 

He just nodded. 

“You got married. When?” she continued asking him and he met her gaze. 

“About a year ago,” he answered. It had been just the two of them…and well, the babe slumbering in Emmie’s womb, but that was the whole reason for the wedding in the first place, right? 

“You didn’t even invite us to the wedding!” Cassian complained, having suddenly recovered his ability to talk. “You got married and you didn’t tell us?” 

Clearly. 

“And you never thought that that was something we may want to know, Azriel?” Rhys asked, his voice icy but Azirel met the gaze of violet eyes with his own.

“If you believe it or not, I can just about manage my personal relationships or my amorous adventures without the input of you, High Lord,” he drawled. 

There had been no reason to tell anybody. Least of all Rhys. 

“That was not what that was about and you know it,” his brother hissed at him, but Azriel just shrugged.  

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was. 

Maybe it had really just been a political worry for Rhys, but that didn’t mean that what he had done, hadn’t hurt…didn’t mean that he hadn’t pulled rank with Azriel in a way he had only done so very rarely. 

Rhys had gotten what he had wanted in the end. Elain and Lucien had figured it out…Day and Night were closer than ever. 

And Azriel…well, he was still pissed off about what had gone down in Rhys’ office that Solstice. Fucking furious, to be honest.   Even after Embelia had come into his life…even after she had married him. Even after the mating bond had snapped. He loved his wife, but he was still fucking furious about being treated like that. 

Furious and hurt. 

And maybe that had played into his decision as well. 

There was no reason to tell Rhys what happened. No reason whatsoever. 

Rhys must have caught that thought because the shimmer of night started to swirl around him, but Azriel wasn’t scared. He just raised a single eyebrow in question. 

“No reason?” Rhys questioned harshly. “You are the Spymaster of this fucking court, Azriel! You don’t think that maybe I should know who you are cohabiting with? Who you share a bed with? Who you married? How long did you even know this female before you married her?”

“A few months,” he answered drily. “What do you think I talk about when I am with her? Bring up the secrets of the Night Court as Pillow Talk? Oh, I tortured a couple of faes from Hewn City this afternoon, oh, harder, love? ” He questioned with a roll of his eyes.

Feyre choked out a laugh.

Rhys did not find it amusing. 

“Where did you even meet her?” he demanded. 

“Why, Rhys, I just followed your orders. You told me to go to a pleasure hall so I did,” he shot back. He had followed that order to the fucking letter. 

“So she’s a whore,” Rhys said and Azriel just looked at him. 

Embelia wasn’t ashamed of what she had been. Quite frankly, neither was he. She had done what she needed to do to survive. He was never going to give her the fault for that. The fault was on Spring for slaughtering her family and on the Night Court that they hadn’t given better support so that she would have never gotten into a situation like this where that was the only way out. 

But Embelia? She had been a whore. It was a simple fact. And she wore that proudly.  

“She was. Yes,” he agreed and he could see it on Rhys’ face what he thought about that. 

“You ordered Azriel to go to a pleasure hall?” Cassian asked. “Why?” he demanded. 

“Because he fancied himself in love with Elain of all faes and I couldn’t have him bring our court to the brink of war because he couldn’t keep it in his pants!” Rhys growled. “So I told him to go to a pleasure hall and pay for it to get it out of his system.”

“Rhys!” Mor snapped, shock colouring her voice

“Clearly, I was right, because your infatuation didn’t last long after you were told no. How long did it take you until you were in that pleasure hall?” Rhys demanded. “A Day? A week?”

“Around 6 months,” he answered, his voice even. “After it became obvious that Elain was going to give in to Lucien…Once it became obvious that she wasn’t interested in me. Then I started visiting the Pleasure Hall. I married my wife 4 months later.” 

“By the mother, Azriel, did all your good sense leave you?” Rhys asked him, shaking his head.  “What were you thinking?”  he demanded. 

“That I love her,” Azriel said calmly. “I love her,” he repeated. 

“Wow, she must have really been worth the money you spend on her,” Rhys drawled. 

She had been. Every gold coin. Every fucking clipped copper he paid for her company. Everything had been worth it, just for Embelia’s company.  

He didn’t even react to it. He had heard worse. But he could feel his rage grow with ever fucking word Rhys uttered. 

“She is worth more than you will ever understand,”  Azriel said quietly, his voice laced with steel.

Rhys glared at him. And then he said something so utterly inappropriate that the rage exploded. 

“So that’s what you needed all the time? Some pretty female that opens her legs and suddenly she leads you around by your prick?”

It felt like somebody had sucked all the air out of that room. 

Azriel’s blood boiled with anger and hurt, seething inside,  his control barely keeping the darkness at bay.

He wanted to kill Rhys at that moment. He couldn’t remember ever being this angry before. 

Having their relationship reduced to that…

Embelia’s face appeared in his mind, her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her touch. 

His sanity. 

He had made his choices, and he would stand by them. No one, not even Rhys, could make him regret loving Embelia.

“You can say whatever you want about me, but you say a single thing about my wife or my child and I’ll rip out your fucking throat, and don’t think for one moment that I won’t,” he snapped back harshly. “And yes, for the record, she was worth every fucking clipped copper, I spent on her. She was worth everything. I wanted to marry her. I asked her. I made that choice. She has done absolutely nothing but love me .” 

“You got a kid too?!” Cassian piped up. “Az?” he asked and Azriel ground his teeth.

“Yes,” he bit out. 

“How old?” Cassian asked quietly. 

“3 months tomorrow,” Azriel answered honestly. Cassian stared at him, hazel eyes harsh. 

“Boy or Girl?”

“Girl.”

“I got a niece and you haven’t told me?!” Cassian demanded. “How dare you! I owe her three months' worth of gifts and cuddles!”

“Cassian!” Nesta said sharply and Cassian started pouting. 

“Are you sure that the kid is yours?” Rhys drawled. 

He didn’t even bother to answer that question. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood. 

“Home,” he gave back clippedly. “I’d rather walk my daughter to sleep than listen to you insult her mother and ask if she’s actually my daughter.” His voice was dripping with disdain. “Like there ever were any questions about it. She got her mother’s wings and my colouring.”

***

Nobody followed him home. Which was a good thing because Azriel wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood at the moment. He was still furious. Utterly furious. 

Even as he walked through the door of the cottage… right until he saw Embelia sit in the living room, in that overstuffed armchair and nurse their daughter. She looked up as he entered, smiling.

And suddenly, every bit of anger just went up in smoke, because he couldn’t care less. 

Not when his mate was sitting there nursing his daughter, and it was so easy to just cross the room and drop to his knees before her, to let her reach out for him and run a hand over his hair and jaw and he leaned into her touch, breathing in the smell of earth and home and love. 

Home. He was home, he was with her and that was all he cared about. He stared at his daughter, happily drinking…dark eyes closed in concentration, one pudgy little fist pressing against Embelia’s breast, clearly making sure that her source of milk was going nowhere and he pressed a kiss to her downy soft hair, breathing in the combination of scents of himself and Emmie that clung to her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Embelia asked him softly and he just shook his head. No. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to be with his girls. He just wanted to…He just wanted to be right there. 

“You are the best things that ever happened to me,” he whispered hoarsely. 

A gift from the mother herself, and he still wondered every fucking day how he deserved both of them. 

Emmie ran a hand through his curls, staying quiet, as their daughter stopped drinking and he reached out to take her. 

Embelia happily relinquished her hold on her, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek, and a soft touch to their daughter’s wings…iridescent black. 

Her wings. His colouring. 

No question about it. 

He walked her to sleep like he always did when he could be there, pressing her little body tight to his chest, a scarred hand holding her as carefully as she was made out of spun gold. 

Emmie had laughed at him at the start, at how carefully he held her, telling him that she was a baby and would survive it if he kissed and cuddled her. Still, he had been terrified of hurting her. 

She was so small, and his hands were so big and broad and scarred and…

But sometime during the last few weeks, he had realised that his daughter…his daughter would never look at his hands as anything other than the hands that had held her and comforted her. She would grow up with these scars…she probably wouldn’t even notice them. 

They would just be a fact of life to her. 

So he walked her, the slow swaying circles around their living room that he always made to calm her as much as him, as Embelia tidied around the living room, got ready for bed, and made herself comfortable for the night. 

He could hear the bath running as he felt the touch against his mind. It wasn’t Rhys. 

It was Feyre.

He was surprised enough that he let her slide in, just a little bit, and he knew that she caught a glimpse of the baby in his arms as he felt the surprise register. 

“She’s beautiful.” It was nearly a coo in which she said that, much to his amusement and pleasure, taking in the iridescent wings that lay folded over her back. 

“She got it from her mother.”

It was the truth. Embelia was the most beautiful fae he had ever laid eyes on. The kind of beauty wars were fought over, that brought males trembling to their knees…Azriel easily admitted that he also met that particular criteria. 

“You missed a knockdown drag-out fight between Rhys and Cassian…And then Mor and Nesta decided that they should also get a word in.”

That was not what he had expected, to be quite honest. 

He had half expected that he was going to end up taking his wife and his daughter and find someplace else for them to live. 

“Amren stopped them from levelling the city,” Feyre said drily. It should have amused him, but it didn’t. Not really. 

“You should have come to me after that solstice, I would have told Rhys that he was being ridiculous,” Feyre told him drily. “I’ll deal with him. I promise.”

“It’s fine,” he waved her off. It was fine. 

Right now at least. He never could stay angry when he got to be home when he got to hold his daughter. How could he be angry when he got to hold her? 

He didn’t want to be angry when he held her…He just wanted to breathe in her scent and feel every bit of tension bleed out of him.

A snuffling sound came from his daughter, then a heart belch…and her little body relaxed against his, clearly on her way to the land of dreams. 

“No, it’s not, he should have never done that,” Feyre cut him off. “Or talk to you like that for that matter. Neither on Solstice nor today.  I’ll make sure he understands that. It won’t happen again. You can expect an apology tomorrow.” 

Now he was amused. It bled all over Feyre, who just huffed. “What, do you doubt that I can make him apologise?” she challenged him. 

“Of course not, High Lady,” he promised her. If anybody could get Rhys to weaken in his stance, then it would be his mate. And that was exactly why he had never told Feyre, never wanted to bring her into a position where she was in disagreement with her mate. 

“So congrats on that wedding,” Feyre said suddenly. “We owe you a gift or two, I think…Who knows what Mor is gonna come up with…” He could just hold back the snort at that but could feel Feyre’s amusement leech all over his mind. “Can I…” she trailed off, unsure for a moment. “May I see her?” she asked, curious and delighted for him all the same. He could feel that. 

He pushed a memory at her, from that afternoon…of his wife and his daughter in that spring sun, in that flower field,  their wings glittering and fluttering, Embelia’s pink hair falling to her waist in soft waves and curls, their daughter with his dark hair and her wings, curled up in her mother’s arms, grinning gummily at her…Happiness was oozing from every second of that screenshot. 

“You are beyond lucky,” Feyre said quietly. 

“I know.”

He knew that with every fibre of his being. 

“What’s her name?” Feyre wondered. “She’s beautiful.” 

She was. Gorgeous in fact. And that wasn’t just coloured by the fact that she was his wife and his mate…but she was gorgeous. 

“Embelia,” he answered Feyre. “Family calls her Emmie though.” He called her that, some of her friends did as well. It was what she was most comfortable with. 

“And your daughter’s? What’s her name?” Feyre asked. 

It had taken them months to settle on a name, and then finally, it had been so easy. 

“Aster.”

“A Star and a Flower,” Feyre realised with some amusement. 

“Embelia thought it was just fair.” 

[no1deepspacehater]

NSFW ABC's - Xavier !

A/N: Zayne is up next for this one! Minors look away ofc! Also some minor spoilers in letters E and K

Enjoy!

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

Mostly, he’s so ready to sleep, but if that doesn’t fit your needs, he stays up for you. Need a shower? He’ll help you wash up. Something to eat? He’s not the best cook but cereal after sex always hits the spot anyways.

His most preferred aftercare is after a cold shower, you both just cuddle each other to sleep. You’re his favourite teddy bear to hold.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, his arms. Strong and buff from years, and I mean years, of sword practicing. Upper body strength of the Gods, perfect for holding you up with he fucks you against the wall, or just caging you in while you ride him. Grip his arms in any position and he’s beaming.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Moderate amount when he cums BUT he leaks. One stroke and his dick is wet. Prefers to cum inside/with a condom just because it gets sticky and messy, but is SO more than down if you want him to cum anywhere else.

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

While masturbating has accidentally came on one of the plushies you gave him. He fell asleep right after and it left a stain he couldn’t wash out. Said plushie is now hidden away where you’ll never find it, and when you ask him about it he always says he lost it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

SPOILERS FOR HIS LORE!

Ok so here’s my headcanons, he’s either:

Has NEVER had sex because, well, he only wants you. Probably doesn’t watch porn for the same reason. Most knowledge he’s have is conversations with close friends but no hands on work.

HAS had sex before, but with previous lifetimes/timelines of you. Kinda more fun to work with this one because, he’d know all your sensitive spots, even ones you don’t know about. He’d now just how to rile you up and have you seeing literal stars.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

When he has energy or is in that type of mood: variations of missionary, I feel like he’d be into wall sex.

Other than that, as long as your on top of him and he could see your face, he’s happy. Sometimes he’ll let you do your thing while he’s being a little pillow princess, othertimes he’s the one in absolute control even though you’re above him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Always light giggles here and there because you both are being so cute. Sometimes though he’s not serious but he gets in this focused/locked in type of mode when you both are having particularly passionate sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

HEAR ME OUT HERE!! Rarely clean shaven just because he’d literally rather sleep. It’s not a jungle, but definitely had to start keeping it lower when you both do start to get intimate. I’d say once a week at least, once every two weeks at least. Now listen closely, he’s got a happy trail, nobody argue with me. His hair down there is a bit darker/browner than his actual hair, but it’s still pretty light that if you look too fast you’ll miss it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a sappy little alien boy. Always showering you with praises so most of the time you’re a smiling blushing mess, which makes him smile as well. Even when he’s being dominant he’s calling you cute little pet names, anddd he’s got that smug little snark that’s just waiting for you to challenge him so he could show you who really is the most powerful here.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t really do it much because sleep >> anything else. When he does have to release some pent up energy he generally just does it to get it out of the way and falls back asleep. Sometimes falls asleep dick in hand mid stroke.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I feel like he would be into roleplay. It’d take him a while to bring it up, but once he does it kinda helps him to actually express his emotions more in a way? But having you dress up as different things turns him on as well (the maid outfit is not surviving the night).

Also hear me out on this I feel like he’d have a pregnancy kink. (SPOILER: Something about you both living long enough to have a family) You’d just look sexy with a belly to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His or your place, where you can really let go. As for specifics:

The bed, the kitchen counter, the bathroom, the couch, to the windowww to the wall. As long as your both comfortable, he’s so down to screw you anywhere.

But thats not to say you both haven’t gotten... freakaayyy in the staff room closet at work once or twice... or five times.

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

Though he can just hear your name and he’s turned on, he particularly likes when you sass him back or give a little attitude. It’s like a declaration of sexual war between you two and he’s adamant that he wins.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won’t bruise you too hard or hurt you in a serious way (like blood and stuff). He can’t, he just can’t. Hard choking as well is uncomfortable for him.

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

Lives for eating you out/giving head. Even if he’s too tired for penetration he’s got more than enough energy for you to sit on his face and just let him go wild. Or literally he’ll get on his knees and just keep going harder everytime you tug his hair when he’s hitting a sweet spot. Will literally overstimulate you every time because he’s just having so much fun.

As for receiving, he doesn’t ask for it much but would neverrr decline. He twitches so much and constantly has to hold himself back from bucking his hips up and shoving his dick down your throat. Hearing you swallow all of his cum makes him literally orgasm a second time.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast, no, rarely. Slow, sensual, rough in an almost primal like way but still soft? Yes! He needs to feel every bit of you, and make sure you’re feeling every bit of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Appreciative of a good quickie. Though he’s more qeen on having ample time to do with you what he wants, there has been situations where he’s had to pull you to an empty room and set a new world record for the both of you. Sometimes the both of you are at home doing the nasty when you get called to a mission, and then suddenly it’s a race for time lol.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If it’s for you, he’ll try anything (within reason). He is a risk taker as well, because really to him it’s not a risk if he’s going to succeed anyway. Just has to make sure he’s thought of every outcome and weighed out the pros vs cons, which he can decide very quickly when you’re looking at him like that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Depends on how much time between the rounds. After round one, let him take a quick nap and he’s back on it like white on rice. Anything more than that will require a full day of sleeping with cuddles with you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I feel like personally he never bothered with toys, but would not be opposed to use one on you. It’s like having another way to satisfy you (and tease you endlessly). He likes to feel your touch rather than a toy but he’s okay with anything you want mostly.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s such a switch, honestly. One day he’s begging for you and the next he’s making YOU beg until you literally can’t handle it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man is a moaner and whimperer. He tries to hold it back mostly so it’s a lot of hot whimpering and mumbling at first but keep riling him up he’ll get louder. Says your name like a prayer always.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 Turns your plushies around before you guys have sex, all of them. He says he doesn’t want to taint their innocence.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick in diameter, average sized in length. Definitely a shower but it’s pretty like him in every way anyway. Has one (1) prominent vein that hits just right. Colour just slightly darker than his skin colour (he’s pretty pale so) but tip is a light pink (#E6C5AD, if you will). Turns more red as he’s about to cum/is stroking or whatever. Yes I have thought a lot about this.

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

Having to wait lifetimes for your lover can leave you pretty wanting at times. That being said Xavier doesn’t really indulge in himself too often, and he’s quite the sleeper so in general it’s pretty low. But it can lead to some fun times where he’s just teasing you forever.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Like a LIGHT. After proper aftercare he is ready for the nap of his life.

[freak-accident419]

Make Me

Joosh Futturman (J-Futz) x GN!Reader

Summary: You come by Joosh’s house a year since you’ve broken up with him, after realizing you left your box of important belongings there. Seeing each other again after a long time sparked not only bitterness and resumed arguments, but also unresolved tension.

WC: 3.7k

Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, no specific genitals mentioned (vague penetration), more plot than porn (you can tell I do that a lot.. i’m a storyteller, what do you expect?), takes place during S01E12 “Prelude to an Apocalypse”—you may have to watch this episode especially to understand the ending, hate/angry/rough sex, sort of fluff by the end, a bit silly and unserious sometimes because Joosh/J-Futz is such an unserious concept :3

(A/n: I love bad boy Josh (Joosh). Anyways, I’d like to share something that maybe you might appreciate—I’d like to think that in Season 3, nut-face Josh also brings this timeline version of you to Haven, to save you from how shitty Joosh treated you, so yeah.)

-

“Fucking shit, where is it?” You muttered to yourself, digging out your closet, drawers, and under your bed. But you couldn’t find it anywhere.

You had a small, antique box full of things that meant a lot to you: polaroids, souvenirs, trinkets, and old letters. You only just remembered about it now, because while you were speaking to a lifelong friend, they brought up the matching friendship bracelet that you kept ever since grade school. And while it was old and would barely even fit you, it was treasure to you—it meant so much to you.

That led you to remember all the other important and nostalgic things you’ve kept in that memory box. But you couldn’t find the actual box itself.

Which then made you realize sourly…

That if it wasn’t at your place…

Then it was at your ex’s.

It was a messy break up. Terrible, rushed, and chaotic. So much so, that you forgot to even take the significant box with you as you finally moved out of his house.

You groaned in frustration. It wasn’t even that important or worth it to retrieve, right? If you forgot about it for a year, it shouldn’t be that important.

However, it was filled with memories… Ancient baby photos of yourself, your parents, friends, then friendship bracelets, rings, gifts, handwritten letters. And what if your ex finds it? Who knows what he would do with all your personal stuff?

So, you decided. You needed to get it back. Even if it meant seeing your ex-boyfriend again:

Joosh Futturman.

***

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.” Joosh spat as you stood on his front porch.

“Oh, save it, Joosh,” you say dismissively. He looked just about the same as you left him; a cocky and pissed off expression on his face, the small gold earring on his right ear, and the shitty, pretentious fashion choices. “I just left something important here. I forgot all about it because I was in a rush to leave. I don’t know how I forgot it after all these months, just… fuck, let me go get it and this’ll be the last time you’ll ever see me again.”

He glared at you for a while, observing you. This was the first time he’s seen you ever since you (rightfully) broke up with him. And you haven’t changed one bit.

He hated how no matter how much he believed he despised you, he still thought you were beautiful.

He shook his head to avoid that thought. “For the last fucking time, it’s J-Futz,” he corrected bitterly, which you would roll your eyes at. When you were still together, you were his exception. He hated whenever people called him Joosh instead of J-Futz because it triggered bad memories within him, but the way you said it was always like pure honey, no matter how ridiculous of a name it was. You two were aware that this exception wouldn’t apply anymore now that you’re broken up, but you continue to call him his real name out of spite.

After a brief moment of silence, Joosh decided to accept your proposal. “Fine, just… make it quick.”

It was definitely the moment you walked in that you knew: it was on. You hoped this encounter wouldn’t end with a messy argument again, but you already felt the tension in the atmosphere.

You still knew the house pretty well. You waltzed in, walking up the staircase to Joosh’s room, and kneeled by the bed, finally rummaging under it for your missing box. It took a while, since he ended up having a lot of junk under his bed, yet he acted so blamelessly impatient. “What’s taking so long?” He finally asked in irritation.

You scoffed, continuing to push other objects away. “Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who made this harder by putting all of your goddamn junk just stuffed under your bed.”

“Oh, please. I could easily get this all organized and cleaned up in less than an hour by any one of those guys who work for me,” he brazenly claimed, with an arrogant hinge of pride.

“You think that’s something you should be proud of?” You sneer, continuing to look through the mess. “Yeah, right, well, if anything, it’s just proving to me more how much of a careless, incompetent, lazy, man child of an asshole you are.”

“‘Lazy’? ‘Careless’? ‘Incompetent’? Are you hearing yourself, Y/n?” He scowled. “I am one of the most successful people on the planet. There is a reason why I’m rich and famous and admired. I am an entrepreneur, a CEO, an e-gaming sensation. And on top of that, I have a net worth of over six million euros.” You scoffed. You weren’t impressed or intimidated by any of this. “Take that for incompetent.”

You were just about fed up with this absurdly egotistical, selfish bastard. You popped your head out from under the bed and stood up, walking towards him until you were right in front of him. You wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid face. “You know what? No. You’re just a self-obsessed asshole. You think that everyone admires you, but actually, everyone hates you. You—Your old ‘friends’ work for you and are obligated to please you because at the end of the day, you control their pay checks. They don’t actually like you. No one would. You’re a pathetic man, Joosh. All you’ve ever done was use and hurt people.”

There was an aggravated expression on his face, insinuating that you got to him—that your words got to him.

“Do you really think that I care about any of that? None of that shit matters to me as long as I’m wealthy and successful. My life is fucking awesome, and it’s even better now that I don’t have a nagging bitch being all up on my ass all the time.”

What he said barely affected you, but you wanted to add on anyways. “You know, I cannot fucking believe I fell in love with you,” you said, trying to hide any underlying sadness with your anger. “You used to be so good. You know that? But then you got greedy because money and fame just blinded you, and now you became a fucking asshole. For—For fuck’s sake, you put your parents into a shitty senior home after declaring them mentally incompetent through a court order!”

“Goddammit, Y/n, you’re the one who broke up with me!” He snarled. “Do you know how much shit the press gave me for that?”

You roll your eyes. How could he only care about his status still? “Of course you only care about your public image—”

“Okay, fuck, it hurt me too, okay? You hurt me. When you broke up with me, I had the worst damn weeks of my life.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s real funny,” you scoff at his illogicality. “Are you that fucking dense? I broke up with you because you changed! You had a little breakthrough in e-gaming, and then the hangers-on rushed in, and then fame and money—including your Uncle Barry’s money—started to corrupt you. You’re—you’re seriously trying to be the victim here? Do you know how many times you fucked up in our relationship after that?” Your blood boiled as you continued. “I—You’re insufferable! I seriously don’t know how I spent—” You corrected yourself, “I wasted three years with you.”

“Yeah? You took years out of my life too, Y/n. You know what, actually, just go get your shit so you can leave, and shut the fuck up,” he replied sternly.

“Actually, no, I don’t think I will. In fact, I should just remind you how you are the most egotistical, selfish, most narcissistic asshole on the goddamn planet! You are fucking incorrigible!” You exclaim, your voice coarse.

“I said shut up,” he huffs, stepping towards you threateningly.

“And I hate how much you believe that your money and fame is everything—is your fucking shitty solution for everything.”

“Y/n, stop that before you might say something you’ll regret.”

“Well, you know what, Joosh? You can have all the money in the world, and all the goddamn sponsors and magazine covers and press conferences, and shit, mass productions of your shitty energy drink, but… You’re gonna die alone.”

“Fucking shut up!”

“Yeah? Why don’t you fucking make me!” You retort.

Joosh suddenly pressed his lips on yours roughly, grabbing at the back of your neck to bring you in closer. You gasped the second he did this in surprise, but immediately kissed him back, feeling his tongue run against yours.

While he proceeded to make out with you, he walked forward until he pushed you down on his bed, barely giving the two of you any time to breathe before he presses his lips to yours once more.

“You never know when to fucking shut up, do you?” He grumbles lowly in your lips, placing a firm hand on your hip.

You pant heavily. “Yeah, then how about you stop giving me more reasons to complain about you, asshole?” You retort, moving your lips with his roughly, tongues fiercely mashing against each other.

From the moment you appeared at his doorstep, there was a sort of aggravating tension, which you would then realize was sexual, fueled solely by anger and resentment. It’s been more than a year since you’ve last seen him, more than a year since you two even had sex. You didn’t know what drove you to reciprocate his actions once he kissed you, or rather, you didn’t want to admit it.

Joosh threw off his jacket, then lifted his shirt off of his body, reminding you of what used to be one of your favorite things about him: his left nipple piercing.

Coming out of your trance, you mimic his actions, slightly lifting your back off the mattress so that you could remove your own shirt. You two finally discarded all your clothing in a rush until you were both completely naked against each other.

Joosh’s hand went on your side, then trailed down to your ass, then to the back of your thigh as he began to leave harsh kisses and bites on your neck, making you breathe faster.

“I fucking hate you,” he said piercingly in between kisses.

You chuckle sarcastically. “See, that’s the worst part of it all: you don’t even mean that.”

You knew your ex-boyfriend well enough to know that it would take more than a breakup and a couple of insults to get him to fully hate you. Especially while he barely detested you, regardless of everything.

He moved his head from your neck to face you. “Fine, what, you wanna know the truth? I hate that I still fucking love you.” He scowled, which caught you off guard. He placed his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open.”

You sucked his fingers off once they penetrated your mouth, sensually running your tongue along his digits. You didn’t expect him to say that now, that he still loved you, but you weren’t surprised either. The two of you had a very complicated relationship. Knowing him before his fame impacted the connection you two had; simply put, you knew him well. And you knew him well enough to be able to tell if he still loved you, which he did. You two knew each other well enough to still love each other.

After a while, he finally took his fingers out of your mouth, essentially using your saliva as a lubricant as he rubbed at your entrance vigorously, getting a soft, pleasured gasp out of you.

“A-and what, you think I don’t as well?” You huffed in response. You couldn’t lie to yourself either—you still loved him too. “I loathe it.”

Joosh sneered as he spit in his hand, pumping his cock, letting out a few, quiet grunts. “I hate that you came here today.”

”And I hate that I had always been desperate for your sad, below-average co—“ You let out a sharp inhale as you felt his entire length slide into you resistlessly.

“Yeah, but you take it anyway, don’t you?” he replied arrogantly with utmost vulgarity, beginning to move lustfully inside you.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” you say, however, immediately becoming distracted from all the sensational feelings. You gulped a moan, glaring into his dark eyes. “Fuck, don’t even think that this means anything. I’m practically using you,” you grumble.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied.

Joosh had his hands gripping your hips as he thrusted into you, already at a quick pace, practically jerking his hips into yours with low grunts and huffs of breath. His cock deliciously stretched and caressed your walls at an artful rhythm.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, making you look up at the wall decor behind you, in which big, light up letters spelt out ‘SIN’. You let out quiet moans each time he pounded deeply into you, instinctively wrapping your legs around him to bring him even closer. His grip moved onto your thighs to support your legs, getting at an even better angle as his fingers dug into your skin. “Fuck… I really hate how you’re the only person in this world that knows exactly w-where and how to make me feel good,” you mutter as you look back at him.

The lewd, wet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, alongside heavy breaths and moans beginning to increase. “And I hate that even after everything, I still want you. That I could get anyone I want with my status, but they’ll never be as good as you…” He let out a dark chuckle. “Look at you, so fucking needy for me…”

He pulled out, resulting in a whine escaping your lips, until he aggressively flipped you over on your stomach, making you take it from the back. His head is beside yours on the pillow as he let out soft moans, moving quickly into you, hitting all the right spots. It was like he remembered every little thing that kept you pleasured. You actually wouldn’t be surprised if he genuinely did.

The thing is, Joosh had always been a sweetheart. He was kind, considerate, and generous, all traits taught to him by his sweet parents. It wasn’t until after the fame where he began to rot.

Hell, you two used to make love. Then after, it was all quickies and straight up fucking.

So you couldn’t understand how or why he still loved you, but you know he does.

You moaned louder, feeling his fingertips digging into the skin of your hips as he pulled you towards him with every rough thrust.

“I hate that no matter how much of an asshole and jerk you’ve been, I’m still willing to forgive you,” you mutter.

Joosh moved his head to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and then attacked your neck with even rougher kisses as he continued to move inside you. He kept confusing you with his brief moments of tenderness. “And I hate that we both know that you deserve better.”

You panted heavily as half of your face was pressed against the pillow. ��Yeah, but you don’t even fucking try to work on yourself, knowing this fact.”

His hips stuttered as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. “You know me. I can’t change.”

You let out a soft gasp as you felt a sharp, deep thrust from him. “You can’t or you won’t?”

You hear his moans become more desperate and high pitched, his pace becoming inconsistent. His cock slid seamlessly inside you, bringing the two of you to become more vocal. While he let one of his hands remain on your hip, he moved his other one to grip the bed frame tightly, fucking into you even deeper.

“O-oh, f-fuck!” You whimper intensely as he continues to mercilessly pound into you, spilling out all the anger he felt from seeing you today, in which your presence reminded him of how messy the breakup was. Your whines became louder as he ruthlessly gripped your hip and pulled onto the bed frame to easily push you against his dick with each thrust.

“You talk about me being selfish and self-seeking all the time, as if you aren’t taking all of my fucking dick for your own pleasure,” he grumbles. You didn’t have a witty comeback for that—you were far too focused on how good you felt. Which sort of implied he was right, in some way.

Joosh let out louder grunts and slight moans, which was unsynchronized with the obscene, raucous sounds of lewd plaps of his consistent penetration. Plap, plap, plap, it would turn the both of you on even more.

“You’re just as pathetic as I am, Y/n,” he said coldly.

You felt so close to your climax, and as his thrusts became more stuttered, you could tell Joosh was as well.

“Fuck you, Joosh.”

He violently pushed into you deeply as your lips parted for a loud, torrid moan to escape your mouth, fingernails digging into the thick sheets as you came hard around his cock. Not even another thrust after, your ex-boyfriend came, making sure his dick was deeply and fully into you once his semen precipitously spilled inside of your body through exuberant spurts. His voice was high pitched and desperate, and you could swear you heard your name leave his lips in a small whisper.

He pulled out of you afterwards, rolling off your body as he breathed heavily, resting on his side as he faced the edge of the bed.

You turned to lay on your side, only to see his back facing you.

The atmosphere wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t calm either. It was sort of awkward in a way. You two were still exes after all. An entire minute has passed, of silence and heavy panting, the two of you catching your breaths from all that energy you just released. Most of the words that were exchanged earlier weren’t exactly true. It was moreso getting out all your anger and bitterness of the past, so that you could have a civil, compassionate talk later about your feelings and the state of the relationship.

Soon enough, you scooted towards him, then placed a deliberate, gentle kiss on his shoulder. Your fingertips began to mindlessly trace his back tattoo, which spelled out ‘J Futz’. He seemed to appreciate it, your touch.

Your finger traced over the ‘F’ on his back. “I want to make this work,” you murmured.

“I know,” you heard him say shamefully as your fingertip caressed along the lines of ink.

“But I don’t want you to change for me. I want you to change for yourself.”

He turned around to face you, soft, brown eyes meeting yours. It was like a part of his old self was still in there.

“I’m sorry… For everything,” he finally says.

“Me too.”

***

Joosh was in the shower while you were in the kitchen, eating a small snack, back to being fully clothed. You stared at your keepsake box that you finally found, which was now sitting on the dining table in front of you—he even helped you find it actually, while even criticizing his own lack of organization.

You two agreed to take things slow, followed by you encouraging him to make some reparations, probably starting with his parents first. Ultimately, he was going to work on himself—not just for you and the people he loved, but for himself, as you said.

You took a bite out of your snack, and then slightly flinched as you saw Joosh in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, wow. That was fast,” you observed. When he said he was going to take a quick shower, you didn’t know he was that literal about it. Especially since he sort of sucked at keeping his word.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Joosh was still in the shower, as you initially expected. The man in front of you would be Josh, basically your ex, but from another timeline. Ever since he was recruited by soldiers Tiger and Wolf of 2162, they were consistently fucking with the past through time travel, and the trio’s interferences only just created new realities, such as yours.

When Josh came back to 2017 after the 80s, he discovered that he was popular, that he was a rich celebrity, loved amongst everyone. However, it nearly broke his heart once he heard from Tracy and Paul that you dumped him—or, well, Joosh—the past year. The thing was, that no matter how many times he tampered with the timeline (for example, Lamar Price’s Blapple and the disappearance of Ray), you still remained his partner when he would come back to the present. So now, knowing that he allegedly screwed things up with you in this reality, then on top of that, finding out his parents despise him, he began to become disappointed by what he thought was going to be a great life for him.

He was confused, seeing you eat at the kitchen table, clearly unbothered by him. “Y/n?” His voice was higher pitched, reminding you of your Joosh before he was corrupted.

“Um, yeah?” You asked. “Did you even take a shower? Now I’m confused.” You look at his ear. “And you took off your earring.”

“Oh, um, yeah, and no, not yet, I—” Josh was very much confused. Didn’t his friends tell him how the two of you broke up? Were they wrong?

“You don’t look too hot,” you say, grabbing your box and walking over to him. “Thank you, Joosh. For, um… for finally listening to and understanding me. I know we’re both not perfect, but… I just… I’m glad we were able to… to talk this out.”

You look down at your box and then at him, who had an absentminded look on his face that you didn’t recognize. “I have to go now. Let’s talk more tomorrow, okay?” You press a soft kiss to Josh’s cheek, then made your way out the door.

What in the hell just happened?

Josh was befuddled, but also sort of relieved. Maybe he would be able to patch things up with you. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fix things with his parents after that encounter with his dad. Actually, he was still stressed out about that. Your idea for him to take a shower didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

That is, until he was met with this reality’s version of himself in the bathroom.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Say have you done any ryusei headcanons yet?🤔 *wink wink nudge nudge*

I haven't yet so here they are!

He has a very infectious laugh, just the kind of laugh that you can't help but smile at.

Is actually good at hairdressing, he used to play with his mother's hair a lot as a kid and she taught him a lot. (Chifuyu refuses to ever trust him again though)

He's always willing to help people out and encourage others, even people he doesn't know.

Gets a lot of confession letters while in school

He actually tries really hard during school and puts the work in but he pretends he doesn't 

Never stops calling Peke J by the name Ronaldinho (which he chose because of the legendary footballer Ronaldinho)

Had sleepovers with Kojiro a lot while growing up

Is gifted with learning languages 

Both him and his mum are into fashion, they go on shopping trips together 

Likes the smell of perfume a lot, notices when people are wearing some.

Has his eye mask with him everywhere he goes

Sometimes he'll give Chifuyu weird nicknames just to annoy him

Is scared of dogs because he was bitten by one as a kid

One of his favourite things to do is to tease people, if he ever gets in a relationship he'll do the same to his partner

Is a good cook

His dream is to be a professional football player 

He helps his mum with the shop a lot

Has kicked a football and hit Chifuyu in the face at least once

Is good at drawing (though purposely draws Chifuyu badly whenever he asks)

Has a bit of a habit of being late

And finally, he's very good with all types of people. He's just naturally a people person, everyone just takes a shine to him.

[azereus]

König x reader x horangi hcs plspslpss 🥺💗💗💗

LOVE YOU POOKS

Cement eater requests characters I don't write for smh 😒 /j

Warnings: ooc? Maybe? No pronouns, only you ^^ also kinda long?? Had alot of ideas and wanted this to be at least okay lol-

Writing under the cut!!

Horangi! is a dogshit cook as he is a gambler. You and König cook - if you can't cook then just König does it

König! absolutely loves cooking for you and Horangi either way though. he adores seeing the two of you enjoy his cooking. It makes his heart happy

Both of them are very much touched-starved. I'm sorry. I don’t make the rules for dating them

Horangi! enjoys hugging you from behind any chance he gets. Treating you as his own personal charger - head in the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist and everything. Also can and will smother you when cuddling just by laying on top of you like a giant cat

König! is more tamer with how he shows his affection. Simple touches are enough for him - holding your hand is enough to satisfy him. It lets him know that you're still here with them. With him

Horangi! gets you any stuffed animals that you show the slightest interest in - even though he sometimes gets jealous if you show the plushies any affection

König! fucking hates them depending on how much affection you give those stuffed animals. He wouldn't consider himself a jealous person. But he, infact, is a jealous person

If he was a piece of crap then he'd throw them away. But he doesn't, because you, Horangi, or someone else spent money on those and you probably are attached to them already so- He'd be fighting a losing battle either way

Both of them write you and eachother letters- well, actually König writes poems and Horangi writes letters in how much he loves you and König so much. He's like a high-school girl when he writes them. Horangi picked it up from König after he saw him writing you something in german once

If you show interest in learning their language(s) or ask them directly to teach you, they'll teach you, happily even. Expect the pet names to increase tenfold afterwards

Cuddling with them is very helpful when it's cold. They're your personal heaters at this point because the amount of body heat they have is ridiculous

Normally cuddling with both of them is having König on one side and Horangi on the other with you in the middle. If it's just two of you, it's basically the same thing with one less person half of the time. The other half is with you laying on top of König or Horangi laying on you like a cat

Horangi! is 100% an affectionate biter. Can and will bite you and König's arm(s) and leave small indents that normally fade away afterwards - not even suggestive, he just likes biting his partners

König! shows his affection through making you something, mostly through cooking because, as mentioned before, he loves cooking for the both of you and always tries to make something new for the two of you to enjoy

Overall, you three are in a very healthy and happy relationship and if polyamorous marriage was legal, they'd marry you

[sunthyme]

Okay, now is technically the last one before my prefect design lol. OOPS I FORGOR fuck well here they finally are lol...

😭Other Side Characters😭

I drew so many cutie patooties in this batch omg they're adorable. But first we'll kick off with the Royal Blade characters!

🐱Chenya🐱

Because I'm not spelling out his whole damn name 💀

(he/she/they/it/ whatever pronouns you can think of lol) Genderqueer - Pansexual

Teehee I forgot to colour in the damn hair clips... I'm gonna kms /j

- Genderqueer cat. Any character based on the Cheshire Cat is genderqueer to me istg. Chenya is no exception.

- I kept most of her design the same but added in some heterochromia for funsies and used those colours for the hair clips and earrings. Xe is also Hispanic, idk it just felt right.

- Totally has ADHD. The impulsive thoughts are obvious with this one and I think that Neige serves as its impulse control. They made like, a pact of sorts (after their Headmage yelled at Chenya for doing something) that Chenya tells Neige whatever the impulsive thought is and Neige either tell Chenya 'No, you can't do that' or 'We can do this instead'.

- Broke asf. I dunno but I feel like Chenya has like the worst habit of impulse buying you've ever seen so they never carry money on they to try and avoid it at Trey and Riddle's recommendation. It's mostly worked as Neige buys anything Chenya needs when they go out anyways.

Speaking so much of Neige,

🐦Neige LeBlanche🐦

(he/him) Transmasc - Biromantic Asexual

God I love how Neige came out, look at him!!! He's such a cutie patootie omgomg I love him sm

- Anyways, I was fighting my demons to not make him black and I lost. I dunno, we don't have enough sweet, cute black boys in media and that is a crime.

- I gave him some hairclips with cute lil charms on them and some of those silly little acne patches. Idk if he actually has acne, he totally could, but I think he'd wear them either way to like normalise not be ashamed of it, y'know?

- I gave him some cute little apple earrings which were a gift that Rook gave him after a concert with one of his letters lol. He wears most of the jewelry gifted to him at one point or another but he really likes the apple earrings.

- Has a crush on Vil. Idk how popular of a headcanon that is but as soon as they interacted, I felt like it made sense. I love the one-sided rivalry lmao with Vil hating his ass and he's just like, 'Omg, she's so pretty and cool and smart. Wow, I'm so glad we get to work together so much!' It's really funny ngl.k

- Loves to crochet, knit, and sew. All are kinda skills he picked up while caring for the dwarves but they're his favourite to do. He's made Chenya a few sets of mittens (because for some super mysterious reason, they always go missing) and a quilt at some point.

- Likes anything with apples in it, pies, drinks, you name it. Fall is his favourite season because of apple cider alone (otherwise it'd be spring).

Onto the Kingscholars!

🦁Cheka Kingscholar🦁

(he/him)

He's so cute!!! I love him omg I'd actually love to babysit him look at those eyes

- I kept his design also pretty on model, darken his skin a smidge and textured his hair to match Leona's. Smacked some dimples and birthmarks on as if he wasn't cute enough already.

- The gold eyeliner is like a royal thing, maybe be specific to the crown line or maybe Leona's just too fcking lazy, probably the later.

- He's actually really good at chess. He's played many games with Leona, even though he didn't get it at first, but now he can beat most people who play him (still not Leona lest he really screws up something). Most of his birthdays, he gets a new pretty chess set and he has a little display of them in his room.

Now for his dad! The only character here without a canon design (as far as I know... which I'm upset about).

👑Farena Kingscholar👑

(he/him) - Heterosexual

I woulda also made a design for his wife but I don' think she even has a name?? So maybe in the future.

- I based him more on Leona, trying to make sure that Cheka didn't just get his trait lmao. I think that he got his piercing actually after Leona got his because the palace staff were criticising him for it so Farena went and got one.

- I dunno, he's giving bi wife energy. It helps that the women of Sunset Savannah are buff and cool and I'm so mad we never saw them 😭😭😭 I wanna see Leona's sister-in-law so bad ;^;.

- He's not as much into the intellectual side of things like Leona is, would rather defeat people with strength which is why the two really don't get along super well. Though I think it's only perceived on Leona's side, I don't think Farena realises how much hurt Leona's had throughout his life.

- Angst aside, he doesn't get much in the way of free time what with all his royal duties and such. His favourite activities are spoiling his family and getting used as a weight for his wife's daily exercise!

We got even more other family characters incoming...

🐍Najima Viper🐍

(she/her) - Bicurious

Fair warning, I haven't encountered any of the last three characters lol.

- I didn't change much here either, just added some red streaks to her hair and matched her palette to Jamil's.

- I don't know if her age is ever implied but I think she'd be younger than him by like a year. She went to a different school with Kalim's cousin (who they're like besties).

- I feel like Najima didn't get the same set of exceptions set on her growing up and so her relationship with the Al-Asims, while still not necessarily healthy, was nowhere near as damaging. I think that while Jamil definitely envies that, he'd rather die than make her go through the same thing as him.

Up next,

🧢Mama Spade🧢

(she/her) - Bisexual

Never met her either 😭😭😭

- I based her off my Deuce design and really just added some more piercings. I actually toned down the blonde streaks but I think they'd both have just a few.

- I believe she has a small business??? Or something? I didn't read the wiki but her hat had a delivery service me thinks but I stan her having a small business.

- She loves her son very much and was super excited when she saw his new piercings. Also, super accepting when he came out, obvi and thinks that while Ace is a bit of a rascal, they do click together.

I don't have a ton for her but I want that event to come back pleaseeee 🙏🙏🙏

🐉Meleanor Draconia🐉

(she/they) Agender - Aromantic Pansexual

- I had so much fun with her horns. I made them more branchy and I think a full grown dragon (well, like an old one) would basically have a web of antlers. I added some purple to the tips for the 🌸aesthetic🌸.

- Also added some wave to her hair. Malleus looked in her spitting image so I figured I'd give Levan's genes a chance lmao. They're also super tall, probably even taller than Mal herself and especially with the horns.

- I think she'd have left some things that Malleus ended up growing up with not realising they were from her, like a hair clasp, some assorted jewelry, a couple toys and items that Lilia gave him when he was old enough. Pieces of her for him to grow up with, y'know?

Anyways, I'm so sorry for this posting without anything lmao I was real tired last night! Prefect is next on the chopping block!

[presleyluvschris]

The Drawer

pairing(s): jj maybank x pouge!reader

i think this is an imagine/blurb

requests are open 🫶🏼

enjoy 🤍

------------------------------------------------------- authors note you were searching around in the chateau for the keys to the twinkie, but you happen to stumble upon a drawer of love letters towards one girl in particular.

word count: 566 (sorry its short!)

warnings: fluff, language, grammar

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

"okay john b, geez, im coming!" you shuffle around the chateau looking in every cabinet and drawer. "where the hell did pope put the keys?"

you sigh and toss beer bottles out of your way trying to look for where these dumbass boys keep their things at, because you, john b, and kie were all supposed to be going surfing for the day.

"are you sure its in here?" you ask

"positive." john b folds his arms to the back of his head.

you look endlessly around, but you cant find the keys. so, after you made your rounds through the entire place, you decide to check the last room you were sure it wouldn't be in, but you had no other option. you creaked open the door to big john's office, thank god it was unlocked.

You take a step in and begin searching through the drawers and lifting maps and papers.

you place your hand on another drawer and pull it open its cool handle to find a bunch of little pieces of very recklessly folded paper.

"probably more ripped maps or something", you say to yourself.

you rustle through the paper and unfold it, to find a letter written in sloppy handwriting, that adresses your name.

you furrow and cock your head in confusion trying to read what its saying.

then your heart skips a beat.

it was a love letter, from jj.

multiple, actually.

you kept reading through it and it made your eyes water from all of the sweet things he said in the little peices of paper.

it made you warm and fuzzy but almost excited and and full of butterflies at the same time.

he had written letters to you for when you are sad, one for when you are happy, and in that one particularly, he wouldn't stop talking about your smile, and how it lit up.

you softly smile and press your pointer finger to your lips and laugh.

after you read some of them, you wiped a tear away from your eyes, chuckled, and left the room to find the keys in john b's couch the entire time. you roll your eyes, someone must have sat on them.

that night, you and the pogues were all sitting by the fire, per usual, sipping beers and laughing.

sarah said something that made you laugh, and jj glanced at you and smiled, and then looked down at his boots.

you notice jj looking, and you turn your attention to the blonde boy.

"what is it, j?" you ask

"your smile."

"how it lights up my whole face? i know, you never shut up about it in that note."

his mouth slightly opens in shock and he begins to blush

"how did you-"

"just, shut up."

you smile and lean over to press your lips to his. it was a passionate, and free kiss. he kisses you back with an equal amount of love.

you pull away and gaze up at his eyes while the flames of the fire radiate on both of you.

butterflies swarmed in your stomach and up your throat, making you giggle like a little girl, as he tucked a piece of hair that fell from your face back behind your ear.

laughter from your friends echoed. It felt like you were the only girl in the world at that moment.

"i have my ways."

[manic-pixie-aquarius]

So I'm doing a season 3 rewatch and I've noticed some things (some ramblings about 3x01)

1. Hopper goes to Joyce and makes her write the heart-to-heart to Mike and El, nothing super significant about that alone (and of course Hopper actually ends up writing his own letter). I just think it's interesting how later on Will is the one to create a heart-to-heart "from El" to Mike... The Byers are always solving everyone else's problems lol, I love them but babe you needa focus on yourself and your happiness too😭

2. Also, when the party + El and Max are going up the hill to use Cerebro to talk to Suzie, Dustin mentions that Suzie is Mormon. He explains that: "her parents would never approve. It's all a bit Shakespearean. Like Romeo and Juliet. Star crossed lovers". I thought this was interesting because you could say the same about Mike and Will being gay in the 80's in a small town where being in a gay relationship does seem forbidden. And when Dustin says, "her parents would never approve" El is cut off from the frame... Idk the fact that she's the only one out of frame is interesting to me, especially since she's clinging right onto Mike's arm the whole scene. Instead, the two people in the back of the group who aren't engaging in the conversation are Mike and Will. Then she comes back into frame when Dustin mentions Romeo and Juliet. Now the thing about Romeo and Juliet is that it's regarded as a romantic tale, but I disagree with that perspective honestly... R + J love for each other is so intense and passion filled that they ignore everything else, even important things like family and other responsibilities. Their love is destructive, kind of like Mike and El's love. In Hopper's letter he mentions that he misses when he and El would spend time together and is feeling her distance because of her new relationship. Similar to how Will, Lucas, and Dustin recount that Mike is being super distant and annoying because he is neglecting the group to makeout with El all the time. Max opposes them by stating "It's romantic". Max is also the person who's been in the group the shortest amount of time, the boys who have known Mike since childhood state, "It's gross" and "it's bullshit". Mike is severely neglecting his friendships in the name of love, El is doing the same to her paternal figure.

3. Another thing I love about this season is how Lucas is quick to call out Mike on his bs. When Mike makes the excuse of "I was spending romantic time with my girlfriend" Lucas says "Yeah well I'm spending romantic time with MY girlfriend" (whilst still spending time with his friends) But it's also funny because Lucas is insinuating that this theater going experience is romantic, like everyone has pointed out by now, this was essentially a Byler + Lumax double date (like this scene didn't HAVE to happen, they could've waited until Dustin got back to see a movie together, and once Dustin does return we already see how neglectful Mike is being towards everyone. So, what was the point of this whole mall movie theater scene...well to establish the mall setting and the new characters, thats first and foremost, but it was also to show that Mike is still trying to at least put in some effort into his relationship to Will. It shows that he still cares and is at least kindaa keeping his promises from the previous season (making sure his best friend is feeling safe).

4. The hand grab Joyce does to Hopper to reassure him... Byler heart-to-heart vibes...

Question: Why aren't there more Nancy and Mike scenes when they share the same passion of writing???

Anyways this episode is just so funny honestly, I love how angry Hopper gets at Mike. All their scenes together in every season are so good. We missed out on those in season 4, I hope we get some more in s5

[kanmom51]

JK on Bruontheradio - coming soon

*Disclaimer: This post came out way longer than I initially intended it to be, and is a little bit of a brain fart. You have been warned, lol.

Josh “Bru” Brubaker

Love how even with this we have Jimin reference.

JK just cannot help himself.

He did tell us "the love of my life".

And what about the first thing that JK shows us is this:

Bad lighting he probably didn't really count on, but yes, his hand tattoos.

And I know there will be those that will say: "he's showing us ARMY", but I say it's a double for him, cause man ain't stupid, he knows fans will go crazy he's showing ARMY, and at the same time I believe he's showing the JM tattoo as well. You know, the JM that did the exact same kind of clip before him. The JM that spent 5 days WITH HIM in NY (and CT). The JM that is his "love of my life". That JM.

Same JM that @andy-wm wrote a beautiful post about just a few hours ago:

Ok, so I guess I'm going to talk about this here, even though I will probably repeat it many times to come.

Seven for JK is about love not fucking.

There. I said it.

And why do I bring this up here?

Because of the hand he so graciously showed us.

Because of JK's JM tattoo.

Because of said tattoo's placement.

Ring finger. For all to see.

How long have we known the J over the M stood for JM?

Us Jikookers?

I'd say since forever.

It's the rest of the fandom that kept trying to find excuses why it wasn't. Why it stood for everything under the sun other than the obvious. The one person that JK puts above others. The one person JK has been showing for years now that is special to him, in a way that is way beyond even the best of friendships. When you tattoo someone's name on you that is a statement. You are literally branding yourself with their name till the day you die (yes you can erase tattoos, but when you are having a tattoo done that is not what you are thinking of, in that moment in time you are painting your skin for life).

And JK did that. One sided.

He also made sure to let us know that the theories running around for years about what that J meant (you know, the army and J means all the members bullshit) were crap. Yes, he didn't tell us out loud that the J placed over the M stood for JM, but he didn't deny it either. He omitted that. Which is understandable given they are still a closeted couple and we all know that admitting to that, would be admitting to their queerness. As much as JK wants out of the closet, as much as he wants to scream blue murder that JM is his and his alone, he won't do it as long as JM isn't ready. And saying the JM is Jimin out loud, that would be outing not only himself but also the love of his life, when said love of his life is not ready for that yet. So he said the J stands for Jungkook and moved on at the speed of lightening. Without addressing the huge ass elephant in that room - why place it over the M knowing EXACTLY what it looked like? (we know the answer to that, but omitting is the name of the game - said that already).

So yeah, JK tattooed JM on his hand. For all of us to see. And he keeps touching it up. Darkening it. At times specifically those two letters.

I actually had a post in draft that is kind of redundant now, about how I noticed his JM at the airport leaving for the States.

That pinky ring, that actually isn't a pinky ring cause it's JM's ring, which he didn't wear when JM was there in NY with him, but had it back on travelling to London, JM gone back to SK, looks kinda too small even for his pinky, lol.

Now to Seven.

Like I said, JK sees Seven as a love song.

Yes, he sang the explicit version, but that's not what HE feels the song is about. And he's said it multiple times too.

This is what JK thinks about Seven:

and from the MV making:

and:

and from Stationhead radio 20th July appearance:

I think JK is being very clear here. Pity people aren't listening to him. This, for him, is a love song.

Yes, he knows it's very sexual, but it's about being with the person you love more than anything else and wanting to make that person happy. And him saying "the love of my life" that might have been on purpose (wouldn't put it past him) or even as a slip of the tongue, but it cements how he feels about the song, that might not have been written by him, but he most definitley feels an emotional connection with. I'd say kind of like Euphoria or Only then.

And now back to the hand and to JM and their place in JK's promotions for this song.

Not coincidently, JM is laced through every single part of the promotions for this song.

He's in the photo shoot concept.

He's in the MV (yes, what can you do, they had to go with a gf and hetero love story in the MV cause JK's first solo worldwide cannot be a queer love affair MV, that's just the way the cookie crumbles... not New jeans cookie - yuck - just writing that makes me feel ewe...).

He's in the choreography

There are more similarities than those I pointed out in that post. And again, it's not about JK stealing JM's moves from SMF pt. 2 (which we know the man LUVED). It's about JM inspiring him. And believe you me, that JM knew every single step of the way. The song, the MV and the choreo.

It's in the styling (not only the photo shoot).

And JM is just there, with JK all the time, on his hand, just out there for everyone to look and see.

For those saying the J is covered, nope, it ain't. The ring band is see through, cause that's just a thing JK does.

This finger pointing, not intentional in my opinion, just a little coincidence (JK holding the mic, as he does in the GMA performance as well, but in the Explicit performance with no mic in hand he covers his face just like the backup dancers do), and yet, a lovely one at that.

This is the way JK wanted it to be. Since way back in 2019 when he added that J over the M. For everyone to see all of the time!

So, where was I?

To sum this absolutely probably unnecessary post.

JK loves JM.

JK had JM tattooed on his hand.

JK chose Seven because he liked the song (and it's really a good one) and he also connected with it on an emotional level.

JK sees the song as a love song, expressing him wanting and needing to be with the person he loves, the love of his life, constantly, and showing said person how much he loves him and wanting to make them happy.

Yes, there is an explicit version to the song, yay, they replaced "loving" with "fucking". JK sings it, finds it amusing to say the word out loud, but when asked about it, it's the clean version, the love song version that he is connected to.

JK wanted to show us, in the ways that he, as a closeted queer man can, loves JM, is inspired by JM, and that JM is a part of who he is, as a man, as an artist.

Those two may not have come up with the "you are me I am you", but they most certainly took ownership of it. And JK, he's out there showing us just how true it is.

I think maybe it's about time that army:

a. Go read the lyrics to the song and understand that even the explicit version is talking about being with one person, the one you want to make feel good 7 days a week, and not about fucking someone else every day of the week. It's called reading comprehension, I think they need a lesson in that.

b. For once, even just once, listen to what JK is saying, what he's been saying ever since he started the promotion for this song.

This army was listening:

Well, at least to some of what JK has been saying.

I am guessing she's not a Jikooker, lol.

c. This one is for JKKs and PJMs. Try, for just one second, to put your feelings about the way JM's solo debut was treated BY THE COMPANY, and see with untainted glasses just how much this man loves JM. You know how much he promoted him personally and without the company's approval. He adores him, admires him, I'm willing to go so far as to worships him. JM is his catalyst. JM is the love of his life. JK would NEVER do something to disrespect or hurt JM. JK is trying to show us just how much JM is a part of who he, JK, is. He's trying to show us how much he is inspired by JM. How much he loves him. All this anger you are holding towards JK you need to let it go. JK as an artist is not the company as a promoter, they are not one and the same. On the way, I also recommend reading @beautifulpersonpeach's post:

Maybe, just maybe it will give you a little more insight or at the very least food for thought.

Ok, I think that's the end of this one. I kind of think I was all over the place here, and not so sure I got the message through, but it is what it is. Brain farts are not always pretty...

[offorestsongs]

lilyarrow headcanons/rambles

welcome to: the most embarrassing thing i've posted yet shfjdjf but i'm sick and i'm having the worst brainrot known to man so i think i'm allowed to be self indulgent (im constantly battling the little cop in my brain that's telling me i'm being cringe with anything i do lmao) either way, enjoy some Rook/Lysander rambles

they actually first met pretty early on,, sometime after book 2 maybe???

Vil once said that it's a shame that the Prefect has such long, pretty hair, yet he doesn't take good care of it and how he wouldn't let that fly if Lysander was in Pomefiore

cue Rook bringing Lysander to Vil so Vil can give him guidance (Vil: that's not what i asked of you??)

Lysander is like a delicate flower, Rook couldn't let his beauty wither away! that would be failing his life mission!

Lysander is a sweetheart, but he's also a little weird, which comes with growing up very isolated - meet with a guy who seems to know his name, age, height and preferences he just. blushes

he thinks it's SO sweet that somebody would pay so much attention to him heaven's help him

they're the definition of slow burn friends to lovers 300k words

it was always my interpretation that while Rook gets infatuated easily, it takes him a lot to truly fall in love

meanwhile Lysander falls fast and hard and is panicking about it So bad

this is the first time he'd ever had a crush on somebody who's not wholly unreachable to him and he's NOT dealing with it well

Ace relentlessly bullies Lysander for his choice in love interest sshfjsjfdhdk

it's very important to me that Lysander is somebody who grew up mostly confined to one place and he meets somebody who can show him the world and let him be more free

they bond over their love of nature/wilderness!!! they go on silly little adventures together!!!

Rook also showed Lysander how to climb trees bc Lysander was never allowed to as a kid

i like to think they had a little "there was only one bed" situation in book 5 lmao

i mean, despite Lysander’s best efforts, Ramshackle doesn't have that many rooms that are actually suitable for guests, they have to squeeze somebody in somehow

(it was probably Vil’s suggestion that they sleep in the same room; he's so tired of listening to Rook talking about how elegantly Lysander ate a sandwich this morning)

Lysander has actually trouble falling asleep sometimes, for a lot of reasons, but now he suddenly discovers that it takes him like, five seconds to fall asleep with Rook next to him because Rook makes him feel so safe

(Rook is weird about falling asleep with other people around so he mostly watches Lysander sleep. not that hes complaining! to the contrary!)

Rook is very uh. attuned to Lysander’s smell. he always notices when Lysander uses a different shampoo/conditioner/shower gel. he also notices when his own smell rubs off on Lysander (and he's appropriately smug about it)

they're THE WORST couple to be around once they actually get together somebody help them DHFJDJ they're very open with their affections (Lysander has at least the decency to get embarrassed but not as much to stop)

also Rook often visits Lysander when he has his shifts at the Mostro Longue and Azul is pissed because their couple-y shit is driving away the customers (insert the homophobic dog there should be more gay discrimination at the workplace meme here /j)

yes Rook writes Lysander handwritten love letters but Lysander writes him letters as well because he's a sappy old man at heart

this post was supposed to be longer but Tumblr hates me and ate half of it so bye 😭

[natasha-in-space]

Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I really love your writings! I was wondering if possible could you do a Jumin and Saeran x reader (separately) Soulmate AU if you can? It’s fine if not but if you do thank you! And I hope you have a good day/night!

So, funny story: this was supposed to be done by the start of this week! Turns out I love the concept of soulmates way more than I originally thought, so I hope you don't mind this being pretty long ':D

Jumin

Soulmate concept: You have a mark of the first letter of your soulmate’s name on your wrist.

Jumin never liked looking at the small single-letter mark that was forever etched onto the underside of his wrist. It's not that it looked weird or unpleasant to him, quite the opposite actually. It was almost frustrating just how perfectly it fit in there, no matter how hard he would try to ignore it. No, the reason why he would always cover his wrists up with long-sleeved business suits was that he absolutely refused to accept the idea of a soulmate. At least, in a traditional sense that his father would explain it to him.

And how could he not? With the way his father would latch onto anybody whose name began with that cursed letter that was embedded onto his wrist, the idea of doing the same was borderline sickening to Jumin. In some ironic sense, by trying to find your soulmate so desperately, you would lose all sense of authenticity in your relationships. It was all about finding that so-called 'the one'.

Why would he care about that? He had Jihyun: his childhood friend of many years with whom he shared countless of precious memories to reminisce about. His memory was so precise, he could write an entire book about their friendship if put his mind to it. He had Rika, before tragically losing her along with everyone else in the RFA. If there really was such a thing as a soulmate, he thought Rika was the closest thing he ever got to it. Her name did not begin with the same letter as the one that could be seen on his wrist... But, he foolishly hoped that her real name would surprise him. Rika was the first woman in his lifetime who saw the tangled mess of threads that he had so meticulously hidden away in the deepest parts of his conscience. She saw it. And, she accepted it.

Of course, Rika was happily engaged to another. His precious best friend, nonetheless. The last thing Jumin would do is ruin the happiness of those few he holds dear. He's not his father. Besides, he has Elizabeth the 3rd. She's all the company he needs at the end of a particularly stressful day. She never judges him, and she would never go somewhere he couldn't find her.

He was fine with his current life.

By the time you came into the picture like a hurricane, Jumin was certain he would go through his entire life without worrying about that mark ever again. Surely it was just a coincidence that your name began with the very same letter as his mark. And, of course, your lovely personality and good heart were the only reasons behind his growing attachment to you the longer you two talked through your first days in their organization. What else could it be? You were a thoughtful and compassionate person. That's all there is to it.

Oh, how mortified he was when he first saw your uncovered wrist with the visible 'J' etched onto it.

You were asleep at the time, looking way too adorable for your own good as you curled into your blankets like Elizabeth the 3rd would often do as well. He didn't mean to look. Truth is, he had no idea what pushed him to gently take hold of your hand and gaze upon your wrist.

There were a lot of things he couldn't understand. And you were in the center of it all. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to understand the strange and captivating effects your every action would have on his conscience. And... most of all, he wanted to understand his own heart.

Maybe it's because, much like Rika once did, you saw the tangled threads of his heart: weaved together so tightly, it was practically impossible to discern where each thread would begin, and where it would end. He stopped trying to untangle them a long time ago. But, you were different from Rika. Ever since you met him face-to-face, you started trying to untangle those threads of his. With every kind word of yours, with every caring touch and patient gaze, you would gently detangle each tiny knot one by one. And, what shook him most of all is that...

It didn't hurt.

Was it really you helping him figure out his own detached heart, or were you just motivating him to search for those answers on his own? Jumin didn't know. All he did know at this very moment, as he stared at that single letter visible on the soft skin of your wrist, is that he felt strangely... hopeful. Just because both of your names fitted the letters of your soulmate marks didn't mean anything... It could be a mere coincidence. And yet, he couldn't logic his way out of this. Not anymore.

"Jumin...?"

He almost jumped as you suddenly opened your eyes and looked up at him with a groggy look crossing over your features. Damn it. He shouldn't have disturbed your sleep like that.

"I apologize." He swiftly let go of your wrist, absent-mindedly rubbing his fingers together without even thinking about it. "I didn't mean to wake you."

You let out a small sleepy groan, slowly sitting up in bed as you let your blanket clumsily fall from your shoulder. He tried his hardest to ignore the unfamiliar warmth in his cheeks as he took in your slightly disheveled appearance and drowsy eyes.

He wanted to touch your hair... Was it soft? It looked soft. Even when it was all messy like that.

"What were you looking at?" You asked, shifting your attention to your wrist. Some part of him wanted to change the subject, but no words came out. When was the last time he found himself so frozen on the spot? You momentarily met his gaze, a sense of understanding flashing through your eyes. Ah, so clever, as always. "Oh... Was it this?"

You caressed your soulmate's mark with the tip of your thumb, a thoughtful hum emitting from your throat. For some reason, this one simple action made his breath get caught in his throat. Before he could even think about it, Jumin reached out with his own hand, gently taking hold of your wrist again. You didn't seem to mind, just raising your eyes back up at his face as he crouched down in front of the guest bed. He let out a breath. "Yes. I just..."

He trailed off, not really knowing what he wanted to say. He decided to change the subject instead.

"...Do you believe in it?"

"In what? Soulmates?" You asked, sounding a bit puzzled as you tilted your head to the side. He drummed his fingertips against your wrist, finding this action to be oddly comforting.

"Yes."

A moment of silence passed, one that felt way longer than it actually was. Finally, you shrugged. "I don't deny it... But, It's not like finding a soulmate is all that matters in life. I'd like to believe that I will find my soulmate, whoever it is, once the time is right. Until then, I will focus on flourishing in my own way."

The smile you gave him made his chest fill up with ticklish warmth. You were truly such an admirable person. He couldn't help but be so very enamored by you. You shone so brightly, both on your own and with other people around you. Your heart was open to the world, but it was strong enough to sustain you independently. You didn't need anyone to be fulfilled, but you knew the importance of meaningful connections, and you cherished every single one of them. In Jumin's eyes, you were perfectly imperfect in that way.

"Do you believe in soulmates, Jumin?" You brought him back from his thoughts with your question, one of your hands now lightly pressing atop of his. Almost like you were testing the waters. He let it stay there.

Still, your question made him suck in a breath and look away, despite his every cell practically screaming at him to keep on looking into your eyes. "...I don't know. I never understood why everyone around me was so obsessed with finding their soulmate. My father would jump at every person whose name would begin with that cursed letter, no matter what it meant for me or anyone in the company. I think... love should be voluntary, not forced on you by some invisible force."

He could see you nodding out of the corner of his eyes. And then, he felt your thumb gently caressing the palm of his hand, this single touch making him shiver. God, what were you doing to him...?

"You have a very good point... But, I don't think a soulmate bond means that you will instantly be head over heels towards each other." You mumbled. Your words made him pause as he mulled over your point of view. Eventually, he turned back to look at you, feeling more comfortable discussing this touchy subject. He wanted to hear your thoughts. Talking to you was always so insightful and comfortable. Another thing he appreciated about you.

"Then... What do you think it means?"

You hummed. "I think... It just means that this person is your perfect match. But, this doesn't mean that just meeting them is all there is to it. You still have to learn and grow together... work on loving and understanding each other one step at a time. Does this even make sense?"

Another long pause followed as he let your words sink in for a moment.

"What if... I was your soulmate?"

Saeran

Soulmate concept: When one soulmate feels pain, the other does too

Your soulmate had to be the saddest person on this entire Earth.

It started out from such an early age, you were sure your parents were deeply concerned for you at the time. For as long as you could remember yourself, you felt it. Your soulmate would get hurt almost every day, and you had no choice but to adapt to it. At first, you were confused, upset, frustrated. And, who could blame you? You were just a kid. You couldn't possibly comprehend what you were feeling or why. You just knew it was bad, and you didn't like it.

At first, you were angry.

While your parents explained to you the concept of soulmates in the simplest way they could to someone so terribly young, you still found it so very unfair. Nobody around you seemed to struggle as much as you did. Maybe one of your playmates would suddenly start crying over an uncomfortable burning in their knee, or a stomachache, but... for you, it was very different. You felt uncomfortable and sickly almost every day. And, you had no choice but to adapt to it, whether you wanted to or not. All you could find solace in was the comforting touch of your parents as they would share a worried look, while you would curl up on their lap, whimpering about feeling so hungry and thirsty, but not actually wanting to eat or drink yourself, because it wasn't your hunger or thirst you were experiencing.

With age, came understanding.

As you grew up, you learned about how the soulmate bond would work in a more complex way than what you thought of it before. You understood that your soulmate was hurting. That they were probably very sad. And unable to do anything to change that. Your anger was replaced by sympathy. How could it be that your soulmate was growing up like this? How can that be fair? Or unchanging for so many years? You found yourself being very careful about getting hurt as you grew up. Your soulmate was already in so much pain... You didn't want them to suffer any more than they already did.

And then, came acceptance.

As years passed by, you learned a certain pattern of sorts. You learn to work around it. You learned to expect it. Your soulmate would get hurt every other week it seemed, although you couldn't really figure out if someone was hitting them, or they just were very unlucky in terms of coordination. In your teen years, something new came. You hated when something new would happen. You couldn't really figure out what it was. It was dizzying and confusing, almost like having a very mild migraine of sorts, but very far from it all the same. You would feel your head get all foggy, your throat tingling like you accidentally swallowed something very hot and spicy, and your stomach would feel achy and uncomfortable for the entirety of that day. You didn't like when that happened. But, it was something new you had to get used to now.

Just when would they finally stop hurting...?

Soulmates would share their pain with each other. It's something that was supposed to bring comfort and solace to those suffering from it. Knowing that, no matter how hard it would get, they were never truly alone. That sentimental concept, however, would shatter completely once you start thinking about other things than just mundane types of pain a perfectly healthy human being would deal with. You knew you were not alone in your predicament. Lots of people shared the similarities of your situation. But... it didn't make it any easier. Of course, you would never be able to feel the direct pain your soulmate was going through. It was just an... uncomfortable dulled out reflection of it.

When your soulmate would get hit, you would feel a sharp jolt in that same area, making you stumble a bit. Sometimes, it would even knock the air out of you, particularly whenever your soulmate would get hit in the chest. Every few months, your scalp would itch uncomfortably, making you huff and curse as you tried to ignore the irritating burning feeling the best you could. It reminded you of that one time you accidentally used too much bleach on your hair in an unfortunate hairstyling accident. You wondered why it reminded you so much of it. Surely your soulmate wouldn't fry their hair off every single time they wanted to dye their hair, right?

With how observant you've grown over the years, it didn't take you long to realize that Ray was, in fact, your soulmate. Actually, you figured it out on the third day of your stay in this place. It was obvious. Your head would ache annoyingly at the same time as him mentioning a migraine, and your fingertips would itch as you saw him nervously biting at his gloved fingers when he thought you weren't looking. That, topped over with the way you felt naturally drawn to him, made it fairly clear what was really going on here. Still, you decided not to bring it up with him.

Not yet, at least.

You cared for Ray, both because of him being your soulmate and because of your genuine affection towards him. Your affection, however, never clouded your logic. You knew that he was hiding something from you, that there was more to this place than he let on. And... you weren't sure how he would react if he found out about your soulmate bond to each other. He seemed rather attached to you... Sometimes, it was sweet and lovely. But, sometimes, it would make your heart ache as you wondered... just what did he have to go through to think so lowly of himself? To grow so desperate for companionship?

Desperation would often lead to rash decisions. Which is exactly why you were being patient. You would tell him, eventually. You just needed him to trust you more, and you wanted to grow to know him on a deeper level. You wouldn't leave his side, of that you were certain.

But... things didn't quite... went according to plan.

Yesterday, you accidentally tripped over the carpet and hit the edge of the bed with your hip quite badly. You wouldn't be surprised to see a huge purple bruise on that very same spot, to be completely honest. Surely, Ray felt that. You felt a bit bad for causing him this discomfort. This is exactly why you were being extra cheerful to him on your walk through the garden today, trying to conceal the way you would occasionally limp once you put your foot in the wrong way. It wasn't painful or anything... but, it was uncomfortable. Sadly, Ray didn't seem to buy it. Or, at least, judging by the worried look in his piercing mint eyes.

He suddenly stopped walking, just staring you down, a whole mix of conflicting emotions swirling in his gaze, making it hard for you to distinguish what is it that he was feeling at this moment. It made you a bit nervous, quite frankly. But, you tried not to make your soft smile falter. "Is something wrong?"

"You're hiding something from me."

You blinked, a bit taken aback by just how blunt he came off. He didn't sound angry or suspicious per se... You couldn't really figure out what he was thinking. You haven't seen Ray like this before. Or, at least... without him trying to hide it. You let out a breath before giving him your reply, picking your words carefully as you did. "What do you mean?"

You could see him pursing his lips, his fingers twitching as he mulled over his thoughts. He seemed a bit frustrated. Like he didn't really know what he wanted to say. It definitely made him look a bit paranoid, and you couldn't blame him. "I just... Please, you must tell me if there's something on your mind. You must. You trust me, right?"

...Did he not know the reason behind his suspicions himself?

"Of course I trust you... Ray, is something bothering you?" You tried a softer approach, hoping to get to the source of this.

He darted his eyes around the garden, not really focusing on anything in particular. Yeah, he was definitely feeling nervous. "I don't... You didn't answer my question. You're not hiding anything from me, are you?"

It seems like both of you were just going in circles. But, what else could you say? You were starting to feel a bit confused yourself. What was this about, exactly?

"Not that I know of... Say, how about we talk about this back in my room? Maybe we'll figure something out. I don't like seeing you so nervous."

You didn't mention the fact that there would be fewer ears listening in on your conversation in there. Either way, he seemed to consider your suggestion before nodding and offering you his glowed hand, which you quickly took.

"...Yes, that sounds wonderful. Thank you, Y/N." He gave you a small but genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat for a moment. He looked so pretty when he smiled...

But, as your thoughts drifted somewhere far away, centered only around Ray's delicate facial features, you completely forgot about your hip. One clumsy step and you instinctively winced, quickly placing your foot into a different position. This, however, made Ray freeze again, his hold on your hand tightening. You didn't know whether it was due to him automatically trying to hold onto you in case you would trip, or... Well, the other option concerning that special bond of yours.

"...Are you hurt?"

This time, it was your turn to avert your gaze. You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. "Ah, it's... it's nothing. Just a bruise."

"A bruise?"

Oh, God, he sounded rather... intense. You didn't know how to respond to that. You felt him take a step closer, your breath getting caught up in your throat as he did. "Where is it?"

...Should you tell him? That didn't sound like a question, more like a demand. You hesitated, unsure whether or not you should just make up some excuse. Was this really the right time to reveal that you were, in fact, his soulmate? You didn't know. You weren't ready for this turn of events at all.

"I, uh... It's nothing. I just tripped over the carpet yesterday. It's not serious, I'm just a bit sore." That was vague enough, but truthful nonetheless. You hoped your answer would suffice. Judging by the deeply troubled look on Ray's face, your hopes wouldn't be met.

Geez, he was acting like you broke your leg or something!

"Let me see." His grip on your hand tightened again as he took yet another step closer, bringing your bodies together in a way that was definitely beyond just colleagues or friends hanging out. You gulped. Again, he didn't sound angry, but... firm. A side of him you were not used to whatsoever. Still, strangely enough, it made your cheeks burn. Especially when you remembered where this bruise was exactly.

"N-no..." You shook your head, averting your gaze from him nervously. Well, there's no winning this. You'll just have to come clean. You certainly did not want Ray to get even more paranoid than he already was. "It's... It's on my hip, alright? So, it'll be... a bit embarrassing to show you, if you know what I mean."

A choked gasp was all you heard, his fingers quivering where they grasped onto your hand. Did he figure it out? You were too anxious to ask.

"Your... Your hip? You said you... you got this bruise yesterday?" He muttered, sounding both nervous and hopeful at the same time. He gently nudged you a bit closer, tilting his head to presumably take a look at your eyes. "Please... Please look at me, okay, Y/N? This is... This is important."

Of course it was important. You swallowed, feeling your heart picking up the pace as you did turn to meet his gaze. Honestly, it made your knees feel weak with just how many emotions he was looking at you. He looked like he was about to cry or laugh, or faint, and you were not sure which one of these options he would take.

You decided to just be upfront about it now. "...Did you feel it?"

His eyes widened, another strangled breath falling from his lips as he began to tremble, overwhelmed with so many different emotions. You didn't have to spell it out to him. It was obvious. This time, it was your turn to hold onto him. You had no idea what would happen after you utter those words... But, you knew there was no way around it. You were meant to meet one another. You were determined to see it through, no matter what secrets this boy kept hidden in his heart.

"You're my soulmate, Ray."

[sixofcrowdaydreams]

Crow Names Written in Kerch

Here are all of the Crow's names written in a Kerch alphabet. Just for fun. (And the vowel discrepancy and subsequent meltdown I had trying to write Wylan's names.)

So some things of note while creating this...

I am not an artist and drawing fictional letters is hard.

Your eye/my lighting and camera are not bad, the paper is a soft purple color left over from Valentine's Day.

More importantly:

When in doubt about spelling, I stuck to the English direct letter translation for the spelling.

For example: Inej's last name Ghafa, starts with a G so I wasn't sure whether to use the regular G or the GH character, which in words like laugh, does not use a hard G and sounds more like an F. I used the GH.

While the Kerch alphabet uses a J/Y (ja/ya) the Y at the end of Jesper's last name is written as a vowel, EE.

I actually didn't see the second chart that went into more detail about the vowels connecting to the consonants until after I wrote the names. Therefore, I didn't see the difference between the soft A (example: apple) and hard A (example: can). Technically, that means soft A character in Kaz, Nina, and Matthias' should be longer.

Aaaaand now I realize I messed up Nina's name too. Instead of a soft I, the EE vowel should have been used.

Unpictured, I also wrote out Six of Crows. There is no letter X in Kerch, unless I read the charts wrong. So in Kerch there is only the Si-- of Crows. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Wylan (his names deserves their own list of bullet points) and Matthias:

There is no hard I (as in ice) sound in Kerch, according to the the two character/letter charts I saw (linked above). HAVE WE BEEN PRONOUNCING WYLAN'S NAME WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME?!

Seriously, did I not read the charts correctly?

So in the first photo (left) I wrote his Wylan's name using the soft I just in case the vowel, like English could be used as hard or soft depending on the word. But, given that the other vowels in Kerch, like hard A, E, and O are written differently than soft A, E, and O, I don't think this is likely.

The spelling with the soft I (example: igloo) would pronounce his name as Will-lan

I also wrote Wylan's name using the hard E (which makes his name pronounced Wee-lan) in the 2nd photo (right). Personally, I'm inclined to believe it would be written this way, but there's literally no precedent, the points are made up and the rules don't matter!

The lack of hard I vowel would effect Matthias too, but I didn't realize that until after his name was written. (Matt-- i-as or Matt-ee-as: he probably hates Kerch as a language for this reason, let's be real)

Mildly related, but I feel Wylan and Matthias's pain. I moved across the world and now live within a language and alphabet that does not recognize a letter in my name. The consonant just doesn't exist. So the sound and letter use similar sounding substitutes.

The English spelling of Eck uses the letters C and K, but I wasn't sure if Kerch would combine the letters into one sound. Therefore I wrote both for funsies. Not sure which I aesthetically prefer.

The same C and K issue came up writing Hendricks too. So I wrote an example of of the English directly translated spelling and the combined K sound too just to see what they would look like.

Thanks for letting me nerd out about the Kerch language used in Shadow and Bone. It was super fun!

[mimibunbunny]

The JM

You know, for all the suspicious shit Jungkook and Jimin have done over the years, I don't know why the hand tattoo isn't talked about as much... Because for me, besides the ear sucking incident, that's the most 🤨 thing I have ever seen them do. We talk a lot about what Jimin says, does etc., but when it comes to Jungkook is much less frequent he will say something, he mostly does stuff. And boy, when he does, he goes all out (cof cof GCF cof cof). But, for me, the boldest thing he's ever done is the JM tattoo.

I take it like this:

1) The tattoo has no relation to BTS. The J and the Army are just to say "Jungkook and Army".

-> Then why the ring finger? Yeah, he has other tattoos on his fingers, maybe he was putting one tattoo on each finger, but still... Wouldn't it be better to have the J in the middle? Or it could've been switched with the crown. But no, it's right above the M. I just find the placement strange (not in a bad way, just odd/suspicious)

2) The tattoo is for the BTS members.

-> So this one is tricky. Yeah the "A" can be an upside down V, then you have "RM" and "Y" for Yoongi. But, then... He just bundled up everyone else in the J? Like 3 members get their own letter and then J for the rest. And worse, placing the J above the M so it makes "JM", and Hoseok and Jin are left with a J, if you take away the M, of course. Like, idk, it can be taken as something "smart", but it feels a little bit hmmm for me? Like, if the J was for everyone with a J, he could've but 3J above the M (so it includes Jungkook), so it makes 3J + Jimin. I just find it kinda idk, it's not without regard to the others, it just feels like it was like "Welp, that's the only way everyone fit so that's gonna be it 🤷🏽‍♀️". So, I kinda believe this one and kinda don't at the same time. I find it more probable than the J only for Jungkook theory.

Either way, if it is for the members or not, I still believe the JM was deliberate and it is for Jimin. It's too on the nose. It's actually so obvious it's a perfect "hide in plain sight" thing. If someone asks he can either say it's only for his name or it's for all of his bandmates. The acronym on the ring finger is still JM though.

[pascaloverx]

Hit The Road

Chapter Seven

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Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story. In this chapter there will be some flashbacks, whenever the lettering style is different; it will be a memory. Also some information here is not in the order of the series or the same way it happened in the series. I'm changing some things to fit the fanfic story. Hope you like it!

You're standing in front of Stefan's car while he's talking to Caroline on the phone. It took about twenty minutes for him to convince her to go get the cure for werewolf. The name Klaus Mikaelson is said a few times during the conversation between Caroline and Stefan. It seems that she finds it curious that Stefan wants her to go after Klaus when she was involved only a short time ago romantically with Stefan. You can't help but think that if Caroline didn't seem to like you when she thought you was involved with Damon, imagine when she finds out that you slept with her ex?

"Caroline, this is much bigger than you and me. It's about saving the lives of two people, one of them is my brother and your best friend's ex. If you can soften Klaus' heart, I would appreciate it." Stefan speaks softly, like he's not nervous but his hands have been shaking since he rescued me and saw the werewolf bite. You are curious about why your imminent death disturbs this Salvatore's mind so much. Maybe he is remembering you, and the past you lived together.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to help, I owe you one. And tell Tyler that I'm in the middle of the highway where I found Damon's car and Y/N. " Stefan speaks seconds before ending the call, while you are standing outside the car admiring the bite mark becomes increasingly ugly on your arm. Your arm hurts like you're burning inside, and it doesn't look the best. You're trying to stay strong, you want to find Damon and help Stefan.

"Do you think she'll be able to talk this guy Mikaelson into helping us?" You ask a little suspicious that someone so powerful would help you in exchange for nothing.

"He will probably ask for something in return, you must be prepared. I don't know if he doesn't know you, if he does You'll probably owe him. But don't worry, I'll do my best to cover you in this." Stefan says, with a confidence that you admire. Maybe his brother and you will end up dying today but he seems to really believe we're going to get out of this.

"Listen, if we don't have another chance... I want you to know that I remembered you. I actually remembered us." You say with a little hope that he will remember you. You don't know how, or why you want him to look at you and say he recognizes you, but you deeply desire that Stefan remember what you felt for each other.

"What exactly did you remember?" Stefan asks, not seeming confused or lost. It appears he wants to know what you recalled because he's curious. Could he have started to believe that you both shared a romance?

"I remembered that you and I had a passion. Something somewhat forbidden because we got involved after I had been with your brother, but I feel like I truly wanted you. My heart seems to remember you more than my memory can convey." You respond hesitantly. You fear he may not have felt the same way or that he may never remember you.

"I also remembered something. You and I in a forest, bathing in a waterfall or something similar. It was like I could feel that moment, as if being with you made me feel alive." Stefan speaks, looking directly at you while he's crouched on the ground, checking the tire, and you're standing with your arms crossed in front of the car.

"I would really like to die knowing how much you meant to me..." You say softly, almost as if speaking to yourself. However, Stefan stands up immediately, facing you. You try to avoid Stefan's gaze by looking away, but he places both hands on your face, directing your gaze back to him.

Stefan doesn't wait another second and passionately kisses you, as if he wants this moment to be unforgettable. You respond to the kiss, running your hands through Stefan's hair. You end up climbing on top of the car, with your legs wrapped around Stefan's waist. At that moment you realized that you missed him, you missed his body close to yours, you missed feeling like he wanted you. The kiss is only interrupted when you hear the sound of a car approaching. Stefan looks over his head and sees someone he knows, as he waves at the person to come closer.

"What's the plan to find your bloodsucking brother?" A man speaks coming towards the two of us as we compose ourselves. When you are about to say something, you feel a weakness take over you, while your conscience drifts away. You lose your breath as you feel your body fall to the ground.

"Love is not something we choose, Stefan. Obviously, I didn't choose to love you and your brother. So don't you dare call me confused." you shout as you angrily walk into the cabin. Stefan is right behind you, trying to hold you back. You slam the cabin door in his face. He follows you into the cabin and you regret the day you let him into it.

"You didn't let me finish talking, but between you and me, it's at least strange that you're in love with me and him. You said yourself that you would never do that." Stefan says while holding your arm, trying to turn you towards him. But you take the wooden stake and it almost sticks in his chest.

"You compared me to the doppelgangers, and then what do you want me to do, suck you under a tree to celebrate the fact that you think I like all this?" You speak furiously but Stefan doesn't take you seriously. He smiles maybe because you mentioned a blowjob or maybe because he likes to irritate you.

"I love it when you get angry and say something dirty like it's nothing. It's just that you don't know what it's like to know that you'll hardly be loved by a woman without her loving your brother." Stefan says, his tone revealing a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

"I love you. Even though it would be easier not to. It would be easier to love your brother and stick to the agreement you and I made to sleep together without getting attached. I'll love you even while loving your brother. Because you're worth the risk. I'm sorry if this isn't ideal for you." You finish speaking with such intensity that you don't feel the tears streaming down your face, but you know you're crying.

"You didn't understand. As bad as it might be, even in hell, your love would be one of the best things that ever happened to me." Stefan says, wiping away your tears. You look at him with such sincerity that you get lost in Stefan's gaze. You then lean in to kiss him. You want him, and even though it's wrong, you want to keep making this mistake.

You wake up again in Stefan's car, in the passenger seat. You're on a dark road that seems to be in the middle of nowhere. You slowly lift your head, feeling a pain coursing through your entire body. Stefan looks apprehensive, even though he's focused on the road. You finally turn fully towards him to let him know that you've regained consciousness.

"You blacked out for an hour, which is quite impressive for a vampire. You also mumbled things, as if dreaming about me, and seemed really upset, so I thought it best to let you rest." Stefan says, glancing sideways at you. His gaze carries a mix of concern and relief as he continues driving along the dark road.

"These visions, when mixed with a bite that's slowly killing me, can be incredibly intense. I almost feel like I'm human again." You say, adjusting yourself in the car seat, while a strange taste lingers in your mouth, as if someone fed you blood while you were unconscious.

"They must have been really intense; you were thrashing against the car seat. I told you it was better for you to stay home." Stefan says, sounding concerned. You find it a bit overprotective but romantic. He keeps driving, maintaining a watchful gaze on the dark road ahead, the worry lingering in his eyes.

"And who will protect you while you play the hero? If I'm going to die, let it be helping what might have been the great loves of my life." You add, the weight of the situation evident in your words. Stefan's expression softens, realizing the gravity of your sacrifice.

The car comes to a sudden stop, startling you. Stefan, who was following the car in front of you, seems to brace for the worst. You realize the warehouse in front of you must be the place where Damon is. Stefan prepares to get out of the car, while you struggle unsuccessfully to exit.

"Stefan, the door is locked. I hope you're not planning on leaving me here." You almost shout, using all the strength you have to try and exit the car with your vampire abilities. Whether it's weakness from the bite or not fully recovering from your fall, you seem unable to get out.

Stefan looks at you, murmuring a "sorry" as if it could make a difference. The humiliation fuels your anger, giving you the willpower to make another attempt at escaping the car. This guy Tyler seems to be helping Stefan with this situation. But something in you says you need to go there. Maybe it's death warning you that you need to go to the Salvatore brothers. You concentrate enough to kick Stefan's car door away. You feel like your strength is fading but you resist. Damon and Stefan need you, that's what your conscience says.

When you enter the warehouse Stefan is holding a werewolf by the neck and breaking its neck. Tyler is beating up two other werewolves, while Damon...

Damon is bleeding, trapped in what appears to be two bear traps, he has blood marks all over his body. His expression is one of pain, you feel like your heart would break just looking at him. One werewolf continues to torture him, using a wooden weapon and piercing Damon. You don't see anything in front of you, you just kill what appears in front of you. When you finally get to Damon, stick the gun that the werewolf was using it to hurt Damon and shoves it down the werewolf's throat. Damon looks at you with passion, and for the first time since you rediscovered him after losing your memory, you feel that Damon truly loves you.

"You kept your promise..." Damon murmurs, almost breathless. You release him from the trap, and he roars in pain. Offering your shoulder for support, you help him lean on you.

"What promise?" Is all you manage to say before seeing an arrow pierce Damon's abdomen.A werewolf shot that arrow to hit you but Damon got in front. He fell to the ground as blood came out of his mouth. You fear that Damon will die, you don't want to lose his love. When you kneel on the floor and see Damon agonizing in pain, you feel like your world is rocked. You knock the arrow out of Damon and shout to Stefan, who can give Damon his blood to drink. You look at Damon, who seems to be recovering from the arrow. You got the feeling as if a weight is leaving your shoulder. And then in the midst of it all you feel something warm come out of your nose when you touch it; see blood. And then you loses consciousness.

"Marry me?" Damon suggests, as you stand there waiting for him to explain why he's standing in front of your cabin in the middle of the night.

"You just came from a date with your girlfriend, and now you want to marry your second option?" You say, still recovering from your interrupted sleep.

"I was with my EX-girlfriend at a ball that I committed to attend long before breaking up with her, but that's not the point. I can't get you out of my head and my heart. So, marry me." Damon says, his voice holding a mix of sincerity and urgency as he awaits your response.

"Marriage for what reason? You're not even a human, for God's sake." You say, finding it hard to believe that this is happening now.

"Because you're human, and I want that commitment with you. I'll repeat, marry me?" Damon insists, his gaze fixed on you with a sense of determination.

"I do, Damon. If you want me to say I accept you in sickness and in health, even though you won't get sick. I promise to be by your side in richness and in poorness, but as you're a vampire, you must be rich. And all of this until death do us part. But death has already parted us, so..." Before you can finish, he interrupts you with a kiss.

"Do you promise to sacrifice your life if I need help?" Damon adds, as if he's truly conducting a wedding ceremony.

"I promise. Do you promise to protect me from anything that tries to harm me?" You say, looking at him, totally enchanted.

"I promise. I guess we're husband and wife now. You're a Salvatore and I am your husband." Damon says, kissing you intensely and entering the cabin with you.

[desafinado]

ahh congrats on 200!! once you’re less busy with work (rip) could i please request a school/uni au where reader is a secret admirer for any characters of your choice? maybe they’re part of the same friend group, or they share similar classes? oh or maybe they consult/ask the reader for advice about the letters or smt? i don’t mind the format btw! thank you so so so much:D

(ps. idk if you keep anons but if you do, could i be 🍁 anon~?)

°｡⋆ thoma, ayato x reader (wc: 2,129) °｡⋆ thoma relationship w/ reader a bit interdependent, swearing, fluff, banter note: omg yes i love this idea!! also yes you could be 🍁 anon!! and you'd be my vv first anon so omg yay welcome!!! and hope you enjoy ^^ (also chose thoma and ayato bc of those school uniform collab thing, it was what first came to mind)

ayato ♡

you could not ignore his presence the moment he entered the room. it was as if the mere presence of him warranted trumpets.

you were either enamored by him or scared to make even the slightest eye contact with him; his reputation as a wealthy heir and supposed poised nature preceded him.

you were in a rare minority though, that minority being almost infuriatingly annoyed with how everyone treated him like a prince. you didn’t care about him for the most part, but it was annoying to hear his name in every conversation right before class started.

that was, of course, he was randomly assigned to be your partner for a term long project.

“hmm, i don’t believe we’ve been acquainted. kamisato ayato, and you?”

oh brother, this guy stinks (/j) but all those inner thoughts you’ve had making fun of him were quickly meeting its end.

he was polite enough; teased you a bit, but nothing you couldn’t handle. it was actually fun to see his reaction to you teasing him back.

“you know, i believe you’re the first person to call me a piece of shit… well to my face at least.”

he was more self-aware than you thought, good company too. he seemed to be a bit more of himself around you too, and you appreciated that.

your friendship went way beyond just study sessions and meetings, opting to hangout just because you liked each other’s presence, isn’t that neat?

eventually, he’d also open up more emotionally. telling you his woes, the pressure of being the heir to the kamisato business, caring for his younger sisters, and of course, general university/college student stress.

you heard him out every time, and always knew how to help him get out of his head.

“wanna come over and cry it out over som–” “yes.”

you had realized it when he slept over one night, he had fallen asleep on your lap, snoring quietly. you were gently stroking his cheek, admiring his soft skin, how kissable his lips were.

kissable lips? now, wanting to kiss them could imply a multitude of things, but that coupled with how much you cared for him, and the way your heart fluttered around his small acts of appreciation… you had fallen in love with him, hard.

after that “small” epiphany, you tried to bury it down, down deep in the recesses of your mind.

everyone must’ve had at least a moment in which they thought they were in love with a dear friend, right?

that was what you told yourself everyday for the past two months.

you tried to keep it buried, but the pounding of your heart only got stronger each time you were left alone with him. at nights, your thoughts would linger on what it would be like to take him out to dinner, send cute couple texts, and all of those domestic activities.

but for now, you could only stay where you were, a friend and a partner (in class).

it was valentine’s day, and you both were stuck in the library trying to make some progress on your term project. it’s not like you had any better plans anyways, you’re just hoping ayato didn’t mind. 

“what about this journal? it correlates with our topic.”

he sends you a link of the article in question and you skim through it; ayato is watching intently for any sort of response. you hum in approval, looking up at him from your laptop.

“i think we can use it, yeah. honestly, i just want this done with… and anyways, we can just do improvements on the final stretch.” you sigh a little, thinking of all the work left to do after this particular stage of the project. he raises an eyebrow with an all-knowing smirk.

“hmm? why in a rush? you have a valentine’s date perhaps?” you shut your laptop, sighing even more dramatically. “okay, one, you know i’m a loser, and two, maybe i'm just tired, dumbass.” ayato giggles at your misery, cleaning up his own things.

“you’re not a complete loser, despite what you might think.” he mumbles almost inaudibly, but you certainly heard it. it takes you aback and sets your heart ablaze, sure, but you shrug it off and try changing the topic. 

“what about you? you surely must have some event at the very least. aren’t you part of like three different organizations?”

he shakes his head, picking up his bag. “ok yes, but i actually don’t really care for the holiday that much. it's just an excuse for couples to show off, is it not?” now, that elicits a chuckle from you. “aw, really? maybe you’re just bitter you don’t have anyone to spend it with.”

he stops dead in his tracks, looking up at you; he’s rolling his eyes, and you’re laughing at your successful attempt in throwing him off.

“oh, whatever. it’s not like you have anyone either.”

“yeah, but at least i’m not the valentine’s equivalent of the grinch”

“hey! i never said–”

you both earn a shush from another nearby table, stopping your little squabble. you both decide to leave the area before continuing your conversation any further. once you’re both out, ayato takes the chance to continue what he was saying.

“as i was saying, i don’t detest the idea of love itself. i just see no point in celebrating such a holiday when you could be showing your lover how much you love them everyday.”

he had a point, and it was actually pretty poetic and romantic.

“okay, well that’s besides the point, valentine’s day is still a pretty cute excuse to go all out.” you swoon, thinking up the most romantic scenarios. a subtle smile rests on ayato’s face before he playfully shakes his head. “to each their own, i guess. just know that if it were me, i’d never let a day go by in which you aren’t aware of how much i love you.”

…

freudian slip, he was distracted by your cute face and the way it lit up at the thought of romance. you smirked at the turn of events though.

“me?”

“i mean… yes. i-i do wish to treat you as s-such… but i didn’t mean for it to–”

“i like you too, ayato. i... i've been waiting to say that for a while now.”

“oh… really?”

“yes, now take me out! you said you would treat me as such did you not?"

thoma ♡

it was your first few days on campus, and you were overwhelmed by everything. so many people, new places, and you all by your lonesome.

you weren’t a sociable person and it was tiring, you felt your head pounding at the thought of all the ways every little thing could go wrong.

you sat alone at lunch, trying to handle your oncoming headache, when someone approached you from behind.

“hey, uh are you alright?”

you were stunned to say the least, and turning around to see him only intensified that surprise.

“oh, h-hi.”

he introduced himself as thoma, he had the sweetest, kindest, most sunshine filled smile you had ever laid eyes on; you felt comfortable in his friendly aura, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious talking to someone as gorgeous as him.

his eyes shined every time he chuckled, and you swooned in response, letting him steer the conversation away from your worrisome thoughts.

eventually, he was able to talk you into going to the uni’s clinic, and he made sure to stick by your side until he was sure you were in safe hands.

“now, i’ve got a class, but this isn’t goodbye, right? next time we meet, i hope to see you in a much better state.”

he was so… gr. you’d rather him the one taking care of you, cuddles, handholding, and all, but yes, you definitely wanted to see him again.

over time, you’d run into him more often, text him every now and then, even eat lunch together with his friends.

he was such a delight to be around, you had any question about events, rules, recommendations, literally whatever and he’d have the best advice.

you’d spend hours sharing stories and random opinions, you even found yourself skipping a class or two just to spend an extra hour with him.

he took care of you so well, but it was also a somewhat somber reminder that you were just a friend to him, someone he took care of. you definitely didn’t want him to see you as some sort of younger sibling.

that was when you took it upon yourself to really lean more into the uni life. you tried going to parties, joining clubs, even going on a few dates. 

at this point, you weren’t so sure anymore if you were doing this for the experience or to run away from your feelings.

you found yourself blowing off hangouts with thoma in favor of some random frat party or blind date. even for lunch, you’d excuse yourself, saying you had to study or get some rest before your next class.

you couldn’t hold him off forever though, a simple text was all it took.

“we need to talk. meet you at that dog cafe by the flower shop in 30?”

“thoma?”

you looked like a corpse fresh out of the grave; your skin looked like it desperately needed some sun, and dark spots were evident under your tired eyes. thoma took your hand and guided you to a booth with some drinks and food. it was definitely tempting.

“we haven’t hung out in a while, i’m worried about you, you know?”

his frown hurt you like never before, but you knew it was only because of his concern. you took a seat across from him, slowly nodding.

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ve just been trying to expand my horizons? i don’t actually know anymore.” you sigh knowing you can’t even lie to him, he always sees things through. you took a sip of the drink he had ordered for you. he looked deep in thought before speaking up.

“then, why not talk to me about it? was it something i said? did you…” his voice is strained as he voices out the next words. “have you been making new friends?” there's an encouraging smile on his face, but you know it's only for show, for you.

“i tried, but no, not really. nobody compares to you, thoma.” your eyes meet his as you say his name. you didn’t mean to, but you wanted to be sincere. thoma, in return, blushed profusely, not expecting you to express such sentiments.

“ah, really?” the poor boy is trying to calm his racing heart and focus on you. “i– that’s nice to know that you think of me that way– n-not to say making new friends is bad! i just thought you had forgotten about me.”

“how could i? when all i could think about was coming back to you.”

“wait, what do you–”

“i like you, thoma. i love the way the light hits your face, i love how thoughtful you are about everyone, i love all the nonsensical conversations we’ve had. the only thing i hate about you is how much of an effect you have on me; how being away from you makes me sad, and being with you fills me with an uncontrollable rush of adrenaline… and, and even then, it's only my fault.”

your eyes closed shut the whole way, you can’t bear to see the pity on his face. you knew it was bad, you knew doom was imminent, but the only thing that hurt more than avoiding him was lying to him.

“i like you too… in that very same way, and i apologize if i ever made you feel like i didn't.” his hand slowly rested on top of yours from across the table. your eyes squinted slightly to see his face; there was a soft blush dusting his cheeks, and emerald eyes gazing back at you.

you slowly shake your head before replying. “you never did, you made me feel at home. i thought you’d only see me as some bothersome thing you had to care for, so i wanted to prove to you, and i guess myself, otherwise.”

his smile only widens, as he leans over the table to give you a kiss on the cheek. your eyes are fully open now, letting go of his hand to feel the warmth he left on your cheek.

“you were never a burden, if anything, my love for you sorta just overflowed that it manifested in those ways, me being a mother hen basically.” he chuckled, taking your hand in his. you nodded, focusing your gaze back on him.

“but now, i want you to trust me, let me love you, is that okay?”

divider: henri le sidaner | requests are open!! please do not repost on other sites