#i just had never personally talk about it lol

[cressidagrey]

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough. 

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 

Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 

Feyre could just stare. 

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 

The reactions were immediate. 

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

[dixons-sunshine]

So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.

Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.

Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.

Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.

Word count: 1.5k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.

This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.

Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.

Until now.

The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.

However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.

“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.

Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.

Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.

As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.

Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”

Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.

You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.

Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.

“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”

Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.

You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.

“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”

Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.

“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”

[forest-hashira]

Wrapped With a Bow

HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS LEIGH!!! i hope today treats you well, and that you enjoy this fic! there's not a lot to say otherwise lol, this is the closest i could manage to get to complete pwp, it's just meant to be some smutty fun!

read on ao3 | wc: ~2.8k | cw: tengen x gender neutral afab reader (no pronouns but afab anatomy terms used, reader wears a bra), technically modern au, it's reader's bday, established relationship, the wives are not mentioned, oral sex + fingering (reader receiving) unprotected piv sex, hot missionary agenda, creampie, light/implied breeding kink, i think that's it!

Your boyfriend had been acting off all evening. He was abnormally fidgety, shifting in his seat at least two dozen times – yes, you’d counted – while the two of you were at dinner. When you asked if he was okay, though, he assured you everything was fine, nothing to worry about. So you’d let it slide, doing your best to enjoy the meal and the dessert the wait staff had brought you. “On the house,” they’d assured you with a smile, “since it’s your birthday.”

“Tengen,” you asked, looking over at him as he once again squirmed in his seat as he drove both of you home, “Are you sure you’re okay?” Your boyfriend had never been what you would call a still or subdued person, talking with his hands and being completely unabashed in the way he laughed and flirted with you at every given opportunity, but seeing how antsy he was had you starting to worry. 

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he promised, shooting you a grin.

You weren’t entirely convinced. “You’ve been acting… weird, tonight. Something’s up.”

He let out a sigh, taking one hand off the steering wheel to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “You really don’t need to worry about me,” he said, voice a bit gentler than before. “But I can’t tell you what’s going on yet. It’ll spoil the surprise.”

“Surprise?”

Tengen glanced at you for a moment, flashing a smirk at you. “Your gift, obviously. I’m not spoiling that surprise, so you’ll just have to wait until we get home.”

Intrigued, you arched a brow at him, but he said nothing else, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to drag anything else from him. You let out a soft huff, but placed your hand over his on your knee for the rest of the ride home. 

When you arrived back home, Tengen was quick to unlock the door and usher you inside.

“Go get comfortable on the bed,” he encouraged, leaning in and kissing your cheek. “I need to check on something real quick, then I’ll be in there to give you your gift.” Before you gave him any sort of response, he was hurrying off to the bathroom.

Does he really need to pee? Is that why he’s been so weird? you wondered to yourself, shaking your head slightly at his antics. As per your boyfriend’s suggestion, you changed out of the outfit you’d worn to dinner – flattering to your figure and very nice, but not exactly comfortable for lounging around it – and into one of his t-shirts, though it was several sizes too big and practically swallowed you. Once you were comfortable, you climbed onto your bed, settling with your back against the pillows. Just as you were about to grab your phone to entertain yourself while you waited for your partner’s return, he stepped into the room.

You were a bit surprised to see him wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He clearly hadn’t just showered, though – you’d never heard the water running, and besides that, his hair was still dry and his elegant mahogany eyeliner was still in place. You blinked dumbly for a moment as you looked at him, but before you could inquire about his appearance, he spoke.

“Ready for your gift?” he asked, eyes flashing when he realized you were wearing his clothes.

All you did was nod, unsure what to expect from him right then, but your eyes widened when he dropped the towel. Immediately, your eyes were drawn down to his groin, and your shock quickly melted into laughter. 

Between his legs sat your present: his half hard cock with a magenta ribbon the same shade as his eyes tied in a bow around the base.

“Happy birthday!” he exclaimed, a beaming grin on his face as he placed his hands on his hips. “As your gift, I am at your complete disposal for the rest of the night.”

“Is that so?” you asked curiously, looking him up and down as you tried to decide what to ask for first. “Even if I tell you to get dressed again and clean the house?”

His expression fell a bit, but he nodded. “It’s whatever you want, sweetheart. It’s your birthday.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again at his reaction. “I’m just kidding, my love,” you assured him, smiling when he instantly perked up. “What I really want is for you to take that bow off, and to fuck me raw.”

Tengen’s cock visibly hardened at your words, and you smirked to yourself, knowing you had the power to turn him on like that. He was quick to comply with your command, untying the bow and letting the ribbon drop to the floor with the towel he’d been wearing. Almost before he reached the foot of the bed, he reached forward, grabbing your ankles and using them to pull you a bit closer to him. “How do you want me, baby?”

Somehow managing not to squeak at how easily he pulled you around – his strength always blew you away, no matter how long you’d been together – you smirked up at him again. “Like this,” you said simply. “Wanna be under you and looking at you while you fuck me.”

He swore under his breath, tipping his head back for a moment. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.” Looking back down at you, he leaned in, pressing a heated kiss to lips as he climbed over you, only pulling away to give you both a chance to breathe. When he turned his attention to the pillows, grabbing one to place beneath your hips before you got any further, you shot an exaggerated pout at him.

“You’re gonna make me take my own clothes off?”

Magenta eyes instantly jumped back to yours, and he shook his head. “Of course not, my love. Just tryin’ to get everything else in place before we get carried away.” He winked at you, setting the pillow down beside you, then slid his hands up your legs beneath his shirt. A look of surprise came over his features when he didn’t encounter any underwear, instead pushing up the shirt to reveal your lower half was completely bare. “Were you not wearing underwear at dinner?” he asked, eyes wide.

You shook your head. “No, I was not,” you confirmed. “You would’ve been able to see the outline through my clothes, so I thought the outfit looked better without anything underneath.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned, before shifting down to kiss your skin as more of it was revealed to him from beneath the shirt you wore. He stopped when he reached your chest, fully pulling the shirt over your head and tossing it aside before reaching beneath you and unclipping your bra in less than a second, without damaging it at all. Once the bra was tossed aside and you laid completely bare beneath him, it was his turn to smirk. “Your tits look great from this angle, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “You think my tits look great at any angle.”

“And that means I can’t compliment them?” he asked, feigning offense.

“Nope,” you agreed with a grin. “There are better things you can use your mouth for.”

“There sure are,” he agreed, then trailed kisses down your torso until he was between your legs, settling down as if he were about to eat his favorite dessert in the world. Which, if you were to ask him, he would probably say it was his favorite “dessert.” He was a little insufferable like that.

You watched as his gaze dropped to your pussy, his eyes dilating noticeably at the sight. You didn’t protest as he parted your thighs to give himself a bit more space, though when he set your knees on his shoulders and buried his face between your legs, taking a deep breath of your scent, you couldn’t help but laugh a bit. 

Before you could tease him for being so eager, his tongue was running up through your folds, gathering the arousal that had begun to drip from your hole. He let out a moan at the taste of you, pressing in closer, eager to have more of you. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he let himself really get carried away, working his tongue into you with practiced ease, his nose bumping your clit with every small movement of his head. 

It wasn’t long before you were a moaning mess, fingers tangled in his hair and tugging at the platinum strands. “Tengen,” you whimpered, struggling to keep your head up enough to look at him. 

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name, and though his movements slowed a bit, he didn’t stop entirely. He looked up at you through his lashes, waiting patiently for whatever it was you needed to say to him.

“Need more,” you managed, rocking your hips up into his face. “Please?”

Never one to deny you anything, Tengen complied, releasing one of your thighs from his hold. He pulled his mouth away from you for a moment, albeit hesitantly, before pressing one thick finger into you. 

A small breath escaped you at the feeling, almost relieved to have gotten what you asked for, but then your boyfriend wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, and your head slammed back into the pillow. “Oh, fuck!” you cried out, squirming in his hold as he continued his actions. 

Soon enough, he was pressing a second finger in alongside the first, scissoring them and pressing them into your sweet spot. He kept you pinned in place with the arm still wrapped around your thigh, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his gaze burning into you. 

Tightening your grip on his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, you pulled him closer, rocking your hips to meet his movements. You could feel a familiar coil tightening in your gut, and you were eager to find the release you knew was coming. “I’m close,” you told him, lifting your head once again to meet his gaze. 

His eyes flashed at your words, and he redoubled his efforts, tracing patterns over your clit with his tongue at an almost frantic pace and adding a third finger to the mix, curling them expertly into the spot he knew would bring you to pure bliss.

The added stretch was enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, but the delicious pressure to your sweet spot was what finally tipped you over the edge. Your back arched off the bed from the pleasure, and your thighs closed tight around his head as you came. A moan so loud you could barely believe it came from your body tore itself from your throat, and it was several long moments before you came back to yourself, panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath. “God,” you breathed, finally releasing your boyfriend from your vice-like grip. “That was amazing.”

“Tengen is fine,” the man teased, grinning at you as he crawled over your body once again. “And I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but we’re not done yet.”

His joke had you rolling your eyes, and you swatted his shoulder as you huffed out a laugh. “I’m never complimenting you again, it all goes straight to your head.”

He laughed at your words, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss before giving any sort of response. “I bet you’ll rethink that ‘no compliments’ decision here in a minute.”

Arching a brow, you retorted, “Yeah? Then you better get to work making me regret it.”

“Gladly.”

He rocked his hips against you for a moment, teasing you a bit longer before he adjusted and finally gave you what you wanted. The air was punched from your lungs as he pressed into you, and even though he’d prepped you there was still a little bit of a stretch. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of you around him, and when he finally bottomed out, he moaned with relief.

There was a pause as he gave you both a moment to adjust to the feeling, and just before you could squirm or otherwise urge him to keep going, Tengen opened his eyes again, his gaze full of desire, and started to move his hips. His pace was slow for a moment, but it wasn’t long before he found his rhythm.

You couldn’t help the little gasps and whimpers you let out with practically every thrust, arching into him as much as you could, one hand coming up to grip his bicep, the other tugging at the sheets. Apparently needing more contact as badly as you did, he lowered himself further onto you, supporting his weight on his elbows rather than his hands. Though nothing about the angle of his thrusts really changed, having more of his skin touching yours sent sparks of pleasure throughout your whole body, and you were quick to steal another kiss from him. 

Tengen eagerly reciprocated, and wasted no time invading your mouth with his tongue, desperate to consume as much of you as he could. When he finally had to pull away to breathe, you whined, despite the fact that you were also in need of oxygen. He didn’t go far though, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your jaw, pausing long enough to graze his teeth on a sensitive spot behind your ear, before continuing his path down your throat; the only thing that stopped him from going further down your body again was the fact that he would’ve had to stop fucking you. Instead he satisfied himself with leaving marks along your collarbone and teasing your nipple with his right hand.

The touch drew a loud moan from you, and if you hadn’t been so consumed with pleasure you would’ve been annoyed by the smug smirk you could feel him pressing into your skin. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him as close to you as you could. It limited his range of motion a bit, but he switched from heavy thrusts to impassioned rolls of his hips without much change to his rhythm.

The slight change in angle had the head of his cock pressing into your sweet spot almost relentlessly, and now there was the added stimulation of his pubic bone grinding into your clit with every roll of his hips. You attempted to kiss him again, but you just wound up moaning and panting against each other’s mouths, pleasure washing over you in waves. Releasing his bicep from your grip, you once again tangled your fingers in his hair, the silvery strands growing damp with sweat. Your other hand relented its death grip on the sheets, instead resting on his back and pressing him even closer. You made an attempt to tell him how good you felt, how you were close to the edge again, but it just sounded like a jumbled, moaning mess in your own ears. 

He seemed to understand well enough, because he pressed his forehead to yours as he spoke. “‘M close too,” he panted, his movements becoming a bit more frantic, nearly desperate to get you both to that peak again. He made no move to pull out, but you knew him well enough to know he was considering it, since he hadn’t worn a condom. 

You weren’t about to have that, though. Tightening your legs around him once again and tugging at his hair, you managed to demand, “Don’t you dare pull out.” 

He swore at your words, his hips stuttering for a moment before he picked up the pace again, his movements uncoordinated even as you rocked your hips up to meet him over and over again. With a particularly harsh tug at your nipple and a desperate moan of your name, he came. You tumbled over that peak right after him, the hot feeling of his cum filling you pulling a silent scream from your lips as you clawed at his back. 

With the way you were still wrapped around him, it was impossible for him not to collapse on top of you, but you didn’t mind; having his weight pressing you into the bed was kind of nice, actually. A few minutes passed without either of you speaking, both of you working to catch your breath, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence by any means. As you laid there, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, a faint smile on your lips, and you slowly relaxed your hold on your partner. You lightly scratched his scalp with your fingernails, and you could’ve sworn you heard him start purring at the feeling.

“My love?” Tengen mumbled, bumping his nose lightly against yours.

Slowly, you opened your eyes again to look up at him. “Yes?”

“Happy birthday.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from your lips, the attempted kiss made pointless from how much you were both smiling.

once again, happy birthday friend! i love you and i am so so so glad that we've become so close over the last year i love you and i hope you have a great day today 💜

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla @pixelcafe-network @stuckinthewrongworld

@entirelysein-e @sugurei @whatthefucksatan @roselleviennesstuff @dr-runs-with-scissors

@teddybeartoji

dividers by adornedwithlight

join my taglist!

[hellcheeriest]

i bet hes never had a backstreet guy

Twitch Streamer!Eddie x Single Father!Steve

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Steve and Dustin arrive at the convention, Steve finds Eddie more attractive in person, Eddie finds Steve attractive in general, Robin and Chrissy begin to figure some things out.

Content warnings: Slight age gap (Steve is 31, Eddie is 26) Steve feels as though he's too old to be acting like he is (I know 31 isn't old! Steve just grew up too fast as a teen dad, so he feels like his mind is beyond his years.) light angst, smoking, swearing, flirting

A/N: hey team.... lol. so sorry for the wait! now i wrote this between the hours of 2-4am (as i am uploading it is 4:10) so i apologize for any mistakes! Thank you for reading!

W/C:4.6k

STEVE HARRINGTON

“Dustin! Slow down!” Steve called out. His son had already made it halfway across the parking lot, practically sprinting to the doors.

“Come on Dad!” Dustin turned around and let his dad catch up. He grabbed the elder's hand, pulling him along.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve kept a tight hold on Dustin's hand. He’d done his research on convention etiquette and came across an article about adults losing their children and he told himself he’d be completely sure of where Dustin was at all times. The backpack he donned was filled with multiple water bottles, and his wallet had both cash and his debit and credit cards in case of any financial emergency.

They’d gotten there much earlier than they needed to, but with Steve’s anxiety and Dustin’s exhilaration, neither of them minded having to wait around until they opened the doors for the panel. Dustin talked Steve’s ear off, rambling about anything and everything related to the convention.

Steve fiddled with the tag on the lanyard he and Dustin were given upon entry, and he finally realised the reality of the scenario. Soon, he’d be in a room with not only a hundred other people, but the man he’d been pining for in secret for the past who knows how long. He was brought out of his thoughts by Dustin tugging on his sleeve.

The two filed into the large room along with a bunch of other people, and Steve’s grip on Dustin’s arm was probably tighter than it should’ve been as they found their way to an open pair of seats. The group that Steve had paid an exorbitant amount of money to see would be taking the stage soon, and Steve could feel his son practically vibrating next to him.

“You sure you’re gonna make it through this without exploding?” Steve asked and Dustin nodded.

“I have to!” Dustin exclaimed and Steve laughed, putting a hand on his son's head, twisting his fingers into his curls. Dustin wore a bright yellow sweater Steve recognized as his own, and the smile he wore was brighter than Steve had seen in a while. More people would pour into the room, and the multiple conversations would be overwhelming if Steve wasn’t focused on the way the lights dimmed and a woman walked on stage.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” She called into the microphone. The voices around quieted, and Steve tensed in his seat. “My name is Tory, and I will be hosting the event we’ve all come out here for. So, what do you say we get our guests up here and get this thing started?” The audience cheered and the streamers came on stage one by one before walking to their respective seats. A guy with dirty blond curls led the way up the stage, introduced as ‘Gareth,’ and the rest followed in. There was Austin, Chrissy (who Steve recognized from the singular stream he’d watched), Robin and Jeff. They all seemed to notice at the same time as the audience that Eddie wasn’t trailing behind them. After a moment, the applause faded and Gareth sighed into the microphone in front of him.

“This asshole.” The audience laughed, and only a moment later did Eddie shuffle on stage. Clapping and cheering surrounded Steve, but he could hardly hear it as his eyes focussed on Eddie’s form. 

It was different to seeing him through a TV screen, and he wasn’t sure how Eddie could get any more attractive. His hair was loose, reaching down past his collarbones. It was curly, and wild, and free. He wore a pair of black skinny jeans, torn at the knees and thighs, chains hanging from two of his belt loops. His shirt was looser, the white fabric clashing with the black of the tattoo’s that spread down both of  his arms, and had graphic text of a band name Steve could vaguely recall. He could feel Dustin’s grip on his arm as he too watched in awe, although for a completely different reason. Eddie finally reached his chair, taking a theatrical bow before sitting down. 

“I love you, Eddie!” Someone called from farther back in the room. Eddie’s eyebrows raised and he smiled.

“Woah,” He spoke into his microphone, pulling a piece of his hair over his mouth. “Love you too.” Part of the audience cheered and Eddie leaned away from his microphone.

“Stop flirting with the audience, man.” Gareth scolded half-heartedly and Eddie returned his words with a raised middle finger, sparking genuine laughter from Gareth.

“So!” Tory spoke, cutting off the pair's bickering. Let's start off with a few games, yeah?”

About half an hour and a couple of games later, they’d finally reached the question portion of the panel. Tory explained that they would start off with submitted questions and then move to having a few audience members ask their own. Pulling out a clipboard, presumably the clipboard that held the predetermined questions, Tory smiled.

“Alright! First question is from ‘Hellfire’, with an ‘i’ on Twitter. It reads, ‘Robin when did you first realise you were a lesbian?’” Robin smiled and thought for a quick moment before answering. 

“Well, I think I've always known, you know? Like, I never had actual crushes on boys in school and I remember asking myself why I couldn't like girls like the boys liked girls. But then after I got older and learned the queer people existed, and what each label meant, is when I really was able to realise who I am.” Robin rambled, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. The audience gave her claps and snaps and cheers of encouragement.

“Beautifully said, Robin! Our next question is for Austin-” The voice of the host faded away as Steve zeroed in on Eddie once again. He was resting his chin on his pale hand, chunky rings and bands covered his fingers and chipped black nail polish was painted messily on his nails. Even from where they sat, Steve could see the way the corner of Eddie’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, smile lines and dimples on his cheeks accompanying the grin that blessed Eddie's face. The purple and yellow lighting gave his hair and skin a glow that Steve found terribly alluring. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, getting lost in the bright baritone of Eddie’s voice as it mixed in with the others, studying the man before him as if he’d be tested afterwards. He only came back to reality when Eddie’s chuckle crackled through the microphone, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually tune into the words being said.

Soon, the pre-submitted questions had dwindled and after the last few had been asked they moved to having audience members voice their own queries. The audience questions were less organised, many asking about mundane attributes such as favourite meals or shows while others were completely obscure and had the panel struggling to answer.

“Well, we have time for just one more question from the audience.” And before Steve knew it, his son’s hand was shooting up. “Alright, you in the yellow, back there!” A smile spread across Dustin’s face as he stood and made his way to the microphone placed in the aisle between seats.

“So,” Dustin began nervously. Steve watched as he fiddled with his fingers, a nervous tick he’d developed. “Uh, my question is for Eddie?”

“Shoot, little man.” Eddie smiled, warm and welcoming, and Steve tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Ah, um. So, you talk about how school was for you quite often and I wanted to know how exactly you overcame all the uh, the name calling and everything?" Dustin was stuttering through a few words and Steve wanted nothing more than to go over and rub his boy's back. He could do that when Dustin returned. Eddie's face softened and he started to fiddle with the rings that Steve wondered always riddled his fingers.

"Yeah. So for anyone who doesn't watch me that often, I do streams where I talk about my unfortunate middle school and high school years to kind of-- shed light on what it's like for kids who were and are like me," Eddie started. "Uh I was called names," He moved a hand in Dustin's direction. "Messed with physically, all that. As for your question, I think I just started to realise that I'm not what any of those assholes say I am. That they can't push me around anymore.

Obviously, things might work differently for other people but that's what worked for me personally. Plus I was held back a couple of years so my bullies were out of my school life and I was able to be who I am." A few people from the crowd clapped, egging on the rest. Dustin beamed at Eddie's response.

"Thank you," Was the last thing Dustin said before he stepped away from the microphone and back to his seat beside his father.

"How was that?" Steve asked his son who was practically vibrating in his chair.

“That was so cool!” Dustin whispered and Steve smiled. Little did he know how cool it was going to get.

“Who knew you were such a poet, Eddie?” Tory asked and Eddie laughed and shook his head.

“Well, I am a songwriter so I'm technically halfway there.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

“That sounds about right.” Tory spoke over the few cheers that broke out. “Well, folks. That’s the end of our time here. Give it up for our wonderful guests!” Applause roared throughout the room as the panel stood and waved to the audience as they left. Steve felt like he could breathe again. He held Dustin close as they made their way outside, just as he had on the way in, and once the warm sun fell on their skin Steve took the backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a few granola bars and bottles of water. Steve spoke again after a few minutes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He stated as he zipped the backpack up, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Really?” Dustin asked from his seat on the concrete curb. “What is it?”

“Can’t tell you. But, we have to be there in the next fifteen minutes so we should make our way over there.” Steve pointed to his watch as Dustin stood up. The boy was obviously starting to grow tired, though the afternoon sun shining in the sky should mean he should still be energised. He tired easily, Steve found, and between the fact Steve knew Dustin didn't get much sleep the night prior and the amount of excitement that filled the boy, Steve was surprised he hadn't crashed yet.

“Lead the way, father dearest.” Dustin said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as he could. That was okay, he’d be truly enthusiastic soon.

EDDIE MUNSON

Eddie thanked any god that was out there for the short break he and his friends were given after the panel. It was so much fun being able to talk to his fans, though he found it unfortunate that it was by way of him being on a stage. A specific boy who asked a question stuck out to him. Surprisingly over the others who shouted compliments or "I love you's" at him. Yep. Just a young boy in a large yellow sweatshirt, probably in his middle school or early high school years asking how he overcame the bullying. Eddie swore it almost done broke his heart.

He took a swig of his bottled water and ate a few pieces of the slightly stale pizza that sat in the small room he and his friends were provided. Eddie popped the tape out of his walkman to flip it around. He closed the lid, and pressed down the play button, letting the sound of his mixtape fill his ear through the single earbud he had in.

Wayne had poked fun at him when he bought it. ‘You tryna be old-school or somethin’?’ He’d said as he rubbed his knuckles into his nephew's scalp. Eddie missed his uncle, and couldn't wait to go see the man someday soon.

"I'm so excited to go meet everyone!" Chrissy gushed. She sat on the loveseat, Robin next to her. 

Haha, get it?

"I'm just happy I get to be with you, Chris. I don't know how I would handle everyone by myself." Robin smiled sheepishly. God, Eddie was gonna barf if Robin kept this up. How could two people be so clueless?

Literally, just ask her out already you idiot.

"I'm gonna make my way over to where I gotta be. Good luck, girls." Eddie clipped his walkman onto his jeans waistline and shot finger guns at the two.

"Good luck, Eddie!" Chrissy jumped up to hug him and over her shoulder, Eddie winked at Robin. Robin returned a shy look as Chrissy pulled away.

"Bye, Eddie," Robin mumbled and Eddie huffed humorously before leaving and shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath, and finally started to make his way to the next phase of completing this con.

-

It had been about half an hour of meeting fans, taking photos, and receiving small trinkets from crafty fans that he graciously took and thanked their makers. He wasn’t sure of the last time he’d felt so appreciated.

"I love you!" A fan said as they waved each other off.

"I love you too," Eddie would return those words multiple times, and each time he meant it. The photographer called for the next people in line. The next thing he knew, a familiar flash of yellow entered his vision and he recognized the owner of a mop of brown, curly locks. Eddie grinned. Then he noticed the figure following the young man. He was tall, and broad, and also had a mop of brown hair on the top of his head. His hair was not curly like the boy he was with.

Wow, okay.

"Hey, little man!" Eddie brought back the nickname from earlier as the boy tucked himself into Eddie's side, the other man standing just behind his son and in turn behind Eddie.

"Hi!" Yellow shirt was ecstatic and Eddie hugged the boy back. Eddie took a quick look over his shoulder at the slightly taller man, blinking him a greeting and receiving a nod in return. Eddie was sure he’d never seen someone so handsome.

Handsome. He couldn't believe he was using that word, but matched completely with what he was seeing. Broad shoulders, swoopy hair, and shiny eyes. Freckles, straight white teeth and a warmth that radiated off of his body. Eddie wanted to lean into it, always feeling so cold. This guy totally would’ve bullied him in school. But, here he was, not a malicious gilt in his eye.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t as over high school as he thought.

"Three, two, one." The photographer counted down before the flash struck, capturing the image. The youngest started to move and Eddie grabbed onto his shoulders.

"Hey," He started and the boy's confused eyes met Eddies. "Just wanted to remind you of how awesome you are." Eddie's smile was as soft as his eyes were and the latter's eyes widened. The photographer shouted out, trying to keep the momentum, and Eddie wished the boy farewell, giving one last look to the other man. The latter looked back at him, his expression was unreadable, but devastatingly attractive. The two left and Eddie continued on with the now shorter line of people left.

CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

Chrissy sighed as she lay down on the loveseat in the group's room. Taking photos and meeting fans personally was super fun, but also very tiring. Robin was going to return soon. She had just left to grab a couple more bottles of water since she and Rob had finished theirs and the only one in the room was Eddie’s and frankly, she did not want to ingest whatever that man's mouth touches. (It was mostly cigarettes, that's all she knew.)

Her mind wandered back to Robin. Chrissy rested her head on the small pillow that sat in the corner of the cushions, almost wishing it was Robin's chest she were resting on instead.

Wait, what? She couldn't think of her best friend like this, could she? 

She couldn’t help but realise she thought this way a lot. What would Robin think? Yeah, she was a lesbian, but that doesn't mean she's interested in just any girl who comes along. Plus, she's Robin's best friend. Keyword, friend. There's no way Robin likes her in any other way than platonically. What would Robin think? Would she hate Chrissy? Her thoughts were cut short when the taller girl burst through the door, Eddie and the rest of the guys following.

"Guys you will never believe this. That one kid that asked that really deep question to me, came to my booth and I think he was there with his dad or something. Anyway the dad, or whatever, was like, super fucking hot--" Eddie's voice trailed off. Chrissy wanted to pay attention to Eddie's rambling, she did, but she had too much to think about right now.

"Hey," Robin's voice cut into Chrissy's thoughts from her spot on the floor next to the loveseat. As much as she loved to hear Robin speak, it was currently the last thing she wanted to hear "You okay?" 

"Yeah, 'm just tired 's all," Chrissy mumbled. Robin looked skeptical before nodding and sending Chrissy a sympathetic look.

-

Chrissy ended up going back to the hotel early while everyone else stayed back a bit longer before they left for a restaurant for a celebratory dinner. Robin offered to stay with her, but Chrissy waved her off and told her to have fun with the guys. Robin promised to bring her back some leftovers and let her know she hopes Chrissy feels better. Chrissy smiled weakly before Robin would leave and Chrissy would change into a tank top and shorts and slip into the sheets of the bed she would have to share with the girl she was currently struggling over tonight.

She felt herself tear up.

Why did this have to be so hard? Why did this have to happen now and not in like, high school? She couldn't be having a sexuality crisis right now, not while they were supposed to be having fun at the convention for the next couple of days. Chrissy was scared of rejection, she admitted to herself. Not having feelings bigger than their current friendship, but the idea that she tells Robin these feelings and Robin rejects her and never speaks to her again and--

The tears slid down her cheeks and Chrissy wiped them away.

It was no use though when the last tears would be replaced quickly.

STEVE HARRINGTON

Music quietly played through the speakers of Steve's car. He had placed an order for pickup at his and Dustin's favourite restaurant and they were on their way to go get it. Steve was starving and Dustin was on his way to falling asleep in the passenger seat. After another couple more minutes, they finally arrived at the place and Steve softly nudged Dustin's shoulder.

"I'll be right back, 'kay? Just grabbing the food." He said quietly. Dustin nodded and Steve took that as acknowledgment. He got out of the car and went inside, waiting for a staff member. Someone quickly arrived. Steve told them his business and his name and in return, he earned a big  warm paper bag that would be filled with the dinner. Steve thanked the person who helped him and he walked out of the door and made his way back to his car.

Until he saw a cloud of smoke from where the end of the small parking lot and the wall of the building met. There stood a man who he recognized all too well.

This was stupid. Steve was stupid.

Still, Steve walked over to the other who still wasn't made known of his presence.

"Hey," Steve greeted as he got closer. The long-haired man turned his head, blowing out another cloud of smoke. He tilted his head curiously before he spoke.

"Hi," Eddie said before he dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. "You're the guy that came in with the kid in the yellow, right?" Steve nodded, ignoring how his heart stuttered at the fact he was recognized.

"Yeah, he's my son. I wanted to thank you for what you said to him," Steve began, fiddling with the handle of the paper bag. "He's been having some issues at school. Says watching your videos and stuff makes him feel better." Eddie smiled and rocked back and forth on his feet.

"Nah," He put his cheek to his shoulder and his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. "Sucks that shits happening to him. Looks like times haven't changed, huh?" Steve sighed and pursed his lips in a silent apology. "What's your name, pretty boy?" Eddie asked. Steve laughed and shook his head lightly as blood rushed to his face. God, he hadn’t felt like this in ages.

"Steve," He answered. Eddie stepped forward, leaving limited space between the two. Steve blinked, his legs feeling as though they were full of lead.

"Well, Steve." Eddie pulled something out of his pocket before reaching his arm through the space of Steve's arm and torso, slipping whatever was in his hand into the back pocket of Steve's jeans. He let his hand stay there a second, eyes not reaching Steve's, but rather trailing over each feature on his face. After what felt like forever, Eddie removed his hand. He patted Steve's hip. "An… Offer. If you want it." Eddie stared up at Steve through his eyelashes. Their height difference wasn't much, but it was enough for Eddie to have to turn his eyes upwards.

Eddie took a step back. Steve sighed.

"I have to return to my friends. They're probably wondering where I am." He took one last look, up and down, at Steve. "Hope that serves you well," Eddie smirked before he turned around and walked back towards the entrance of the restaurant.

Steve froze for a second before he reached into the pocket, still warm from Eddie's hand. He pulled out what the other had put in. It was a wad of paper. Confused, Steve unrolled it. There he found digits scribbled. Eddie had given him his number.

ROBIN BUCKLEY

"Night, Ed! Night Austin!" Robin called from down the hallway, receiving a couple of grumbled replies. She giggled to herself before she continued her way to her room. She got to the door, pulled out her key and let herself inside. There she found minimal lighting and a mound under the covers of the bed, some strawberry blonde hair peeking out from the top. 

Robin shut the door as she sympathetically sighed. She put the pasta she'd saved for Chrissy, her favourite, on the vanity and quietly made her way over to Chrissy's side of the bed. Robin put a gentle hand on Chrissy's exposed shoulder.

"Chris? You awake?" She mumbled quietly. No response. Chrissy's cheeks were stained with tears and Robin bit her cheek. Why had Chrissy been crying? She wasn't feeling too good, Robin knew, but what had made her cry? She pushed Chrissy's hair behind her ear and stayed there for a moment before returning to the door where she took off her shoes and coat, accidentally knocking Chrissy's coat off of the hanger. It was a quiet sound, but still, Chrissy awoke.

"Robin?" She yawned as she sat up and turned to where the other was standing.

"Y-yeah. Sorry for waking you," Robin's apology was soft as she picked up the smaller coat. She paused for a moment after hanging it back up. "Chris? Were you... Crying?" Robin moved back towards the bed. She was never the best at this type of stuff. She never knew how to help people feel better, oftentimes she felt useless in these situations. But, her best friend was hurting, and she needed to try.

"No! Uh..." Chrissy pulled her knees to her chest before huffing defeatedly. "Yeah,"

"How come?" Robin sat down and shuffled closer to Chrissy, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into a side hug. "You okay?" Chrissy sniffled and shook her head. "What's wrong?"

"Can't tell you." Chrissy put her forehead to her knees. "You'll hate me." Robin ran her hand along the shorter girl's back.

"I won't hate you, Chris. I could never hate you. I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything." Robin was even more concerned. Throughout the years Robin had known her, she’d never seen Chrissy this way, so full of self depreciation. The only time that had come close was just after her ex-boyfriend, Jason, broke up with her. But even then, she seemed more relieved than upset. Whatever was bugging her had to be serious. Chrissy was silent for a moment, the only sound in the room being the friction of Robin's hand on Chrissy's tank top.

"I think I like girls," Chrissy said. Robin's jaw almost dropped before she went to console her friend.

"Well, Chris, you know I'm a lesbian. Why would you think I’d-"

"I think I like you." Chrissy whimpered.

Oh.

"Chrissy... You're serious? You're not playing with me, right? Because this has happened before where a girl tells me they like me as a joke, or they think they like girls and want to use me as, like, the test to find out if they really do, and then turn around and--"

"I'm serious Rob, I just..." Chrissy let tears roll down her face once again and Robin unconsciously let herself wipe them away. "This is all so new to me and you're my best friend and I don't know how to feel." Robin frowned. She remembered her sexuality crisis in grade eight and how hard it was for her. She felt for Chrissy at this moment. Carefully she turned Chrissy around and pulled her onto her lap, grabbing the hands that covered the latter's face and moving them away. Robin smiled gently as she spoke.

"Hey," She started with. "It'll be okay, Chrissy. Trust me. It's hard for a while, I know." Robin brought Chrissy's head to her shoulder. They were silent for a moment until. "I like you too," Robin whispered. Chrissy gasped and pulled back, staring at Robin with surprise.

"You-- You do?" She gasped, staring up at Robin with big eyes. Robin took Chrissy's face into her hands pulling her in to leave a kiss on her forehead. Chrissy was a light shade of pink and less upset than before.

"I do. I have for a long time." Robin laughs. Chrissy smiles and lays her head back on Robin's shoulder. They stay there for a few minutes before it seems like Chrissy's about to fall asleep. Robin carefully took Chrissy out of her lap and laid her on the bed. "We'll talk about this in the morning, 'kay?" She said softly. Chrissy nodded and Robin smiled fondly. "I'll be right back." She pulled the blankets back over Chrissy's half-conscious body and she left to the bathroom before pulling out her phone.

Me

guess who might have a chance at getting a girlfriend

eddie help me

After a few minutes, Eddie didn't reply. He must be sleeping, Robin thought.

When actually, Eddie was up making a few text messages of his own.

tags:

@marklee-blackmore

[beevean]

So some recent... discourse put into my mind the concept of "power fantasy", and how people relate to it in different ways. Of course, I'm talking about Hector :P

Is Hector, in the games, a power fantasy? I think the answer is "yes but actually no but actually yes it's complicated".

Let's be honest, first: Hector is a product of his time. He is, in many aspects, Castlevania's response to the wave of edginess that was en vogue in the mid-2000s - I don't compare CoD to ShTH for no reason lol. Hector was always meant to be an anti-hero contrasting the pure heroes the games always starred before him:

—Why did you choose the theme of "revenge" for this game? Iga: Up to now, the Belmonts have been seen as the good guys. I thought it'd be nice to do something other than a moralistic "good triumps over evil" theme sometime. After all, Castlevania has always had an excellent world for telling a "dark hero" story. Alucard would be one such character… though even he is fighting for a just cause: "I've got to stop my Father!" So he's still kind of a good guy. This time, though, I wanted the motivation itself to be impure. So this theme is what I came up with, and then I thought it would be even more interesting if each side was out for revenge on the other.

Hector has "impure" motivations. His quest is completely selfish: while all the other protagonists want to face Dracula (or others in his place) because it's the right thing to do, Hector is just in to kill the man who ruined his life. In fact, he really couldn't care less about the Curse, and multiple times in the game he asks why can't Trevor just deal with the issues he doesn't want to deal with lol. This is in line with other characters of the same caliber, such as Shadow sneering at a city being invaded by aliens until there is something in for him, or Guts who declares that he's willing to let a whole town fall prey to demons, as long as Casca is safe. However, this is not a detriment to Hector's character like it would be nowadays, as he's also very much mean to be "cool": while obviously every protagonist has his cool factor, even going back to Simon in the first games who defeated Dracula all by himself and then had to heroically struggle with the Curse, Hector is cool in that, well, deliciously over-the-top way that was all the rage back then. He can ride wyverns as he slashes them, he can go toe to toe with Trevor himself to the point that even he is impressed, he can forge a gun and an electric guitar, cutscenes show him punching a stone devil with his bare first, he gloats in Dracula's face that he can nullify his Curse... yeah, he's a gigachad lol. The flaws are only meant to make him cooler and not "boring", as paragon heroes were seen at the time.

I, personally, never cared about this part. I'm not the target audience for this kind of power fantasy. Sure, I like that Hector is over-the-top cool and I will always joke about his most outlandish feats, but I'm not so keen on reducing him to those alone. I couldn't even explain why avenging your dead lover counts as part of a power fantasy lol.

This is why I latched on so much on the first half of his story, the one where Hector deals with Dracula, and why I insist that Hector is much more than his admittedly cliché archetype of "angry man on a revenge quest".

Calling Hector "stoic" is not even knowing the meaning of the word. Calling pretty much any CV protagonist "stoic" is factually wrong, as even the more serious ones like Alucard and Shanoa have other depths to them (Alucard is still grieving for his mother and we see it in a nightmare, Shanoa was deliberately made stoic and she subtly longs to feel again), but Hector doesn't even begin to fit the definition of "One who is seemingly indifferent to or unaffected by joy, grief, pleasure, or pain". The whole point of CoD is that Hector was left so emotionally vulnerable by his grief that both Isaac and Zead used him as a puppet. Anger is the complete antithesis of stoicism. "well anger is still a toxically masculine emotion" - memes aside, Hector shows other emotions too, most notably around Julia, the only person with which we see how actually gentle and polite he is when he doesn't have Dracula's influence scrambling his brain. By the way, you cannot ignore the effects of the Curse on both Hector and Isaac when you analyze them, especially the former:

It can't be plainer than this.

And it doesn't come out of nowhere, because not only Julia herself tries to warn Hector that Devil Forgemasters are susceptible to the Curse, he acts vulnerable around her. He apologizes for his unjust outbursts, sympathizes with her plight, is visibly affected by her grief when Isaac dies... sure, it might be all because he's lowkey crushing on her, if you want to see it that way (and I do have my words over the plot point of Julia looking like Rosaly: I would have preferred if the game had more time to show that Hector grew to see Julia as her own person beyond her appearance), but the point is that this behavior highly contrasts with how angry and aggressive he is to everyone else, which the reveal of the Curse recontextualizes.

Also, just saying, while anger can be toxic, the point of these storylines is usually precisely that revenge is bad. Unchecked anger is bad for you, and you shouldn't let yourself fall down that spiral, lest you lose yourself. Isaac got consumed by his own hatred and died as a tool; Hector realized in time that he should snap out of it and survives, also because he was nice to Julia and so she grew to care about him and saved him when he tried to kill himself <- a reaction that is very unmasculine, might I add, as toxic masculinity dictates that men should make other people pay for their pain. bro. bro this is the complete antithesis of "toxic masculinity". Again, this is really not knowing the meaning of the word.

I don't even need to pull examples from the manga, but just for completion's sake:

iunno about you chief, but someone who bursts into tears just because wifey told him that she's happy he was born isn't exactly the portrayal of toxic masculinity to me.

Which makes me segue into the next point!

Hector and Isaac are victims of abuse, and this is another very important angle to understand them. And I'm not just talking about their childhoods, of which we only get hints, although of course it does matter that the two experienced so much hatred and rejection in their youth that Dracula was the better option for them.

We don't see the details, but Dracula affected both of them deeply. He put them in a competitive dynamic, favoring Hector over Isaac: Isaac grew bitter with resentment, which made him double down on his loyalty to Dracula, while Hector only got the appreciation he craved at the price of his very humanity and morals, which weighed on him. The point of this favoritism is not really the core of their rivalry in game, as that one was caused by Hector's betrayal, but it gives a different dimension to the character. It would have been easy to have the mistreated guy the one who decided to turn his back to Dracula, but no, it was the golden child. Isaac was so entrenched in this dynamic that he never broke free, choosing instead to blame Hector and do everything in his power to prove himself to an uncaring Lord, including (in the manga) killing his own underlings so that he would be free to face Hector by himself. From PtR:

"My own body is proof of Your expectations for him" is such a hard-hitting line. Isaac fears that he didn't even disappoint his Lord, because his Lord didn't have expectations for him in the first place. It's Hector the one he's so proud of.

And Hector hates it. By all means, he should be happy to have a home, to be respected and appreciated and free to use his powers. And he used to be!

"Lord Dracula... You once accepted and needed my powers. There was a time when such a thing gave me joy..."

Hector was grateful for his Lord, but he couldn't live anymore in the safety of the castle, if the price was committing indiscriminate murder for the sake of a senseless revenge, going against his morals and being used as a weapon. Hector had to make a choice: keep living under Lord Dracula's protection, but losing his humanity piece by piece, or breaking free and facing the world that hated him, but as a free man?

Hector chose freedom over conditional safety and love. He was ready to die, as long as he died a free man. He put himself first, he turned his back against people who did not truly appreciate him, and despite the mess he left behind it was the right decision. And that's the power fantasy I adore, and that is what makes him a strong character in my opinion. It's the embodiment of achieving self-confidence, the healthy selfishness, the affirmation of the self when everyone else around you only sees you as an object or a prize, the reassurance that even if you fall, you can always get up and try again and become a person you can be proud of.

And Hector, after breaking free, very much acts like a victim of abuse. I spent countless words over how he displays the belief that he needs to do something to earn the right to be loved by Rosaly, unaccepting of the fact that she simply does because, well, he likes him and sees the good in him, and that's it. I wrote a whole analysis on how this belief stems from a sad naiveté on how the world works, because Hector is naive underneath the aloof exterior, and it's not something to make fun of him for, but a tragic result of living under Dracula for so long. I'll also point again to him having breakdowns because he hates himself and sees himself as inherently unlovable.

I could also spend all the words about the parallels about how Hector loves Dracula and how he loves Rosaly:

In both cases, he latches onto the only person who has showed him a modicum of kindness. He wants to give his life for them. The difference being, of course, that Dracula only appreciates Hector for what he does (and I could also go into a whole tangent on how Hector was personally raised by Dracula to be his knight and he has a piece of his essence inside him which parallels how abusive parents see their children as an extension of themselves), while Rosaly for who he is. With Dracula, Hector understands that all the shallow care in the world doesn't matter if he isn't also respected as a person: he still cares about him, in some fashion, but not the point of clinging.

And if Hector is ready to lay down his life for Rosaly because she finally showed him what real love looks like, is it any wonder that seeing her die would spark such a fury in him that it makes him prey to the Curse and to being once again twisted into a tool?

The power fantasy comes from the part where Hector breaks free of the abuse and manipulation - twice over. But he is also relatable, with all of his flaws, weaknesses, and mistakes he makes. The whole point of Hector's journey in the first half of his story is that he feels the need to atone for his sins, and the consequences of his actions all catch up to him in the worst of ways. Ignoring this to reduce Hector to an edgelord who only spends his life angry and then hooks up with a Rosaly replacement (which incidentally also ignores Julia's personality and agency and I might even call as misogynist as the plot point itself) is a huge disservice to the thought and care put into him to make him stand out from his own archetype.

Power fantasies are not inherently bad. Depending on the fantasy, they can be inspirational. Hector is inspirational to me, if that wasn't clear, I see part of me in his circumstances and I admire his arc: it tells you, "you can break free too, you have the strength to do so, and you will find people who will love you without reason". And I just generally speaking find him a very well written character despite stemming from a rather outdated context, because all the details come together to make him fleshed out and tridimensional.

[strawberrychampayne]

baby, i was that oblivious…

bradley bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings: none, like one swear word lol

word count: 1205

summary: oblivious!bradley x affectionate!reader!! after realizing his mistake rooster races to try and undo damage he didn't even know he was creating. will he be able too?

Rooster's heart was beating out of his chest as he rushed to his bronco. He could feel his breathing getting heavier as he felt around his jeans for his keys. Why couldn’t he find them? After feeling the same pocket five times he heard the jingle of his keychain and pulled them out. Rooster turned the key in the driver's side door and threw the door open. Slowly at least, this truck was his second love, right after her. Groaning, he threw his head back and stopped for a second to catch his breath in his car. He put the key into the ignition and his engine roared to life. Putting his truck in drive he peeled out of the parking lot and began to race to Y/N’s house. 

Rooster felt like his mind was going one hundred miles a minute. Would Magnet even forgive him? What if she just ignored his explanation? What if she never wanted to talk to him again? No. Magnet wasn’t like that. She got upset with people in the dagger squad before and still made up with them the next day. She would forgive him, right?

Bradley decided to make a quick stop at the store to grab some flowers. He would’ve preferred to have gone to a florist but it was 10 pm and nobody was open. So begrudgingly he grabbed the keys out of the ignition and the rumbling of his truck stopped. Taking a deep breath he thought back to something Y/N had said. 

“I’m just saying what kind of man doesn’t get a girl flowers, Hangman?” Y/N questioned

“The kind that doesn’t care about his lady, Mag. That’s who.” Rooster replied, from behind her. 

“Uh huh, and what kind of flowers have you gotten Roo?” she said, her eyebrow raising.

“I don’t go on many dates but the ones I have gone on I got them based on personality from said girl.” Rooster shot back.

“Personality? Well Roos, what kind of flower would you get me?” Y/N said. 

“Well Mag, you seem like a daffodil kinda girl, so daffodils.” Rooster replied, coolly. 

“Tulips. I like tulips, Rooster. So close and yet so far, huh?” Y/N said with a small smile on her face. 

“As much as I’d love to sit here and talk flowers with you two, I have a date tonight to make up for my last one and I need help.” Hangman butted in. 

Thinking back Rooster began to smile. His girl was like a flower. Beautiful and full of life but delicate. It felt as though he was ripping her petals off at this point. Rushing past many people he made it to the flowers. While scanning the selection his attention was caught by bright pink tulips. Coincidentally near the daffodils. Grabbing the tulips that were wrapped in brown paper that felt almost like a paper bag he all but ran to the checkout line. Swiping his card he grabbed his bag, thanked the cashier kindly and zipped out the door. He walked back to his truck and clambered inside. Turning the key in the engine once again he pulled out of the second parking lot of the night, except this time he was slower. This was the main road after all. 

After driving for 10 minutes he pulled up to her house. He felt his heart rate rising as he pulled to a stop in front of her driveway. He knew she had come home based on the lights that were on in the living room and bedroom. 

He remembers helping her move into this house. She wouldn’t let him carry up a bed until she almost fell down the stairs and he caught her. He carried all the furniture up the stairs after that. 

‘

Rooster pulled his visor down and checked to see how he looked. Did he always look stressed out? Fixing his messy hair and straightening out his tropical attire, he took a deep breath and stepped out of his car. 

He practiced what he was going to say all the way up to her door. He felt like he was shaking as he reached up to knock three times on her door. He waited a moment trying to hear any movement in the house. After waiting for two minutes, he counted anxiously in his head, and he knocked again. Then he heard the shuffling over feet as they ascended the stairs and stood behind the door. 

“Go away. I don’t want to see anyone, Nat.” Y/N said her voice was croaky. He could hear her pacing slightly near the door.  

“Um, it’s not Nat. It's a Rooster.” Rooster replied. 

The pacing behind the door stopped suddenly. He could hear a groan before the door opened quickly. 

“I really don’t want to do this right now, Bradley. I told you I wasn’t feeling well.” she said quietly. Going to shut the door, it was stopped by Rooster's foot. She felt a rush of emotions hit her. 

“I know but I also realized I was a complete dick tonight. I didn’t realize what you were insinuating. Please just let me talk to you.” Rooster said, his voice low. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Bradley. I have been trying everything in my power to get you to notice me. I took so much courage to be able to even ask you that. I understand that you are not required to like me back but I am allowed to be hurt I feel.” she said as tears began to stream down her face again. 

Rooster felt his heart start to break. He was at a loss for words as he watched her shoulders slump and her lip quiver. Seconds felt like hours as he tried to rack his brain for something to say. Did he apologize again or try to explain? Unfortunately for him you began to speak again.

“I don’t know if you were just oblivious to what I-”

“Yes! Y/N, baby I was that oblivious but I’m not anymore. I just want to make this all up to you.” Rooster cut her off. “And I’m so sorry for making you cry and feel like I didn’t like you back but I promise I want to make this up to you. Please.” 

“I just can’t, Bradley. You have to go. I will see you at work tomorrow.” she said, tears still falling. 

“No, sweetheart please I just want to fix this” he rushed out

“The best thing you can do is leave. I said I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Bradley.” she said before sliding his foot out of the way and shutting the door. 

“I’ll just leave these here and see you tomorrow, Mag. Um, goodnight.” Rooster said, getting no reply. 

Rooster made a vow right there that he would do whatever he could to win her back. She could say run laps and he’d ask how many? His body felt tense as he walked back to his bronco. He quietly pulled out his keys and pulled away from her house. The drive back home was quiet as he planned to do something, anything, to win his Magnet back.

taglist:

@missmarveledsblog @tianna8320

so here's part 2! I was originally going to only do 2 parts but felt like it would be so rushed so here's a little angst. please let me know your thoughts! stay hydrated, stay healthy, stay perfect! - strawberry🍓

[peachyfnaf]

I'm sorry but "MY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS WITH A DISORDER<3" really made my day and I needed you to know

🤣🤣🤣

I can't believe Nexus is bullying peepaw war criminal.

Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?

(Please talk about baby cringe Lord Nexus, I want to hear about your blorbo 🙏)

That's because Nexus IS my beautiful princess with a disorder, I'll have you know <3 they're diseased but it's okay I can give them their tetanus and flu shots and it'll all be better I GOT THIS

But. ahem, okay, blorbo yapping time. I'm not even gonna say "I'll try to keep this short" because I know it wont end up that way HAHAHAHAHA

"Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?"

I... have absolutely no idea!!!1! (and also it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize peepaw war criminal was Ruin KJDFHSDF)

The most frustrating thing about canon Nexus is how his morals, motivations, and goals seem to see-saw back and forth all the time. at first, he became how he is now due to Solar's death. he spiraled in his grief, identity-issues, and abandonment. but... now his motivation is to become an all powerful god??? while it's most likely that NSP is at play and affecting his thought process, it's... well, it's really hard to take him seriously as a villain because of it, lol. for an audience to enjoy, and even sympathize in some cases, with a villain, their goals and motivations have to be concrete. they have to be relatable, or at least understandable, but Nexus' whole thing is... not, Imho. and I know I'm not the only person who feels this way!!!

I see a lot of people calling Nexus "cringe", and the thing is, when it comes to canon Nexus, they're not really... wrong??? The worst thing Nexus has done so far is make Old Moon see his past victims, which is fucked up of him to do, but.. so far, that's kind of it??? other than that, his "villainy" consists of saying empty threats and cheesy evil one-liners. hell, he was supposed to kidnap Sun yesterday but instead spent the whole episode yapping and venting to him, chasing Sun around in the worlds darkest game of tag before getting some lead right in the face dkfjhsdfsd

Also, notice how he's only targeted Old Moon when it comes to actual physical violence? not Lunar, Earth, Solar, or Sun, but Old Moon? yeah, I did too. we already know that Nexus does everything because he's lashing out, but as of rn the only target he's gotten his hands on physically being O.M...? well. I think it says a lot. cause' yeah, he sure as shit scared the life out of the other Celestials, but he's never put his hands on them!! the only other one of them he harmed physically was Earth- and not only was he not aiming for her, she was just in the way- he felt immediate regret for his actions once in space, and has yet to even see Earth ever since that day.

So, I really have no idea if he's going to be "redeemed" or not. one second he's showing signs he might be, and the next he's falling further down the "pretty badly written villain" rabbit-hole. if he does get something akin to a redemption arc, he'll prolly mostly be accepted in the eyes of the viewers, considering a lot of peeps sympathize or at least understand where he's coming from, but I seriously doubt the other Celestials would take him back. the only one's who might see him as family/a close friend again are Sun and Solar, but even then, nothing would ever be the same.

I hope he gets redeemed, or at least freed from the hold Dark Sun has on him and he's able to live his own life, I really do. at his core, Nexus is a good person. a good person who was crushed under the weight of the shadow of the man he was born under. and we know this because he used to be New Moon. sweet, dorky New Moon.

New Moon, who made inventions like sentient knives and whoopee cushions. New Moon, who had matching My Little Pony stickers with his best friend. New Moon, who bought a whole ass island-luxury-house for Sun because he wanted to make him feel better and give him the proper space to heal. and New Moon- the poor freshly-baked A.I who gave his all to make sure he could do everything that Old Moon could, but it just wasn't enough. he tried and tried and tried, but it wasn't enough.

So yeah, idk if he's getting one in canon, but to me, he more than deserves a good ending, for the life he was given. let him be at peace.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 16

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Hello! Another day, another chapter!

I really don't have much to ramble about today, but I am back on my tea. This is a new one from the ren faire this year- vanilla chai with sugar and milk. The cup is from the same ren faire (but purchased last year).

let's go let's let's go- I am already impatient to get into this chapter.

Last chapter we ended on a cliffhanger with Luo Binghe totally unconscious- we start this chapter with Shen QIngqiu ready to rescue his man and escape!

It's really so upsetting that he is going back to trash (two bar) spiritually energy in this body when he was so used to his mushroom Unlimited Power p65

RIP Luo Binghe's skull LOL he is really being tossed around like a rag doll. SQQ needs to be more careful. p66

MXTX said forget the only one bed trope, I raise you -> There Was Only One Coffin p67

Fuck. This is actually so scary 10/10 I would pee myself if a little skeletal arm was worming it's way into the coffin I was temporarily occupying (really anything in this book's reality would make me die of fright. as an aside I was talking to my partner about this while watching MDZS donghua yesterday, in the world of cultivators I would be a dumpling stall owner. I could never with the sword training and literal corpses). pp67-68

I CANT 'extenuating circumstances'. SQQ definitely: I just HAD to kiss his cute little forehead to save our lives. p68

i'm crying LOL "a person's abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe's was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu's stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there?" p70

this keeps getting worse LMAO

OOOOO Meng Mo is back! Is it weird that I kind of love this guy? He has such a cool power and is a bit of a dick, but in the best and worst of ways. Him and Airplane give similar energy and I am not mad about it. p72

oh gosh! LBH is either "fatally ill" or "close to death" p72

wait- adding to the above point. he could also be mentally very unwell :( poor buddy -> it's likely this option. p72

so even though SQQ is processing nothing , I think SQQ admitting (not naming the feeling but admitting) that he is feeling a mess of emotions about Luo Binghe is a big step for him! p73

Meng Mo seems to have a lot of feelings about LBH. I am not sure if it's just pride or what but whatever it is he is correct here, "The way this elder sees it, he (LBH) should either kill you (SQQ) or do you!" p74

PLEASE OH NO

I AM WHEEZING

+1000 Protagonist Satisfaction Points for touching LBH's "Heavenly Pillar" p76

IM DYING OH NO

WHY IS THIS EVEN A THOUGHT IF HE THINKS HE'S STRAIGHT "He couldn't exactly help Luo Binghe jerk off under these circumstances, right?!" p76 But like if not these circumstances he is cool with doing it in other circumstances???????????

oh no! SQQ blocking the blades with his bare hand for LBH p79

Dang. the Old Palace Master has been through some shit. p80

Are we getting more of Shen jiu's story??? We have Qiu Haitang here too! p81 (just as an aside because my notes did not revisit this, we do not get more of his story just weird little hints. That I hope Shang Qinghua clears up later). p81

What a terrible combo. Old Palace master is just butthurt Luo Binghe doesn't want him as a teacher or to marry his daughter and Qiu Haitang seems to be just a vile woman with a grudge against SQQ for some reason. pp82-83

Okay but as horrible as OPM is, that cultivation he's doing with his voice is kind of cool. p85

Wait. Did the Old Palace Master have a thing for Su Xiyan? This is so fucking weird for LBH and he's not even conscious pp86-87

reading further the above point got so much worse omg :(((((((((((( I'm so upset for Su Xiyun. p87

It got even worse with the implications of what it meant for Luo Binghe in that sect. That terrible terrible man deserved that horrifying death. Fuck that guy! pp 89-90

OMG SQQ, basically half dead carrying LBH, barely got away from the death flower room, and here we have Tianglang-jun back on his bullshit. p94

SQQ is in such a bad state :o pp94-95

Is this another dime??? Our demon blood piggy bank for SQQ is now at $0.40 p97

YAY! Luo Binghe is awake! (is he going to be okay mentally though??)p 99

Why is Luo Binghe so mad? Like this man just nearly died trying to get you the fuck out of there p100

Fucking finally okay, it got better LBH is realizing what SQQ did while he was unconscious pp102-103

I'm glad they cleared that up (even though there was the other added miscommunication about LBH thinking SQQ was crying when he was actually just in a fuck ton of pain). p104

I am actually so glad that the discussion was interrupted before LBH found out about the dick touching being real LOL p108

MORE DEMON BLOOD. -> SQQ's dime bank is at $0.50

How many times does this man get kidnapped?

We really ended with him being kidnapped again and with Luo Binghe being conned by his own dad. That was so rough. -500 dignity points (not really but it sure feels like it)

[ashenquill]

IT'S SCAR TIME BABAEYYYY HERE COME THE (head)CANONS

He's my favorite which means he suffers the most so this post is a little bit of a downer, not gonna lie. But there's silly stuff in there too I promise!!11!

Scar's full name is Scar Conn Goodtimes. You may be asking yourself: what kind of name is that? How is his middle name con? What kind of parent would do that to their child? WELL, the answer is BECAUSE I SAID SO. Idk I just thought it would be goofy if convex had the middle names "con" and "vex". Soooo yeah lol

As far as origins and backstory are concerned, Scar is half vex and half elf. His mother was a vex hybrid, and had two kids, Cub and Scar (I'll post about Cub tomorrow probably). They're technically half-brothers, but they don't really care enough to talk about the logistics of it. As far as they (and everyone else, atp) are concerned, they're just brothers. Plain and simple.

Scar and Cub grew up without their parents, and were primarily raised by their maternal grandmother, the only human in their family. She taught them anything she knew about their mother, their fathers, and their magic. Thus, Scar and Cub practiced with their vex magic until they were finally able to properly wield it. (Vex magic has many capabilities, especially among family members, but the primary way it manifests is by having a particular trait that it can amplify. Scar, for example, can amplify someone or something's strength.) Scar had a tougher time with it, and it often backfired on him. That, combined with him being incredibly accident-prone, is how he ended up suiting his name so well.

In his late teens, Scar sustained an injury that caused major nerve damage and hindered his ability to walk, but with his magic he was still able to walk with the help of mobility aids (such as canes and crutches, and after a few years, a wheelchair). He refused to believe that it was irreversible, and when Cub made him a set of magic-powered walking braces, he thought his problems were solved. But that is not how chronic pain/illness works, even in a world with magic. So, he still uses a variation of aids, but the braces have to be used sparingly, as they draw from his magic and tire him out more quickly. That's why he mostly uses them when he's HOTGUY YEAH THAT'S RIGHT THIS IS A SUPERHERO AU.

Hotguy was hired by King Ren to head the Royal Guard and protect the city (and the king) from "nefarious evildoers". Of course, he mostly uses it as an excuse to play superhero, to which Cub is unwittingly dragged into. He's Scar's "guy in the chair", and even though he mostly just complains about Scar taking unnecessary risks, they both know he loves it.

More fun facts:

Smells earthy, like grass & pine trees

Hybrid: elf & vex (mixed) ((I’m not projecting you are))

Street smart - Special knowledge of city layout, people-pleasing, manipulation tactics

Likes: coffee (only drinks black coffee on bad days, usually gets something sweet and fun, he's totally a pumpkin spice latte girly), bird-watching, movies, theme parks, cooking/baking

Dislikes: golf (he goes with Cub anyway), reading

Passions: justice/fairness, nature (landscaping, birds), Scarland 

Habits/other details: skin-picks, eats water (with a spoon)

Active in his environment - takes advantage of being overlooked, sort of dejected/resigned to ableism against himself (but never others), not usually aggressive but might try to control situations in other ways, good at finding out information but doesn’t always think to do so

Special, plot-relevant skills: archery, charisma 500, magic = strength

Terrible sleep schedule, somehow a morning person

I love him dearly so I sometimes make bad things happen to him this is just the basic law of author projection <3

[pepi1989]

Hi could you do a safe Ben Shelton alphabet? :) thank uuuu

is this alright? i've never written anything like this lol

SFW Alphabet - Ben Shelton

A = Affection Ben is affectionate in a natural, effortless way. He’s always giving warm hugs, playful touches, and sneaky kisses on the cheek. His love language is physical touch, but he's not overbearing, just the right amount of affection to make you feel adored without being clingy.

B = Best friend As a best friend, Ben would be loyal, fun, and always supportive. He’s the type who brings out the best in you, encouraging your passions and keeping things light with his humor. The friendship would start through a shared love of sports or a common interest, evolving into a strong bond over time.

C = Cuddles Ben loves cuddling, especially after a long day on the court. He prefers being the big spoon, wrapping his arms around you tightly, but doesn’t mind switching it up. He’s a warm and solid presence, making you feel safe and comfortable.

D = Domestic Ben enjoys the idea of settling down, but his tennis career keeps him on the move. When he’s home, though, he’s surprisingly good at handling domestic tasks. He’s not a master chef, but he can whip up a decent meal. Cleaning? He’s more the “helping hand” type, always ready to lend a hand but never doing it alone.

E = Ending If Ben had to break up with someone, he’d be upfront and honest. He wouldn’t ghost or play games, instead sitting down for a mature conversation, ensuring there’s closure on both sides. It’d be tough for him, but he’d want to handle it respectfully.

F = Fiance(e) Commitment is a big deal to Ben. He wouldn’t rush into marriage but once he’s ready, he’d be all in. He’d propose in a heartfelt, personal way, after a long, meaningful relationship. He’d take his time, wanting the relationship to feel steady before taking the next step.

G = Gentle Ben is both physically and emotionally gentle. He’s mindful of your feelings, always checking in to make sure you’re okay. Physically, he’s careful with his strength, making his touches soft and considerate.

H = Hugs Ben is a hugger. He loves pulling you in for a quick squeeze or holding you in a long, warm embrace. His hugs are strong, comforting, and frequent. Whether he’s excited, happy, or simply wants to be close, he’s always ready for a hug.

I = I love you Ben wouldn’t rush to say “I love you,” but when he does, it’s sincere. He’d wait until he’s sure of his feelings and the strength of the relationship before saying it. When he does say it, you know he means it with every fiber of his being.

J = Jealousy Ben isn’t overly jealous, but he has his moments. If someone’s paying a little too much attention to you, he might get a bit protective, but he trusts you completely. He handles jealousy by talking about it openly and making sure you’re both on the same page.

K = Kisses Ben’s kisses are playful and tender. He loves kissing your forehead, nose, and, of course, your lips. His favorite is probably sneaking a quick kiss while you’re in the middle of talking, just to catch you off guard.

L = Little ones Ben is amazing around children. His playful, goofy side shines when he’s around kids, and they naturally gravitate toward him. He’s patient and gentle, making him a favorite among the little ones in his life.

M = Morning Mornings with Ben are filled with lazy smiles and sleepy conversations. He’s not a morning person by nature, but once he’s up, he’s full of energy and positivity. Expect breakfast together and lots of joking around to start the day.

N = Night Nights with Ben are calm and cozy. He likes to wind down with you, watching a movie or just talking about the day. He’s big on physical closeness, so you’ll probably find yourselves cuddled up on the couch or in bed.

O = Open Ben is open about himself fairly early in the relationship. He doesn’t see the point in hiding things, so he reveals his thoughts and feelings naturally over time. He’s open with his past, his ambitions, and his insecurities.

P = Patience Ben has a lot of patience, especially for the people he cares about. It takes a lot to make him angry, and even then, he prefers to talk things through rather than lash out.

Q = Quizzes Ben is surprisingly attentive. He remembers little details about you, from how you take your coffee to your favorite songs. He might not remember every single thing, but he’s got the big ones locked down.

R = Remember His favorite moment in your relationship is probably something simple but meaningful, like a late-night conversation where you both opened up completely. He treasures moments of vulnerability and connection.

S = Security Ben is protective, but not in a suffocating way. He looks out for you and always makes sure you’re safe, but he respects your independence. He appreciates when you stand by his side and show him support, too.

T = Try Ben puts effort into everything—dates, anniversaries, you name it. He loves making you smile, whether it’s through thoughtful gifts or spontaneous adventures. He’s always trying to keep the spark alive.

U = Ugly Ben’s worst habit is probably his occasional forgetfulness when he’s focused on tennis. He can get caught up in his routine and might forget little things, but he always makes up for it when he realizes.

V = Vanity Ben cares about his appearance, especially before a big match or event. He’s confident, but not overly vain. He likes looking his best, but he doesn’t obsess over it.

W = Whole Ben would feel incomplete without you, but he’s also secure in himself. He’s the type who sees a relationship as adding to his life rather than completing him, but your presence definitely makes his world better.

X = Xtra A random headcanon: Ben has a habit of singing (badly) in the shower, and it’s something you secretly find endearing, even if it’s a little off-key.

Y = Yuck Ben doesn’t like dishonesty. He values trust and open communication, and nothing bothers him more than being lied to, even about small things.

Z = Zzz Ben is a heavy sleeper. Once he’s out, he’s out. He loves to cuddle while sleeping, and it’s not uncommon for him to hold onto you throughout the night.

[themeraldee]

I was thinking about how what Homelander clearly considers part of Madelyn's betrayal, alongside the lying about him having a son, was her being afraid of him. And that fear being why she appeased him the way she did, *just like everyone else does*, when he'd hoped she was different. That she actually cared. But no, like everyone else who actually SEES him, she was scared of him. This made me think, what if he figured the only way a person could truly love him on a personal level would be if they'd had no exposure to who he is. Someone who doesn't know about the violence, who he can just be the charming hero in the sunlight for (I guess this would be pre his S3 revelation that certain people still like him even when he kills in broad daylight lol). Or so he hopes. He is desperate to please, after all. So then I thought, what if he somehow cultivated a relationship like this, away from Vought, and then this person was presented with the dark truth about him. Maybe from someone aligned with Butcher, maybe just accidentally, but for the first time he sees that familiar fear flickering in them too. This person who was supposed to be uncorrupted. Who was supposed to love him. Who he'd been so good for. I can see multiple endings to that scenario, some much darker than others. I guess a lot would depend on how this person reacted, if they could still accept him, how deep that fear goes. Anyway sorry for the very long ask! No pressure to do anything with this, I just wanted someone equally obsessed with this hot mess of a man to bounce it off of.

anon I AM OBSESSEDDDDDD. I feel a series brewing.... I honestly ADORE this idea. I love how heartbreaking it was to him that even though Madelyn has known him for so long and has been a part of like everything he's ever done she was still scared of him. How crushing must that feel that the person who's been by your side and at your beck and call for decades is afraid of you???

Him whisking you away to live this peaceful apple pie life with America's true hero you can't believe just happened to fall for you just to have the curtain pulled right in front of your eyes.

afagfhjdfadjlhf

I'm such a sucker for giving Homie all he wants and needs so like I totally want reader to go low-key darkside. Like. You realise noone will ever love you the way he does. Isn't a little grey morality worth this all-consuming eternal love you'd otherwise never feel again. Forever chasing this feeling the rest of your life.

After he finds out that someone spilled the beans to you he comes home crushed. You're nowhere to be seen. Again, another attempt at love ruined. Does he not deserve to have that? He undresses leaving his bloodied suit (after whatever carnage he came back from) in pieces on the floor frustrated, not bothering to clean up before you come home.

Except he wakes up to you being there in the morning cooking breakfast for him. You greet him with a, "good morning. I did my best to wash your suit. I didn't wanna ruin the fabric and throw it in the wash so I hope that's good enough. I really need you to find out for me how they usually wash it for you." You're being so nonchalant, talking about his bloody, viscera covered suit that you painstakingly scrubbed in the morning right as you're making some eggs and bacon for breakfast.

And he's kinda just staring at you shocked, waiting for you to meet his gaze. And when instead of fear he sees love and acceptance it's like his heart could burst from the relief.

ORRR it could go dark and sad - which I won't get into buutttt much to ponder.

[razorblade180-heated]

Okay so who in HSR can find the clit and who is horrible at bomb defusion?

I applaud you for the callback because it’s been ages since I’ve thought about that prompt.

I’m assuming we’re only talking about the men for obvious reasons. Except Acheron. I’m convinced she gets a little confused sometimes

Welt- Let’s be honest, that man knows every spot.

Gepard-Absolutely. He is the gold standard that never disappoints

Caelus-Knows from the get go. Kafka double checked that in the download.

Blade-Can only find Kafka’s

Ratio-Only if it’s in a book.

Aventurine- Could find it with his eyes closed

Boothill-Had a wife. I sure hope he found it.

Dan Heng- Gepard’s equal

Sampo- Knows out of convenience.

Luka- I love him, but no. He’s got spirit though. Fast learner.

Gallagher- Despite all odds, isn’t familiar with it.

Luocha- Could find it; has no interest to.

Jing Yuan:Knows exactly where it is. How else could he avoid it for the sake of being devious and making someone beg?

Argenti- Man, you can flip a coin lol. I don’t see why he wouldn’t know, but at the same time I would believe it’s the furthest thing from his mind.

Moze-Absolutely not. That’s not a weapon or a logical weak point in his line of work.

Jiaoqiu-Of course. Literal doctor and is dedicated to make sure Feixiao wants for nothing.

Sunday- Hot take? He’d struggle, but he isn’t unteachable.

Not this character has any personal experience, but I’m throwing Arlan a bone. He is on a scientific research station and in charge of lives. Anatomy is not beyond him.

Much like the rest of his character, one day, Yanqing will be a force to be reckoned with. I can’t imagine the student of Jing Yuan won’t know all his secrets one day; just not today.

[spiderqueenpc]

asking you about your fan obesk. tell me about your fan obesk

grins so wide

so, here are my kids! Zizakita Qou Kizan, Skolanevra Tir Senti, and Mivanscheki Vel Kortezut!

Ziza was a surface ("field") biologist on Obeski, largely focusing his studies on guktik due to having an immense fondness of and connection with them (in short- he's guktikhearted, he just doesn't have a word for it). [Recollection I wrote about that.] Despite being seen as kind of a weirdo, he was extroverted and enthusiastic, always looking for a chance to ramble about his work to anyone who would listen. He eventually went to Earth to study Earth fauna as part of the Communion division in the Embassy, which he was also very passionate about until he perished in the Collapse. (More details on that later ::::3c)

And as extroverts are prone to doing, he grabbed a couple of introverts and made them all the most important people in each other's lives(/deaths).

Skola was a gaurd who accompanied Ziza on the surface. She was the kind of bottled up and repressed where everything seems entirely normal and fine until one gaze, you realize she's never once said a single thing about herself. Ziza's brazen earnesty and openness were aspirational to her. She never quite got there, but she did open up little by little the longer she knew him. He was the first person outside her family she ever told of her identity as a "dragon" (inhereted context closest cultural equivalent etc. etc.) from Vaznian folklore. [Recollection I wrote about that.]

She followed him to Earth, though she was part of Exchange instead of Communion. Her focus was on stories- she shared fiction and folklore from Obeski with the cousins, and in turn she studied fiction and folklore from Earth. She died protecting Ziza in the Collapse, only for her husked corpse to later be the thing to do him in.

And finally, Ekiva's #1 most joyless vel. Accomplished parasitologist, highly respected name in their field, bearer of the naturalist's curse of knowledge, and the only one that's still on the stage because they didn't go to Earth- Mivanscheki. They've made more of a name for themself as a scientist than Ziza ever quite managed to, but their immense intellectual appreciation of the most reviled organisms on all of Obeski socially isolates them. At first, it was an isolation pushed upon them from the outside, but by the time Mivan became an adult, it was one intentionally sought. They are jaded, bitter, and see the general populace of Obeski as a bunch of irrational dumbasses (that they still ultimately want the best for, despite it all). They live in their lab and usually avoid talking to anyone outside their field if they can help it. Their respect is difficult to earn, but Ziza and Skola did indeed earn it. It was just a brief overlap in Ziza and Mivan's research that caused them to meet, but they ended up bonding over appreciating the creatures that no one else did.

Now Mivan is left to wish they had gone to Earth- not under any illusion that they could have stopped the tragedy, but just so they could have been there for Ziza and Skola during that nightmare.

Uhh wow that ended up really long lol anyway I hope you like them!!

[sweetladymoon]

I was so happy to read your explanation on Lando and Oscar, tysm!! 🥰✨🌸 can you explain to me what is going on with Logan Sargeant? I may have no idea who that is but i am very interested in The Tea, and i am always happy to defend someone who deseves it lol

Have a great day!! 🌸✨💙💙

Oh absolutely I can! This is gonna be a long one so grab a snack!🤭💗🫶

Logan Sargeant is a driver that a lot of people had really great expectations for. He excelled in the feeder series (F4,F3, F2, basically the series you drive in before you get into F1, even though driving in these series does not mean you are guaranteed a seat in F1). Logan was very close to winning the F3 championship and was also the first American to ever win a F2 race. Here’s a link to a Twitter thread about his junior racing career in case you’re interested in details:

He was driving for the Williams Academy at the time and in 2023 he got promoted to a F1 Seat with Williams. Many people question if he was taken out of F2 too soon and tbh I do think so. He could have used some more experience and maybe then we would have seen a different F1 career from him.

As a side note: Williams is not a top team. They used to be really good in the 80s and 90s and even won the Constructors Championship 9 times in total but had a bit of a fall off since then. The biggest issue for them is money. They don’t have the same kind of cash as the top teams which means they can’t develop their car at the same speed as other teams and also can’t upgrade it as regularly. They’re not fighting for wins or even podiums at the moment but mere points. Logan’s rookie season wasn’t great tbh. He made mistakes, he crashed and was also a bit unlucky throughout the season. At the end, he managed to score only 1 point which brought him to the bottom of the driver’s standings (with that 1 point he also became the first American driver to score points in F1 in 30 years though…so small wins I guess).

He got a lot of backlash from the fans and media and many wanted to see him gone from the sport. Williams however decided to keep him around for 2024. His fans hoped that this season would go better than the last and that he’d finally be able to prove his worth, but it was evident from very early on that Williams didn’t care that much about him and wouldn’t keep him around for 2025 no matter what he did. The team principal, James Vowles, played a big part in this. He kept badmouthing Logan to the media and, according to Logan, also did not give him feedback after races. Vowles would praise Logan’s teammate Alex Albon and then go on to talk about how if Logan wanted to keep his seat he would have to start performing in a similar matter which was unfair for many reasons. For one, Alex has been in F1 longer and has far more experience. Secondly, they weren’t even driving equal cars for most of the season. The 2024 season so far has been all that good. The car was pretty bad, but Logan’s in particular was nothing more than a glorified shopping cart. They couldn’t afford to update both cars, so they gave Alex the better car while Logan drove a car that was overweight and used spare parts from the previous season. However, JV never communicated this clearly when talking to the media, so a lot of people just believed that Logan was underperforming.

And tbh even when Logan was driving the inferior car he was not that far off from Alex’s times, so JV’s comments were also quite unnecessary. They started having equal cars from Silverstone (12th race of the season) on and Logan managed to finish P11 which is still outside of the points but was a huge improvement from previous races. But even that didn’t impress JV and that point everyone had kind of already accepted that he would be no longer on the grid the following year. Personally, I suspected as much since the race in Melbourne (3rd race). When Alex crashed his car during a practice session, Williams couldn’t repair the car because they didn’t bring a spare chassis. They knew they could only compete with one car and decided to give Logan’s car to Alex for the weekend, which was quite unfair of course seeing as Logan didn’t make a mistake and still had to suffer. It also showed that Williams and JV in particular had no faith in Logan’s abilities at all.

During the summer break it was announced that Logan would be replaced the following season, which didn’t surprise anyone but we thought we’d at least get to see him finish out the season…well we didn’t. He returned for a single race after the break. During a rainy practice session, he lost control of the car and had a really nasty crash. The car was a wreck and even caught fire. Logan was thankfully okay but had to start the race the following day from the back of the grid. He once again didn’t score points but I still think Zandvoort was one of his most impressive races still. Two days later, it was announced that he would be replaced for the rest of the season.

Many thought the crash and the cost that came with repairing the car afterwards were the reason for letting him go early but JV pretty much said that this wasn’t factored into the decision. They fired him because they thought they finally had managed to bring the car to a level for points to be a possibility and they didn’t believe that Logan had the ability to score any…which once again must’ve felt like a slap in the face for Logan.

They replaced him with Franco Colapinto who had until that point still driven in F2. Many questioned the decision of replacing an inexperienced driver with an even more inexperienced driver, especially because Williams’ aim was to fight for points. Alex expressed his sympathies when asked about the decision. He also made sure to point out that he thinks Logan is incredibly talented, has the pace, and will succeed in whatever he’s going to do next. (Here's also the lovely goodbye post he made) Oscar who was his teammate in F3 and drove against him in F2 also talked about how Logan could never show his true potential in F1 and how he is one of the quickest guys he ever drove against.

JV on the other hand talked about how he thinks Logan has reached his potential and basically said that he’s not good enough which is just a shit thing to do. You already fired him, what more do you want? JV has been acting highly unprofessional in many regards btw and so many comments he’s made (also about other drivers and situations) have been plain weird.

Franco has been doing really well. He even managed to score 4 point in his second F1 race in Baku, which was also the first race of the season in which both Williams cars scored points. Instead of just focusing on how good he’s doing for a rookie however, everyone keeps comparing him to Logan. Fans, media, even the commentators during the race keep bringing up Logan and how much worse he did compared to Franco without acknowledging that they never drove the same car. We’ll never know how Logan would have done in this version of the Williams, just like we’ll never know how Franco would have done in the earlier part of the season when the car was still shit. The comments are just unnecessary. You can compliment and praise a driver without dragging another driver’s name through the mud.

Logan has been pretty quiet since he got fired. There was a statement posted on his app but it got deleted soon after. We know he’s currently in the US with his girlfriend, friends and family which I’m relieved about. He looked really down in so many of his interviews. I can’t imagine the strain it must have taken on his mental health to not only have the media and fans against you but to also have your team (aka the people who are supposed to support you) talk about how disappointing your performance is. While I do miss him on the grid I’m almost glad he was able to leave this toxic environment behind.

He was spotted at the last IndyCar race of the season in Nashville that he was invited to by his best friend who drives for Andretti. There have been rumours all year if he might join IndyCar as well next season. Yesterday it was announced that he’ll do a test drive with Meyer Shank Racing in November. While they have no more available seats for next season, it will still be an opportunity for him to showcase his abilities and might open up some doors with other teams who are still looking for drivers to sign. A few haters have once again spouted bullshit and tried shit talking him but I’m just trying to be optimistic and hope that the whole IndyCar business will work out for him and that he’ll find a team who’s willing to support him the way he deserves.

I hope I didn’t bore you to death but that’s pretty much all there is to the whole Logan situation.😅 After all the unfair treatment and hate he’s been subjected to his fans have become even more protective of him. Also look at him. How could anyone be mean to this guy🤧:

[bicheetopuff]

I don't know if anyone has realized this yet but isn't afo kinda way too freaky about yoichi lol? like c'mon whats going on

Yeah I’ve seen people talk about their relationship like that before and how it’s kind of sketchy. Tbh though, I never really saw it like that.

I don’t think the people that see their relationship in that way understand that possessive abusers can come in any form. Any sort of relationship has the potential to become dangerously possessive whether it be a romantic one, parental one, or a brotherly one. I think since Yoichi is the only person All for One has ever had remotely care about him in a normal-ish way, he wanted to keep the only genuine connection he had for as long as he could, and if he couldn’t, then Yoichi lost his use to him.

I don’t think he cared about Yoichi himself at all as his brother, I think he cared more about what Yoichi was able to give him. It’s a “if I can’t have him, then no one can” kind of situation, but like I said above, that situation doesn’t always have to translate to romantic obsession, and I actually think it’s kind of harmful to see an obsession like AFOs as one that can only be explained away by potential romantic feelings.

I speak from experience, familial obsession can turn just as intense and dangerous as romantic obsession. They’re very real and I honestly find it disgusting that people try to turn it into a “AFO is gay for his brother” thing. Let me ask, would you think the same if Yoichi was AFOs son instead of brother?

Now, I don’t know if you meant your ask in that way, Anon, but I figured I’d talk about this anyway because I see a post about it every once in a while, and this just kind of made me want to add my two cents on it.

[alienthebee]

doodle jack earlier today (i need to draw him more)

also here is some jack x rayman because yeah