#it makes me feel really betrayed in a way

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (6) II a.putellas x sister!reader

prequel one two three four five filling the void (6) II a.putellas x sister!reader

"i love you alexia."

your sisters body tensed in your hold at that as you worried you'd said the wrong thing, letting go and taking a step back as the blonde looked at you in bewilderment.

"what?" alexia forced out, head spinning and certain she'd misheard you. "i love you alexia." you repeated, softer this time but now your sister knew what you said she launched at you, taking you a little off guard as she trapped you in a bone crushing hug.

"can't breathe." you mumbled into her shoulder, patting her back a couple times as she loosened her grip slightly but refused to let go. you knew she clearly needed this so you also made no move to back away, though suddenly you felt her own body vibrate slightly.

"...are you crying?" you asked with a slight frown, feeling her shake her head. "no." she sniffled, the crack in her voice betraying her words as you cracked the smallest of smiles, squeezing her just a fraction harder for it.

you weren't sure how long you stayed there for, admittedly the hug did make you feel better as much as you'd initiated it for your sister, but eventually her grip loosened and you let go, taking a step away and avoiding eye contact.

"hola fresa?" you glanced upward at her voice, her hands settling on your cheeks. "i love you too. you know that, sí?" she frowned down at you as you nodded, unable to deny the fact that no matter what was going on or how her actions made you feel, your sister did love you.

"lo siento i have not been very good at showing you hermanita, i will fix this. but...at your pace, when you are ready." the blonde promised softly, leaning in to press her lips against your forehead before letting go.

there was a brief pause of silence as you let her words sink in, appreciating the fact she'd stepped back to give you some space. but before you could say another word footsteps sounded behind you, cutting the moment short.

"ay dios mio why didn't either of you tell me you were here!? i have been running around the hospital looking for you for ten minutes!" alba huffed as she arrived, hands on hips and eyebrows furrowed into a scowl.

you watched as alexia only chuckled, moving to wrap your older sister in a hug which clearly caught her a little off guard. "i love you alba." alexia patted her on the back and you had to bite back a slight smile at the frown of confusion on the brunettes face.

"i love you too?" alba spoke slowly, patting alexias shoulder before she let her go. "ale...have you been crying?" alba squinted, leaning in a little closer as alexia's cheeks flushed red and she scoffed.

"no. vamos!" she cleared her throat, jingling her keys and striding away, both you and alba exchanging a brief look before hurrying after her.

~

"so...nurse huh?" you looked up from your plate with a slight frown, shrinking a little at the way both your sisters were eyeballing you across the table, alexia having lived up to her promise of sushi.

"maybe, i have to get in first. " you answered with a slight shrug. "how does that work? getting in." alba asked next, seeming genuinely interested as you put down your chopsticks.

"well i have to have enough credit points, which means i have to pass all of my subjects in the intro course i'm doing now." you explained, your sisters nodding along.

"you do that and work?" alba asked bluntly, wincing at the elbow alexia rammed into her side with a look, a very slight smile gracing your face at their behavior which hadn't changed over the years.

"sí. i get ten hours of training time a week where i sit in the office and do my course while on the clock, and everyone i work with is really helpful to ask for help if i need it. its self paced i just have to hand the assignments in by the end of each semester, and they have teachers you can email if you need assistance with understanding something." you continued to explain.

"thats very impressive fresa, we're really proud of you." alexia smiled softly and you bowed your head. "very proud hermanita." alba confirmed, your cheeks reddening a little from the compliment as you shoved a piece of sushi in your mouth with a small nod.

you managed to get through the rest of lunch unscathed, your sisters asking questions but not in the same rapid fire manner as the first time, also taking time to speak about their own lives as conversation flowed much less awkwardly the more time passed.

"bye fres." you looked up from your phone which your head had been buried in, catching up on the days worth of messages you'd missed from friends, meeting alba's smile from the front seat.

you hadn't even clocked alexia pull up in your sisters driveway, alba hovering with her hand on the door handle as she and alexia murmered something to one another, exchanging a tight hug.

"wait, alba?" you spoke up as she half opened the door, the older girl raising an eyebrow curiously as you paused. "do you want to get breakfast on sunday? before ale's game." you asked, forcing your words out as alba opened and closed her mouth in shock.

"she would love to. sí alba?" alexia smiled softly, alba only able to nod her head enthusiastically, hesitating like she wanted to say more but clearly not wanting to push her luck she settled for a beaming grin and another goodbye, hurrying out of the car.

"are you going to move to the front or make me drive you around like an uber?" your eyes only darted back down to your phone for a moment before alexia spoke, amusement in her tone as you caught her eye.

unbuckling you moved to the front, clipping back in as she backed out of the driveway, alba waving you off before her front door closed and barcelona was passing by in a blur.

you recognised where alexia was taking you, knowing the way all too well as she turned the final left and you made your move. "ale?" you asked, music having been filling the pointed silence between the two of you until then as your sister hummed, eyes on the road.

"can i stay at your place tonight?" you asked quietly, fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie and staring out of the window, though you could feel her surprised gaze flicker to you momentarily.

your mamis words rang through your mind as you spoke, knowing olga was away for tonight and that your sister deserved someone there to look after her for once, having always deemed herself the protector.

"por supuesto fresa, you are always welcome." you both knew there was more meaning to those last few words than either of you were willing to discuss right now, but still you felt the sincere meaning behind the all the same.

"did you want to stop at mamis to grab anything? we will go past anyway." alexia quickly changed topics as you nodded, a few more streets sped down before alexia was pulling up in the driveway.

you half expected her to stay in the car, but you glanced over your shoulder to see her locking it up and following after you. you unlocked the front door with your keys and left it open for alexia to follow, heading for your room as she did the same.

you grabbed a change of clothes and shoved them into a bag alongside a text book and your laptop, your eyes lingering on the small bear on your bed, quickly packing him in as well but tucking him well under so there wasn't a chance anyone would see.

grabbing a few other little things and changing your shoes you poked your head out and frowned unable to see your sister, calling out her name as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder and wandered room to room.

a particularly sharp pang sounded in your chest as you stepped a singular foot into eli's room, not having been in here since everything happened. you exhaled shakily and placed your bag down, her bed half made and clothes on the floor from where she'd changed after her shower before everything happened.

with a small frown you hurried over and made her bed, tucking the corners in tight and chopping at the copious amount of throw pillows the woman insisted on having so they all sat just right.

you then moved her clothes to the laundry hamper in her room, making a mental note to do a load next time you were back and moving her slippers to sit in there correct position by the door.

"i do not understand how she fits in the bed with all cushions." alexia chuckled from the doorway, having come back inside after loading a few things into her car from her old room.

"olga is the same. why do you need them? you only need two pillows. the ones that you sleep on!" alexia rolled her eyes making you crack a smile, your sister stepping back as you exited the room, closing eli's door behind you as if wanting to preserve its privacy.

"hey nena." you looked up at that, alexia giving you a small frown of concern. "she is going to be fine. you know that, sí?" alexia questioned as you nodded. "i know."

there wasn't anymore words exchanged between the two of you as you locked up and returned to her car, alexia flicking on music again to occupy the ride home, a glance to her left and you were clearly zoned out in another world.

you were indeed caught up in your thoughts, only locking back into reality as alexia gently tapped your shoulder, parked in her complex as you both made your way out of the car.

~

"can i ask you something hermana?" you felt your body tense up a little, having known this would be coming eventually but the last few hours watching a mindless reality show on the sofa while alexia studied for her match had kept it from happening.

"the hospital, sí?" you wiggled a little to get comfortable as your sister joined you on the sofa with a nod. "what i can't tell you i love you and give you a hug?" you joked lamely, rewarded with a polite smile but you could see the curiosity burning in her eyes.

"vale. well i was talking to mami, about...everything." you paused, alexia nodding knowing what you meant. "she was telling me about her regrets in life, and that the biggest one is how much responsibility she put on you as a teenager." you continued quietly, alexias eyebrows knitting into a frown.

"about how she and papi needed to work nights so they would leave you home and in charge, running the house, cooking and looking after me and alba. then after papi passed away you took on everyones grief, you made it your job to protect everyone and push aside your own feelings to do so." you glanced up but were unable to catch her eye, your sister looking off over your shoulder but still very much listening.

"alexia you were there for everyone, but no one was there for you." you nearly whispered, her eyes now darting to meet yours which softened.

"and-and well it made me think a lot about how much you were there for me, and how much you did for me and looked after me and gave up for me. it was you who took me to school and picked me up everyday, you who would stay up for hours helping me with projects and essays and family trees. you who would let me sneak into bed with you, you who taught me how to ride a bike and bandaged up my knees and sang those ridiculous songs when i was sad because you knew it would make me laugh." you continued, having to tear your gaze away as your sisters remained trained on you.

"you who held me when i cried and explained to me over and over why we couldn't go visit papi in heaven. you never missed a single awards ceremony, tennis match, school concert, cross country, graduation." you listed off, caught up in your own thoughts and missing the emotional turmoil evident on your sisters face as you spoke.

"it was you who taught me to stand up for myself, you who always showed me what real work ethic was and how when you're passionate about something you don't give up on it. you were, are...the best possible role model for young girls and i've always known that and taken it for granted, taken you for granted." you sighed shakily, not even knowing what was coming next as you word vomited what had been playing on your mind for hours.

"ale...you might not be mami. but to me you were like one growing up, and you shouldn't have needed to be. you did so much more than a sister would or should, and i should have-" you stopped as she cut you off, making a noise and shaking her head.

"don't fresa." you looked at her with confusion, the girl hurrying to wipe a stray tear which lingered in the corner of her eye. "don't apologise. por favor pequeña, you are not the one who needs to be sorry for anything." alexia promised, scooting a little closer as you continued to frown with confusion.

"but-" "no, just give me a second." alexia asked softly as you nodded, closing your mouth and fidgeting with your rings, twisting them around your fingers.

"fresita, i did all of that because i love you hermana. i love you and i wanted to protect you, i wanted to be there for you, i wanted to look after you. there was maybe some parts of me which wished certain things could have been different but i would never ever blame you, or mami, or alba, or papi, nobody." she promised firmly.

"i am the one who needs to be sorry pequeña. mami might be right and maybe a lot of my teenage years were not me being a teenager, but that does not mean i resent them, or her, or you." alexia continued softly, reaching out to take your hands.

"with how i looked after you and alba as a teenager, fresa i never wanted you to feel responsible for anyone else like that. i wanted you to enjoy your life, see your friends, go out and be a teenager and be normal, and not feel smothered by me." alexia explained with a sigh.

"but hermana i think in doing that, in giving you that space and...and not checking in anymore, being blind and thinking i knew best and not noticing that taking a step back wasn't what you wanted. it meant you had to grow up even faster to try and catch up with alba and i." alexia admitted, letting go of your hands and rubbing her face with hers with a deep exhale.

"but i am so proud of you and the woman you are growing up to be fresa, so so proud. and i am so sorry for not being there when you needed me nena, that is my biggest regret and i am trying not to push you but i just want to fix this, to fix you and make all of the pain go away." alexia shook her head and held up a hand as you opened your mouth to speak.

"but you are right chiqui you are not a little kid anymore, you do not need me to fix things for you or decide what you need, and i am so sorry it took me this long to see that fresa." your sisters hands fell either side of your face with a pained smile.

"but i still need you alexia, and alba. i don't want you to take a step back, i want to see you and hang out with you and for things to be normal again. i don't want it to hurt anymore!" you managed out, overwhelmed with the emotions flooding your body at the admission.

"oh mi fresa, ven aquí." alexia murmured, pulling you into a tight hug which you reciprocated, squeezing her as the two of you sat there in silence, alexias hand cradling the back of your head just like when your little, your hands fisting at the back of her shirt.

"i have something i want to show you pequeña, vale?" alexia spoke softly, letting go of you as you nodded, clearing your throat and taking a moment to collect yourself as she disappeared into her bedroom.

"your...boots?" you questioned with a frown as your sister returned with a large faded nike box, settling it down on the coffee table which she dragged a little closer and took her seat beside you.

"no idiota, not my boots." alexia chuckled, carefully taking the lid off as you craned your neck to see inside. "this is my fresa box." alexia stated, pushing it a little closer to you as you frowned and began to rifle through its contents.

"wait. your fresa box?" you paused, looking up at her as she sighed and nodded. "sí hermanita. over the years i have kept things from you, and they are all in here so i do not lose them." alexia admitted, ears going slightly red as you bit back the teasing comment sitting on your tongue.

"this is..." you pulled something out with wide eyes as alexia smiled, taking it from you. "the little rose you made me in kindergarten, for sant jordi." alexia confirmed as you continued to pull things out in disbelief.

"this is my cross country ribbons, my attendance awards, my winning debate speech from high school, my hero essay, all the pictures i drew you...you kept these?" your shoulders sagged a little in shock as your sister nodded.

"sí, but i had to steal some of these from mami so don't tell her." the blonde warned as you nodded, resuming your rummaging as alexia did the same, fondly looking over things you pulled out as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

"oh, i thought i lost this." you exhaled, pulling something out of the bottom of the box, the cold metal sitting in your hand as you locked eyes onto it. "i forgot i had that, you gave it to me-" alexia started with a soft smile.

"-before your first game for the senior team." you finished, remembering the very day you'd given the tiny matchbox car to your sister. "you should take it pequeña, it was always your favourite." alexia pushed.

"i don't need it, you keep it." you shook your head, placing it carefully back in the box. "you do not want it?" alexia frowned, a little confused as you hesitated for a moment, turning to face her better.

"i am going to show you something, and you're not going to get mad ale. vale?" you started as your sister nodded slowly. with a sigh you stood up, lifting up your hoodie and t-shirt and tugging down the waistband of your shorts slightly.

"is that-" alexia's eyes widened as you nodded. "sí, its real." you confirmed before recounting the story before your sister could even ask.

you thanked your uber and stepped outside, hurrying across the road to mapi's place while there were no cars, shooting the girl a text you'd arrived and making your way toward the front door.

you didn't even need to knock, barely making it up the stairs before the door swung open and the tattooed defender was giving you a wild grin. "hola mi diablillo!" she greeted, opening her arms for a hug as you rolled your eyes but gave in none the less.

"i'm never growing out of that am i?" you sighed knowingly as the girl laughed, patted your back and invited you in, explaining ingrid was out shopping which you'd assumed she not be home given this was even happening.

though she'd joked about doing it for years it had taken you months of wearing mapi down before she'd come close to agreeing to tattooing you, especially given it was behind alexia's back and before you turned 18.

despite the two being best friends and incredibly close mapi knew that would mean nothing if alexia ever found out this was happening, you came first to alexia and mapi often teased the older girl that she acted as if she had given birth to you herself.

but admittedly you knew exactly how to get what you wanted and whipping out the dead papi card and giving mapi the full sob story on why this tattoo meant so much to you, that you just wanted a way to connect with him and remember him, had worked a charm.

it was all true of course, the meaning and the sentiment behind the tattoo you'd been bugging her for months to put on you, but once you really laid it on thick the zaragozan couldn't help but give in and finally agree.

though it came with a strict promise that it stayed between the two of you and nobody, especially alexia, was to find out anytime soon.

but it seemed despite ingrids absence that you and mapi weren't entirely alone, mapi measuring out where you wanted the tattoo and how big when a girl who looked around your age started to make her way downstairs, head buried in her phone.

"oh, solstråle!" her head snapped up at that and you frowned, she looked both familiar and unfamiliar now you had a chance to properly look, her watercolour eyes taking you in with a somewhat fearful expression as she halted.

"this is ingrids hermana, solstråle." mapi introduced as you gave the taller girl a smile which wasn't returned as she looked at you like a deer in headlights. "solstråle, this is alexia's sister fresa." mapi introduced again, sighing quietly at the silence.

"you can say hi sol she does not bite! actually you-" but the defenders words fell short as with a mumbled greeting the norweigan hurried back the way she came, door heard swinging shut with a small bang as mapi sighed again.

"she means well she can just be...a little skittish around new people. she only moved here a little while ago from norway, its been an adjustment." mapi winced, rubbing the back of her neck as you hummed.

"well i do not blame her. it cannot be easy living with you and your big mouth which runs twenty four seven maría!" you teased with a grin as the girl clicked her tongue at you and smacked the back of your head.

"do you want a tattoo or a beat down diablillo?" mapi warned as you followed after her toward the living room where she had everything set up.

"you do know fres, getting it here is going to hurt sí?" mapi winced at the placement which was just above your hip and below your rib cage, not somewhere she'd recommend anyone for a first tattoo but she knew first hand there were a million things easier than winning an argument with a putellas woman.

"i know. but it is the easiest place to hide and i have a high pain tolerance, está bien!" you rolled your eyes dismissively as mapi held up two gloved hands, again not prepared to argue with you and well aware she only had a small bubble of time to get this done in before ingrid got home and blew her cover.

"if your sister finds out-" mapi started, preparing her gun as you settled yourself on the makeshift bench she'd created from the backyard coffee table.

"she won't, she barely knows i exist anyway." you mumbled, resting your chin on your arm as mapi frowned, poking your cheek as a small smile formed and you pushed her finger away. "you still have not spoken directly to her then?" the girl questioned as you shook your head.

"no point, they do not care." you quipped bluntly with a small shrug. "pequeña you know i could-" mapi started as you turned your head to face her, giving her the same look she'd seen anytime she'd offered to help you mend the void which was rapidly growing between you and your sisters.

"vale vale, i will keep my nose out of it. but your hermana's love you fresa, i have seen it first hand." mapi promised as you heard the buzz of the gun as she flicked it on and dipped the tip of the needle into the ink.

"yeah like when alexia almost gave you a black eye for teaching me how to ride your dirtbike." you grinned at the memory as mapi instead winced, having truly learned her lesson that time.

"you were on it with me for like five minutes! she overreacted." the defender scoffed, telling you to prepare yourself as a more serious air settled and the needle first made contact with your skin.

"oye maldito mierda hijo de puta!" "oye watch your mouth, i warned you this would hurt!"

"so...maría did this?" alexia asked carefully, a small flinch happening as she gently traced her finger along the design, face unreadable. "sí but please do not be upset with her ale, i really pushed and pushed until she said yes." you assured, biting your bottom lip nervously.

"it is beautiful, almost an exact match pequeña." alexia finally smiled, grabbing the matchbox car and holding it up beside the one which lay on your skin in ink.

"almost, there are a few small changes." you shuffled a little closer so she could see. "the number plate, aafej07." you started, pointing it out as your sister nodded.

"alexia, alba, fresa, eli, juame and 07 for the year i was born." you explained, alexias face once again unreadable. "then the number on the side of the car, that one has 17-" you pointed to the small matchbox car sitting on the coffee table.

"-but this one is 11." your sister exhaled in realization as you nodded. "even if i was really mad at you when i got it and we weren't really talking and i was hurt, familia is still familia and-" you didn't even have a chance to finish your sentence before strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off your feet.

"por favor alexia we just had a nice moment and you are already making it weird hermana!" you groaned as your sister squeezed you so tight you nearly wheezed.

"...ale, are you crying again?" you sighed, the silence in return all you needed as you shook your head and properly hugged your sister back, knowing as much as she needed this, so did you.

"te quiero mucho mi fresa, tanto tanto tanto hermana."

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

thought after mourning the loss of a chaotic wsl season today we could all use something a little softer than my usual gut punch angst of FTV

[moonstruckme]

Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)

Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3

cw: concussion

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow. 

He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following hushed voices into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 

The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration. 

Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time. 

“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.” 

Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.

“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.” 

Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.” 

“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings. 

Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again. 

Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus had each taken a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking. 

He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion. 

The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him. 

“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?” 

“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.” 

“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him. 

He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively. 

“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs. 

You hum. “Why?” 

“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.” 

“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?” 

You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look. 

“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks. 

You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.” 

Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.” 

“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?” 

“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later. 

Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself. 

“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.” 

Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it. 

You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.” 

“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.” 

You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?” 

“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.” 

[aeliuss]

Featuring: pussydrunk!chan x afab reader

Genre: smut with the tinniest of plots lol

Warnings: chris is reader's fiance, cunnilingus, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) and over all smut smutty smut.....yeah. minors do NOT interact

Notes: what i do for you guys (and myself). feedback is always appreciated! or you can hit me up and we can squeal together lol

chan is horny. like, unbelievably so.

which, in itself is incredibly inappropriate since he's currently at the work function you invited him to, in trousers that he cannot afford to have a hard-on in, but it's not his fault. how could he not be, when you're walking around the ballroom in your pretty little slip dress, hair brushed to the side, as you interacted with your coworkers. you're so graceful, so professional, so put together, so--

delectable.

he clears his throat, adjusting his pants and sitting up, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back on one of your coworkers, who has been speaking to him for the past five minutes about the company's goals. he could not give less of a shit to be honest, but he's here for you, so he makes the effort, smiling and nodding when appropriate, the picture of a loving, supportive fiance.

that is, until he has your dress bunched up to your hips as gets to his knees in front of you.

he doesn't know how you two got here, just that he met your eyes over the shoulder of you blabbering coworker and suddenly, he was excusing himself, and through a flurry of movement, and mumbled apologies, you two were suddenly in the only place you could get a sliver of privacy--a bathroom stall.

"chris, my dress--" you whine when he shoves it upwards unceremoniously, forcing you to curl your fingers around the hem. "it's gonna get wrinkled and I have to give a speech later."

his deft fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you. "sweetheart....you know I love you, but I don't give a shit about your dress."

"we can't do this here," you protest, trying to regain some sense of composure, but your words come out in breathy whispers as his fingers trail teasingly along the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your protests.

he chuckles, keeping his eyes on yours as he litters kisses on your inner thighs. "can't we?"

your scent enveloped him, intoxicating and sweet, as his fingers deftly peeled away your panties, his gaze never leaving yours. your already wet, and normally, any other time, chan would comment on how needy you were for him, how you were already sopping and he hasn't even touched you--but today? today he was the needy one, practically drooling at the sight of you.

"so pretty, baby," it comes out in a desperate sigh. "so so pretty."

before you can respond, he is flattening his tongue across your entire vulva, dragging it up slowly. his fingers tighten around your thighs when you jump, steadying you, but also keeping you in place for him.

he can't help the groan he makes at the taste of you as he sucks on your labia, lapping up at the juices you're already releasing. "fucking made for me," his words send vibrations into your pussy in a way that makes your knees weak.

your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds. the last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but the way chan is devouring you makes it nearly impossible. his tongue works with an expertise that drives you wild, alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick flicks that have you teetering on the edge.

"chris," you whisper, your voice trembling. "we really... we shouldn't—"

in answer, he maneuvers one of your legs so that it's resting on his shoulder so that he can press his face further against your pussy, inhaling deeply. the world outside the stall fades away, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses becoming a distant hum as his tongue delves deeper. his fervor is almost worshipful, the way he licks and sucks at your clit with a fervent devotion, the tip of his nose brushing teasingly against your clit with every movement.

"please," you moan, your voice breaking. it's not clear what you're pleading for—more, less, for him to stop before someone finds you, or for him to never stop.

he responds with a growl, the sound vibrating through you as he doubles his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and intense suction, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling. he knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of release.

he's there when the coil in your lower belly finally snaps, tongue eagerly waiting to lap up everything you give him--and lap up he does. he is so lost in your taste, that you have to physically push him away, thighs already shaking because of the way he is overstimulating you.

he lets you push his head back by his hair, leaning his neck back to give you a perfect view of the glistening of your juices on his lips and the tip of his nose.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, a mix of nerves and disbelief at the situation you've found yourselves in. " we really need to get back to the party," you whisper, trying to regain some sense of rationality, even as your body still hums with the aftermath of his expert ministrations.

"right." he stands, helping you smooth down your dress and you up at him nervously.

"does it look okay?"

he gives you a once over, lips trembling in his effort to stop them from curling. your cheeks are flushed, dress wrinkled and he could see the fabric quiver slightly.

you groan.

"it looks awful doesn't it?"

"nah," he plants a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. "looks amazing. now how 'bout that speech, yeah?"

[suashii]

— 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓇 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ a lil bit of flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin' ) ﾉ interactions with kids ﾉ reader is navigating Big and Confusing feelings :3

a continuation of this farmhand!boothill fic! this might become a miniseries so if u're interested, do let me know!

“one more stop and we should be good to go,” boothill informs you, closing the door behind him after joining you in the front of the truck. his presence makes the vehicle feel twice as hot and you find yourself scooting closer to the window to widen the gap between the two of you. the task proves to be a bit difficult in the two-seat cab.

maybe you can chalk it up to the fact that you’ve gotten used to the convenience of grocery delivery services, but you’re really starting to feel like boothill is going out of his way to make this the longest, most convoluted shopping trip simply because you’re here with him. if you knew you’d be spending such a large chunk of your day with the farmhand, you wouldn’t have so easily agreed to accompany him on the errands.

it was another request, or suggestion, rather, from your grandpa. you’ve been cooped up in the house since you arrived for your getaway and the man thought it might be a good idea for you to go into town, reacquaint yourself with the locals. you couldn’t argue—your trip is currently indefinite and you’re sure you’ll end up driving yourself crazy if you refuse to go out and are only left with the company of boothill.

he may still be in your presence now, but having others around to buffer your interactions has made all the difference. the farmhand is a lot more tolerable when it’s not just the two of you—less teasing, easier to talk to. you’d even go as far as calling him… charming. though, you’ll take that with you to the grave.

and, being trapped in a car with him is a different story. you silently hope that your next destination is in the same direction as home because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take being confined in such a cramped space with him. other than his unrelenting pestering, you’re angry at yourself for stealing glances at him—the way he steers with one hand and lets the other hang out the window and how the toothpick he’s chewing looks all too natural between his lips.

you focus your eyes ahead, scolding yourself for so shamelessly enjoying the sight of him. you should be glad he doesn’t catch you looking; you’d never hear the end of it. without turning to face him, you ask, “what’s the last stop?”

“produce stand,” he speaks around the wooden stick in his mouth, slowing to a stop at the red.

you frown, confused. “we were just at the market, why didn’t we just pick some up there?”

“and betray miss alma?” the name rings a bell, you recognize it from when you would spend summers with your grandpa. he must still do business with her if boothill is familiar, and loyal, at that. “absolutely not. better quality here, anyway.”

you don’t argue because you have a feeling that he’s right. and you wouldn’t mind catching up with alma. she was always so nice when you were a kid, excitedly asking you about your time here and offering you free carrots to feed the horses back home. you’re surprised to hear she’s still running the stall after all these years.

it only takes a few more minutes to make it to the roadside stand. there are a couple of cars already parked when boothill pulls off and you can see the owners of them picking out their desired fruits and vegetables. you don’t waste any time getting out of the truck when boothill turns it off, the gravel of the makeshift parking lot crunching beneath your boots as you make your way over to the little table that houses the register.

alma is seated behind it, head lifting up from the book in her hand at the sound of car doors closing. she readies to greet another customer but her eyes light up in pleasant delight when they land on you. “look who it is!”

her voice, though slightly changed by age, is familiar and brings an immediate smile to your face. you all but run to meet her at the table she comes to stand behind. the woman holds her arms out for a hug and you reach over the table to wrap your arms around her. it’s comforting in the same way hugging your grandpa is, like nothing can go wrong while you’re safe in their hold.

“your grandpa told me you were in town,” she tells you, pulling away and slowly taking a seat in her chair. “i was wondering if you’d stop by.”

you don’t want to tell her that you’re mostly here because of boothill. “how have you been, miss alma?”

“good, good.” she beams and gestures toward the multiple cartons and crates of colorful produce. “we’re still going strong.”

you smile at that. you don’t find many places like this in the city and the small businesses that you do come upon back home don’t foster this type of community. it’s nice to see that her livelihood is still thriving. alma gazes at her work proudly before her eyes zone in on something—or someone—else. “you here with boothill?”

“oh, yeah. he works at the farm,” you tell her, though, you’re sure she already knew as much. she’s seen much more of him in the past few years than she has of you. not that you didn’t believe him, but he really is a regular.

“nice young man, isn’t he?” alma asks, looking back at you. you’re not sure if you’d go that far but you nod in agreement regardless. he’s likely the perfect gentleman to the older ladies within town. she continues, “hardworking and handsome, too.”

“yeah,” you mindlessly admit. the hardworking part is undeniable, you’ve seen that much yourself. he’s always up on time and takes his responsibilities seriously, never half-asses his tasks and is consistently willing to take on more work if it’s necessary. you only concede on the handsome bit because boothill isn’t around to hear you say so. you hope alma isn’t a gossip.

“are you seeing him, dear?” she inquires.

“seeing him? like dating?” you ask for clarification. alma only raises her eyebrows. she does mean it like that. the question makes the tips of your ears grow hot, makes your heart feel like it’s beating against your ribcage infinitely faster. you quickly wave your hands in dismissal, smiling nervously at the woman’s assumption. “oh, no. no, no.”

alma laughs at your denial but something hidden in the sound makes it seem as though she can see right through you. she doesn’t push the matter and while you’re grateful to leave the discussion at that, you can’t help but wonder what gave her that impression, if it’s simply an old lady’s wishful thinking or if you aren’t as good at suppressing those confusing feelings as you thought you were.

“boothill!” the call of his name gives you a start. you almost think alma is calling him over but when you reassess the voice—how little and high-pitched it is—you calm down. your eyes search the small crowd for the man and you find him quickly, though he isn’t alone. there’s a little girl at his feet, one who’s hugging his legs tightly and looking up at him with stars in her eyes. 

you don’t have time to wonder about who she is before alma explains. “that’s my granddaughter. sweet little thing. you should go meet her, she’ll love you.”

“sure.” you offer the woman a short wave before making your way over to boothill and the girl. you can pick up on tidbits of their conversation as you approach—boothill asking how much she’s missed him and the girl telling him “this much!” while opening her arms as wide as she can. he laughs and takes the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, situating her on his hip. he even takes the hat off his head to place it on hers. it’s big on her, covers her eyes and requires her to push it back so she can see.

the whole exchange is cute, not something you’d expect from boothill. there’s a lot that you don’t know about him, you think as you watch.

the girl must feel you looking because her head turns in your direction which causes boothill’s to follow. you smile at her and wave and when you’re finally close enough, you greet her. “hi there.”

“hello.” she isn’t as excited as she was when she realized boothill was here but she’s still kind, returning your wave with one of her own. your conversation ends before it truly begins as she turns back to boothill. there’s curiosity swimming in her eyes and she doesn’t attempt to lower her voice when she asks him, “is she your girlfriend?”

your mouth falls open in surprise at the girl’s bold question. boothill laughs heartily, whether at your reaction or the question itself, you’re not sure. you don’t know if you trust him enough to answer honestly but before you can tell her no, the man is already speaking. “nah.”

relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. he meets your eye with his next words. “she’s real pretty though, ain’t she?”

he’s doing it again, putting you in a tough spot, one that urges you to run away rather than face the situation head-on. but this time, he knows that you know running away here would only cause a scene. you aren’t jumping at the chance to embarrass yourself in public so, even though you’re tempted to put as much space between you and boothill as possible, you plant your feet to the ground and stay put.

the girl in his arms looks at you again before eagerly nodding. “very pretty!”

“thank you, sweetheart,” you tell her with a soft smile. you try to keep it in place when you turn to address boothill. “are we ready to go?”

“almost,” he answers, crouching down to return the girl to the ground. the girl doesn’t look thrilled at their time being cut short but boothill, still at her level, playfully pinches her nose in hopes of cheering her up. “look, i gotta finish shopping but we can talk some more another day. maybe ask your mom if you can come ride the horses soon.”

“okay!” she places the hat back on his head, gives him a goodbye hug, and waves once more at you before skipping over to her grandma—presumably to share her enthusiasm at the prospect of visiting the farm.

she reminds you of yourself around that age.

“so,” boothill starts, rising to his full height with a half-full wicker basket in hand, “you only capable of accepting compliments when they’re not from me?”

there’s a grin stretched across his lips like he’s waiting for a thank you of his own. perhaps it’s a little rude, a bit pretentious even, but you can’t find it in you to utter the two simple words. maybe it’s strange and maybe it only makes sense to you, but not acknowledging the words is almost as if they never traveled through the air in the first place. pretending like the words don’t exist is easier on you—your turbulent mind and your unsteady heart.

you change the subject. “what else do we need?”

“you are ice cold, darlin’.” despite the statement, boothill doesn’t seem to be bothered by your indifference. he wouldn’t take it to heart if you were truly uninterested but the man is more perceptive than you give him credit for. he doesn’t miss how you can never seem to meet his eye following his heartfelt words, how you chew on your lip while you formulate an unrelated reply, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten about that stunt you pulled in the barn.

there’s something going on in that pretty head of yours and he’s determined to find out just what it is.

you pick out a few peaches and plums for yourself and a bunch of carrots for the horses while boothill grabs the rest of the household necessities. the basket is full by the time the two of you are finished. you plan on paying for your share but boothill insists that you wait in the truck, so, after bidding goodbye to alma and her granddaughter, you make the short walk back to the car. 

a couple of minutes pass before you hear the man putting the produce away with the rest of the items in the bed of the truck. a second later his door opens and he joins you, though, he isn’t empty-handed. there’s a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he holds out to you. “for you.”

you eye them cautiously, not daring to reach out and accept them.

“don’t worry, they’re from miss alma,” he tells you, lightly shaking the colored cosmos in front of you in a gesture for you to take them. “put ‘em in your room or something, they’ll look nice.”

with his urging, you take the bouquet. pinks and purples with pops of white make up the arrangement and, much to your chagrin, boothill is right—you can think of the perfect spot in your window for the blossoms.

as he starts the car and begins to back out into the road, boothill steals a quick look at you. there’s a smile pulling at your lips, soft and natural. it’s a rare sight, but one he could get used to.

he supposes that if he wants to see it for a while longer, he shouldn’t tell you that they aren’t actually from miss alma, rather, a mere suggestion from the nice lady to get him in your good graces.

thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[6esiree]

A Tender Moment With Lucifer

Insecurity continued to torment Lucifer even after you came into his life, a consequence of his divorce with Lilith. He hoped that the feeling would go away with time, but it continued to chip away at his self-worth, threatening to seep into your relationship and poison the foundation the two of you had built on love and trust. So what did Lucifer do? Nothing—except cling onto you at every opportunity, especially when you were planning to head out.

“Don’t go,” Lucifer whined into your back, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You closed your eyes and sighed, a smile growing on your face as you felt a gust of wind hit your back. “Luci,” You playfully warned him, but he ignored you, unraveling his wings and wrapping them around you so you wouldn’t leave with your friends, who you were on your way to meet up with at some restaurant.

“I just…really need you right now, alright?” Lucifer admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please stay.”

That is how you found yourself on top of Lucifer, his hands squeezing your waist as you placed kiss after kiss on his lips. How many did you give him? One, two, three, four—you lost count a long time ago, your mind clouded with desire the moment he twitched in anticipation underneath you. But when Lucifer uttered ‘I want to feel you,’ you decided to stay, your phone vibrating with every missed call and unread message as you showed him how much you loved him.

Halfway into the act, you figured out why Lucifer was being so clingy, his voice betraying him when you moved your hips against his a certain way. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” He tossed his head back with a groan. “Don’t ever leave me—mmfh—couldn’t imagine eternity without you.” Your hips came at a standstill, making Lucifer whine in disappointment.

“I’m not going to—what?” You stuttered, realization dawning on his face as you blinked, obviously concerned. “Luci, baby, is that why you wanted me to stay?”

Lucifer instantly shook his head, tripping over his words as he tried to find a way out, so you grabbed his cheeks and made him look at you. “Only way I’d leave is if you told me to, y’know,” You said, proceeding to litter his face with kisses, making him laugh. “Besides that, you’re stuck with me forever!” It would take a lot more than that to help Lucifer feel more secure with your relationship, you knew that, but the way he stared back at you with a big goofy, lopsided grin made it all worth it to you.

[satorisoup]

YOUR NUMBER, TO GO .ᐟ

ft. kento nanami

cw : fluff. bakery owner! reader. nanami being absolutely smitten with you.

wc : 897

nanami absolutely despised work environments. he didn’t like the exhausting feeling of sitting in an office, day to day, with nothing but papers and an annoying ring of the telephone to keep him company. he didn’t enjoy the daily routine of work, eat, work again, sleep, repeat. it was getting far too repetitive, and quite frankly, boring. how could he enjoy anything when work was always in the way?

that was until he spotted the cute little bakery on the corner during his lunch one day, practically calling his name to come inside.

as fate would have it, he entered through the dainty doors out of pure curiosity, and with the “—ding!” of a bell, he was greeted with the brightest, cheery smile he thinks he’s ever come across. the excited “ welcome! ” and delicious pastries reeled him in like a fish on a hook, met with a sweet girl dressed in an apron behind the counter. nanami believes he may have just found a gold mine.

he browsed the desserts from behind the glass case, unsure of what to decide on. the strawberry scones? maybe tiramisu? wait, there’s chocolate chip cookies too? he was stuck in his thoughts, options seemingly endless.

and you, an angel sent down to earth, began to speak again, tone sweet like honey, “ first time here? i can recommend you a few things if you’d like, sir. ”

nanami left with an entire box of pastries that day, and he didn’t have one single regret.

the next day, the same situation followed. and the day after, and again after that. his own legs began to betray him, automatically leading him straight down the path to your beloved bakery every time the clock hit 11:15. soon enough, he became one of your most loyal regulars.

you were incredibly warm and inviting. a breath of fresh air, giving him the push he needed to continue through his primitive work day. lunch time was his secret guilty pleasure, which was getting to buy some sweet desserts from an even sweeter girl, who called him “ mister nanami ” as she welcomed him in with a honeyed hello. over time, nanami started to realize that not only were you a pleasant person, but you were also incredibly endearing.

that now leads nanami to his latest predicament, which was how to ask for your phone number without looking like an idiot.

it starts with him showing up to your shop, dressed in his usual work atire, you looking in his direction at the sound of the bell. he makes his way to the display case, mind still whirring with what he should say.

“ oh! mister nanami, i have a new treat today! would you like to try one? ”

nanami is snapped out of his churring decisions, turning to you as you hold out a tray of what you had decided to make today. ah, strawberry sundaes.

“ oh, i’d love to. ” is what he responds with, smiling as you nod your head, taking one to neatly package up for him.

nanami watched your soft, delicate hands wrap his dessert in a pretty cellaphane, all the while you hum to yourself in content as you tie a bow to close it off. your soft humming to the tune that plays like a melody is all too enticing, and— oh, he’s staring. you’ve really got him wrapped around your sugar coated fingers, without a single idea of it. nanami curses himself, really, for not being man enough to grab your phone number before this. hm, how improper and cowardly of him.

“ here you are ! please, tell me how it tastes. i tried a new recipe ! ”

nanami is about to hit his thirties and yet, he feels like a child with the way his heart rate picks up at the sound of your voice. he shovels the comically tiny spoon into the sundae before taking a bite with everything on it.

you’re beautiful and you surely can make a mean sundae. that’s one thing for certain.

“ it’s delicious, as always. how much do i owe you ? let me grab my wallet— ”

“ it’s on the house ! ”

and another thing, you were just so damn generous.

“ i couldn’t possibly— ”

“ mister nanami, i insist ! you’re here almost every day, it’s the least i can do for my favorite customer ! ”

oh ?

nanami thinks all of his logistics may have been thrown out of the window, because the second he heard the implication of him being your favorite customer, accompanied by the precious blush that covers your cheeks, he really doesn’t mind being bold for once in his life.

“ ah. well i don’t want to be greedy, but i wouldn’t mind having something else on the house… ”

“ of course ! anything at all really, what would you like ? ” you innocently asked.

“ is your phone number on the menu ? ”

not a day in nanami’s life would he of ever expected himself to use such a cheesy pick up line on the sweetest girl, but when he sees that same old smile that drew him to you in the first place, he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“ for here or to go, mister nanami ? ”

[antianakin]

So here's a thought I had recently regarding Padmé's suspicion that Dooku was trying to have her assassinated back in Attack of the Clones, and the Jedi Council's doubt of the same. My thought is that while the Council's opinion on Dooku would turn out to be a grave misjudgment, Padmé didn't actually offer any evidence or even reasoning to support her. She just said "I think Count Dooku is behind [the attempts on my life]".

For me, this is such an important part of the story because it directly leads into the Council's relationship with Anakin in ROTS and the way they're a LOT more wary and mistrustful when Anakin does shady shit. Even if we ignore TCW and the added fallen Jedi who betray them there, they've already been burned once by assuming one of their own would never turn on them or do evil things. They're trying not to make the same mistake twice when they can tell Anakin is acting suspiciously.

Padme might not provide a lot of reasoning behind her suspicions, but she ultimately ends up being RIGHT about Dooku. She sees his participation in the Separatists who are doing shady shit and recognizes that his past as a Jedi does not exempt him from the suspicion of that association. The Jedi's compassion (which isn't a BAD thing) causes them to give Dooku the benefit of the doubt. They refuse to declare him guilty until he's proven to be. That compassion doesn't directly lead to any actual consequences (it doesn't cause the assassination attempts or Obi-Wan's capture), but they still LEARN from this mistake and are actively trying NOT TO MAKE IT AGAIN in the third film with Anakin.

If you want to bring TCW into account, you can see this same pattern emerging with Krell and then Ahsoka/Barriss. They get betrayed by not just Dooku, but also later Krell, so by the time they reach the Wrong Jedi arc, they explicitly say they can't rule out that a Jedi bombed the Temple. And then as much as they care about Ahsoka, they insist that they can't let their personal feelings for her override the facts in front of them that make her look exceptionally guilty. And while Ahsoka was not ultimately the one who bombed the Temple, it still WAS a Jedi who did it. And so by the time you reach ROTS and their interactions with Anakin, you can see a clear development in the Council's willingness to look on their own with more suspicion. They can no longer afford to give their own people the benefit of the doubt because they just keep being betrayed by those they had chosen to trust. And that is also part of the tragedy of what's happening to the Jedi in this era - their ability to be compassionate and extend trust, even to their own people, is being stripped from them because of the war and the influence of darkness tainting everything. Palpatine creates a world where the Jedi are forced into letting go of some of their core beliefs just to survive.

So sure, they don't have any real reason to believe Padme is right about Dooku, but the fact that they believe in him anyway and are wrong is SO IMPORTANT to the story being told here and leads really nicely into what we see of them later on.

[gffa]

I don't know if you have done this before, but can you explain the differences between EU's Darth Vader and Canon's Darth Vader in terms of power levels? I heard that EU Vader's power levels weakned after Mustafar due to losing his limbs, and yet Canon's Vader was like a beast in terms of power.

Hi! I would say that this is a bit of conflating two different things. One, is that Vader's power levels were weakened after Mustafar according to George Lucas, in terms of what Anakin could have been if he hadn't had his limbs chopped off. Second is that Vader in the OT is where he seems at his weakest, but honestly I think a lot of that is just that those movies were made in the '70s/'80s and don't have the same special effects as we do today, but that the way the other characters react to him imply that he's pretty terrifying. I mean, he chokes a dude from all the way on another ship, that's pretty walking nightmare of him! I think it makes the most sense to look at it this way: When Mustafar had just happened, Anakin was just a giant ball of rage over all the losses he'd felt, the anger he had boiling inside of him because he thought everyone betrayed him, he had the focus of hunting down the Jedi, he had his "I need you to hate me because that's the only way I'll believe you ever cared about me" dynamic with Obi-Wan to fuel his obsessions. But by the time of the OT, it had been nearly two decades of him not having any real connections to people, only his relationship with Palpatine. He had no one who sparked anything worthwhile in him, he had no one that he truly cared about (other than the whole fucked up thing with Palpatine), and it's just. A fire has gone out of him. He's old and sad and tired. There's still a few embers left that he can stir up now and again, but it's not until his obsession with Luke gets going that he really feels like anything anymore. Vader was never going to reach the heights that Anakin Skywalker could have reached, but he was still an absolute beast of a walking nightmare, from Mustafar all the way to Endor's moon. He was just too tired to display it during the movies because he'd burnt himself out after that much time of not having the kind of people around him that Anakin actually wanted. (And because they were filmed in the '70s and special effects weren't what they are now.)

[bu-blegh-ost]

Gillion and Edyn devastate me because they both love each other so much and desire the same thing, but they both at the same time serve as narrative detriments to one another. This is a tragic story of two siblings aiming to achieve the same goal of reuniting but they end up drifting apart from each other instead.

Edyn thinks she knows Gillion. She is the one to experience first hand the damage done to him, and for the longest time she was the only one Gillion was truly able to connect with. But the truth is Edyn doesn't know her brother anymore. Edyn never got to be a sister. She never got to experience being annoyed with her little brother's antics, she never learned Gill's habits, his routines, what he likes and what he hates. All she got to see was the Child broken by the Cage he resides in. A broken child that needs to be comforted, a child she loves but doesn't understand. And even with all this she knew him best of all. They shared sorrow and suffering for years and the Bond formed from mutual anguish and pain was enough to form a connection and care. All Edyn knew for so long was that she loves her little brother and that she wants to be his sister. A real one, not just the reward, a relief from pain that he Has to earn.

And Gillion thinks he knows Edyn. To him Edyn was the connection to the world itself. To Gillion Edyn is wise, unwavwring and most importantly, always right. She knows what she's doing and of course she does. She Has seen things he Has never seen before and he trusts her unconditianally. He believes she would never ever lie to him, she is the one thing that keeps him grounded in this world, a reminder of why he needs to keep going. But just like Edyn, Gillion doesn't truly know his sister. He doesn't know her aspirations, her hopes, dreams and desires, he knows nothing about her life up to this point and what she's been doing, and it's not for the lack of trying either.

Both Gill and Edyn used to hide a lot from the other to protect their sibling. Just as Gillion would be vague about things he was going through during training, trying to make is seem like he is in much less pain than he truly is to spare Edyn from things she can't prevent, Edyn was hiding the truth about a lot of things from Gillion, including the truth about the lies he Heard from the Elders in fear of Gillion breaking under the weight of his trauma after realizing that all Has been for nothing.

This behavior continued throughout their entire relationship. A pair of people who love and cherish each other more than anything, yet the world keeps creating barriers between them, until there is just so much left unfelt and unspoken they feel the need to create more barriers themselves.

When Gillion finds out just how much Edyn was not telling him, how deep her involvement with the Navy, the Elders, the war, everything is, he is left worried, hopless, hurt and betrayed. But the most prominent feeling of all is guilt. Cause Gillion trusts Edyn with his entire heart, and yet she doesn't trust him back. She thinks he can't handle it, she thinks he can't know things and it's better to hide it from him just like she Has always been doing. She thinks it is better for him, but what she is really doing is making Gillion feel worthless. To Gill, Edyn is always right so she must have a reason. To Gillion Edyn is always right, so if she thinks of him as someone who can't be trusted with a secret, who will end up ruining things for her and getting in the way, then that must be what it is. And he wants to find her, to help her so badly but Edyn accidentally created this paralysing fear inside him that if he does, he is going to be exactly what Edyn thinks of him. And he so desperately doesn't want to be that, doesn't want to be a burden on her life anymore, more than he already is since whatever she is doing she is doing it for him. The least he can do is not get in her way.

And Edyn? She goes off on her own, trying to get Gillion home, but what she doesn't realize is that Gillion doesn't need a home anymore. Gillion found his home here with Jay and Chip. But that is not the home Edyn is fighting for. She fights for Gillion to be able to go back home to the Undersea, but even if she succeeds, this will never be a home to Gillion. Not anymore. There is too much distance, too much damage to repair 17 years of abscence, 17 years without him. There are no parents anymore for Gill, only familiar strangers, and coming back there and realizing just how little there is left for him there and how much he lost will only cause him more pain. But Edyn doesn't realize it. She doesn't know what Gillion wants because she stopped asking long time ago, assumimg it for him instead, believeing he is not capable of making decisions for himself. And maybe that was true before. But it isn't now. Edyn was so caught up in her own idea of Gillion and what he is that she completely missed her little brother growing up and changing. Getting wiser and more capable, drifting away from this portrait of a helpless child she Has gotten used to many years ago. And by neglecting to notice him and see him and hear him out, Edyn didn't realise that by leaving she have deprived him of the only thing Gillion truly wanted- his loving sister. Cause that is all Gillion truly needs. His rock to keep him steady, the only one who understood him, who was there on his worst days when the only thing he could do was break down in her arms. Back when she was the only thing worth lasting another day for. And now that he thought he got her back, that she is safe and sound, she Has ripped herself away from his life once more. This time willingly, and it hurts even more.

Neither of the siblings ever wanted to hurt the other, and yet they hurt each other anyway. Because there were people who made them believe they have to hide to keep the other Safe. And it is so sick and twisted that the two of them trying to keep the other sibling away from more hurt, is the very thing that keeps exposing them both to more danger, heartbreak and pain.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Ironically i thought F&B was the worst thing Grrm has ever written, however watching hotd has made me appreciate F&B alot despite how terrible it's compared to other Grrm's good stories. it's still better than whatever Condal came with. The fact that book!Alicent& Rhaenyra despite being historical figures have much more agency than show!Alicent& Rhaenyra who are pov characters is so funny to me.

I do like F&B, but I like it for the faux history aspect of it, not the story. The story is nothing special. There are some cool bits, and I think most of the characters have the potential to be really fascinating, but they are bare bones at best.

Ultimately though, the characters in the F&B do generally act in a consistent way, and if you work backwards from their actions, you can arrive at a characterization. I feel like the show has done this with Aegon and Aemond for the most part, and even with Daemon, with a few hiccups along the way. But with Alicent and Rhaenyra they did the opposite and it shows. They started with the characters they wanted to portray, and then went about forcing these new characters to perform book events, when those events were not written for a pair of estranged ex-friends, they were written for a stepmother and stepdaughter whose relationship has always been contentious at best. The actions that Alicent and Rhaenyra take in the book are not the actions that people love each other would take. If George had written them as close friends from the start the Dance would have played out very differently!

But that's not the story he wrote, and adapting actions written for people actively antagonistic towards each other to characters who are meant to love each other forces the showrunners into certain corners. Making Otto and Daemon the masterminds orchestrating the violence (remember, in the book Otto never suggested murdering Rhaenyra and her children, and Daemon was the one who urged caution when Rhaenys wanted to go straight to war), inventing a prophesy and deathbed misunderstanding which fundamentally alter the nature of the conflict, these things are done to soften the impact of the canonical actions of these women, but it also absolutely takes away from their agency. You get a really odd situation where the showrunners simultaneously want us to believe that the women should be in charge because the men ruin everything, but the women themselves are both unable to take direct action for fear of harming each other, but also unable to retreat, because the story demands they come to a certain end. Rhaenyra cannot accept the peace terms Alicent sends, or any future peace terms she proposes, and for all that they might come into conflict, Alicent cannot actually join team black and betray her entire family, the children she spent her whole young adulthood keeping alive. Ryan Condal has said that even after Luke's death he still believes there is hope of reconciliation but we know that fundamentally that can only be true in theory because the ending is a forgone conclusion.

There are people who say that Alicent is fundamentally caught between duty and desire, and that is why her character is inconsistent, but I cannot help but think that the reason why her actions are inconsistent is because half of them were written for another character entirely.

[morurui]

Contains spoilers for episode 1 of Chaos Theory!

I was rewatching episode one with a couple of my friends today and I noticed something interesting, particularly with Ben. Consider this a chaos theory theory/character analysis. I think that out of all the characters, Ben has had the hardest time adjusting to his time one the island (not really surprising considering his whole transformation on nublar). However, the scene that really stuck out to me about this was when he was freaking out about his messages being deleted and Darius tries to comfort him. But instead of comforting him about Brooklynn’s death taking a toll on all of them he says that adjusting the mainland has taken a toll on them. This is turn causes Ben to flip out yelling at Darius to “stop patronizing him”.

If you don’t know what patronizing means here’s the definition:

treat in a way that is apparently kind or helpful but that betrays a feeling of superiority.

Since Darius is talking about their transition to the main land it’s obvious that it’s a sore subject for Ben. Especially since in the epilogue it seemed like Darius was actually doing quite well, having Ted Talks and such. This obviously makes Ben feel bad, especially if he struggled to fit in with normal society. I’m thinking Ben could’ve been bullied at school or especially if he was forced to go back (since we know he doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents because they forced him to do stuff he doesn’t want to) or had something happen to him. I think it would also kind of make sense if he dropped out of college (he said he was on a break, but imagine that plot twist that he actually dropped out 😭) cause he was still struggling with it even if it was slightly easier.

Idk just some food for thought I could be completely wrong lol

[necroromantics]

Turns out its Mental Health Awareness Month this month.... So since yall know me and my tendency to yap about mental health issues, I'm going to share some of the ways I express mental health in my Creepypasta AUs (Cryptpasta AND Laundry and Taxes, mostly just for Toby and Clockwork). Its kinda long and a nonsensical ramble.... Enjoy

CRYPTPASTA

-Nina was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder when she was 15 after a visit to the psych ward due to attempted suicide after a bad fight with an online boyfriend of hers

-She's very desperate to be loved and cared for, and intensely fears being abandoned to the point she'll put herself in harms way in an impulsive attempt to get people to stay in her life, or care for her, or want to be with her

-She has so much love to give to the point it overwhelms her, and tends to come out of her in forms of jealousy and anger outbursts, and desperate attempts to make people stay, because Nina wants love, and to give love

-Nina is also a very loyal friend who is very ride or die. She knows what its like to be left out, abandoned, betrayed, and she couldn't imagine doing that to the people she loves

-Clockwork also has BPD, she was going to be treated for it during her stay in the psychiatrist hospital when she was 16, before she killed her family, but never got around to it

-Her BPD presents a bit differently than Ninas. Her fear of abandonment and betrayal causes her to push people away entirely, and she struggles a lot with splitting

-She goes from thinking fondly about someone, to thinking they're the worst person in the world who does nothing but hurt her, because hating someone is much easier than risking loving them to her. Clockwork struggles a lot with making and keeping friends, because she can't trust anyone, and she tends to push people away at the tiniest fault as a way to protect herself

-Toby is her Favourite Person (FP), but she tries her best to beat this attachment to him down. Luckily for her, she's stuck with him, and he has zero plans of betraying or hurting her in any way. She tends to split on him a lot though

-Clockwork struggles a lot with anger and emotional dysregulation, she tends to view things in black/white, all or nothing, and is very impulsive. Because her emotions are so overwhelming and guttural, Clockwork struggles to be able to express them at all, and has a very bad habit of beating all her feelings down

-Toby was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder when he was 15 after experiencing his first manic episode, where he got into a really bad fight with his dad, ran away from home, and got sent to a psychiatric hospital where he was given proper treatment

-After becoming a proxy, he didn't have access to treatment anymore, and a combination of stress, Slender Sickness, and a lack of sleep, causes him to have more frequent and intense episodes

-During his manic episodes he is very euphoric, always on the move, talks non-stop to the point he doesn't make any sense, has racing thoughts, is insanely energetic, rarely sleeps, and is much more aggressive and irritable. They usually last one or two weeks, but if they're really intense and he's experiencing psychosis, Tim or Jack will get him medication from some victims to regulate him

-His depressive episodes feel like death for him. He isolates himself, always in bed, oversleeping. He's so tired all the time, lethargic and moody, irritable. Toby doesn't want to talk to anyone, he tends to lose all hope and humour, everything seems so heavy and bleak, like every bad thing he's ever done and been through has finally caught up to him

-On really bad days, he'll struggle with suicidal thoughts, where Jack or Brian will talk him down, and Clockwork will just sit quietly by him so he knows he's not alone, because even if it feels like the world is ending, it never really is

-Toby also deals with issues associated with Antisocial Personality Disorder, though he was never officially diagnosed because proxies don't really have psychiatrists

-Toby struggles a LOT with empathy, and is generally an insensitive prick who has a very hard time genuinely caring about other peoples lives or problems. To him, its all about self preservation, every man for himself, and if he's capable of handling his own issues then he shouldn't be expected to coddle "weak people who cant handle their own". This stems heavily from beliefs he learned from his father, and certain mindsets he utilizes to help him get by in his life as a proxy

-He also greatly struggles with appropriate emotional responses, and morality. He doesn't understand why most things are deemed "right" or "wrong", and thinks people are dramatic or care too much for having strong morals on things. Toby says what he wants without and regard for societal norms or rules, things he wasn't really taught anyways

-Toby is also in a constant battle for freedom. At a young age he was made to feel small and powerless, which caused him to constantly feel like he's fighting for power and control in his life. He tends to fulfill these needs by putting others down, or starting fights with people because he always needs to defend himself

-This also makes him a very practical and loyal friend towards the people he's fond of. He's very much an "acts of service" guy because he values his freedom so much, that he's willing to spend his time and effort and give up a little bit of freedom to the people he likes. He's a ride or die friend, and he always encourages people to stand up for themselves and do better for themselves

LAUNDRY AND TAXES

-Laundry and Taxes is an ongoing fanfiction Im writing about what life for the Creepypastas (mostly Toby and Clockwork) would look if they were suddenly transported to a world where nothing bad happened. No murder, no Slenderman.

-It's very personal to me and is about getting better and healing from trauma and mental health issues, and forgiveness, and reconciliation

-I think during mental health awareness its important to bring awareness to the facts and struggles someone might have, but also the recovery. Which is what Im gonna get into here

-The story follows Toby, who constantly struggles with his pride and "me vs the world" mindset

-He learns how to ask for help, how to put his pride aside and seek out support from the people around him. He learns how to open up and trust that people will be kind to him, and that the world isn't as bad as it seems

-His recovery is, as all good things are, insanely difficult and horrible and painful and messy, but theres a lot of focus on how worth it everything is, and how all of that gritted teeth effort, because Toby has no other choice, ends up amounting to something

-He has to face the mistakes he's made, the hurt he's caused, the guilt he pushes down. He has to learn how to be kinder to himself and others. Toby grew up in a world where he believed that it was written from the start for him to be a "bad person", and then he was forced to face the fact that he was the one doing the writing, and he has the ability to write something new for himself

-He also has to face the fact that healing isnt linear, and that the world isn't always a safe, happy place, and Toby has to learn how to handle these things in ways he never did before. Because recovery is all about learning

-The same goes for Natalie, who struggles with her past trauma, and everything she's done, and what has taken from her at a young age

-She learns how to forgive herself, and how to make peace with her anger, and how to be kinder to herself and others as well

-Natalie goes through a lot of the same realizations Toby does, and even though she spent her whole life alone and pushing people away, slowly, she starts to open up to people too and she learns how to challenge her thoughts and distrust. It's a long, difficult journey with her facing her family and her trauma and her guilt and anger, but Natalie learns that there's an entire life of peace and quietness outside of her head, outside of the past

-She learns it's okay to lean on others a bit, and that they wont hurt her, and that it's okay to feel the things she does. Natalie faces her own grief, and how suffocating it is, because its the only way she can face love too

-It takes her longer to get on track to healing because she's spent her entire life running from her problems that she never really knew how to face it, or what to do when it catches up to her. But she does get on track, and she does face her past, and that little girl in her head who's scared all the time, and how angry she is, and how loud everything is, and she becomes able to hold that little girl in her arms and sit with her for a moment

-And then, Natalie learns how to make peace with the world, and for once, she has a weird sort of hope for the future

[vegaseatsass]

Alright so 23.5 aka Toxic Positivity: The Series aka Everyone Teaches The Loser Queer Girl The World Is Kinder Than She Thinks By Viciously Gaslighting Her About Homophobia: The Series aka Teacher4Teacher Yuri and Everything Else Is Getting Memoryholed: The Series!!! I'm certain that so many words have been written about this already, but I haven't been on tumblr since Monday so I need to just exorcise my own reactions before I read anyone else's. I am really intentional these days about giving space to art to be descriptive rather than prescriptive, that is, to portray people acting in ways I find annoying or aggravating or cruel or despicable and to not jump to "how DARE this narrative betray me by saying it's good, actually, to be annoying or aggravating or cruel or despicable" even if the people who do those things in the text are supported by the other characters or circumstances in the text. I am very against "character acted badly, therefore bad things should happen to them so we can KNOW the narrative understands they were bad". However!!! For this series to have ONGSA'S OWN PARENTS ACT AS SPOKESPEOPLE FOR SUN'S PERSPECTIVE. Like her parents, who Ongsa was visibly afraid were going to reject her for her queerness, not only not care she's queer (because homophobia is fake in this universe except for Ongsa's inexplicable internalized homophobia which is treated as a character flaw), but behave like automatons Sun programmed dialogue into, scolding Ongsa for 1. not coming out to them sooner 2. "thinking for" Sun, as if that's something they'd have any context for (even IF Aylin and Alpha filled them in). That took the sense of "this narrative is taking Sun's side in her forced outing of her partner, doubling down on it and making sure every single character agrees she was right" to the next fucking level. It had the vibes of being a supportive coming out scene too but they weren't embracing their daughter for who she was - they certainly weren't letting her have her own identity and voice and needs! - they were just drumming home how correct Sun was in her every teenaged interpretation of who Ongsa was and should be. So that moved me firmly away from being able to employ a "Sun is a teenager behaving like a teenager" read on a storyline I find noxious. That moved us firmly into the territory of "we are being strongarmed into agreeing Sun is a JUSTIFIED, morally righteous teenager, who fixed her relationship/girlfriend by outing her against her will." It's just truly flabbergasting to me because without the outing plotline (which I understand was in the novel so maybe that's why it was forced on us despite its dissonance with the rest of the story), there are the ingredients of something I really, truly could have loved:

Sun being scared by the intensity of her own attachment and behaving badly because of it. This is literally one of my number one tropes of all time. I am OBSESSED with people becoming their worst selves because they're so terrified of how in love they are, the depth of their need for their partner.

Sun feeling bitter about giving up her future for Ongsa and not believing Ongsa (ONGSA) would do a similar level gesture for her, when Ongsa doesn't want her to give up her future for her and really Sun's bitterness is an internal cue that she doesn't want to give up her future herself, even if she loves Ongsa desperately and passionately.

Ongsa being so focused on what everyone else thinks of her and Sun that she can't hear Sun tell her what Sun thinks, and wants.

Much more importantly to me, Ongsa being so trapped in articulating her own needs as "I was worried about how things would affect you, Sun!" that she cannot voice her own actual feelings about things: "I don't want to come out because I'm afraid my parents will reject me." "I don't want to come out because I'm not ready for the entire school's hyper-scrutiny on me and my relationships." There was a really narratively rich story there where Ongsa tells Sun everything she does is with Sun in mind, and it takes a little bit of untangling to admit that actually, she has her own needs SUN is not hearing and those fucking matter too.

There was a great, great episode 11 conflict in those dynamics. They could have fought about who sits in front on Sunny the motorbike drawing on those dynamics and given me a more compelling episode than what we actually fucking got. You know? And that's not even getting into the, I feel, missteps with Aylin's writing and that relationship the past two episodes, or the way they won't let MawinTon be great and I'm actually afraid Mawin is going to end the series single and we'll be expected to appreciate how pure his supportive onesided love for Tinh is. Honestly probably good there was no teacher4teacher yuri in ep11 because I'm sure they would have found a way to ruin the number one thing I will be describing as this series' strength going forward. Well, that and the acting. MilkLove are acting their ASSES off. but for what.

[luxaryllis]

A Decision You Won't Regret: Azul Ashengrotto

Note: Sorry heh it's not a request in here but here's another fic for @twst-charity! It's a Twisted Wonderland-themed charity drive for Palestine. I highly encourage everyone to go to support them and the charity drive, such as spreading word around for it, and donating and sending in requests. Their pinned post and blog in general has a lot of information, and they also have contributor sign-ups open as well! I really hope you guys can support in any way you can!

Here's the link to donate and send in requests, which can also be found in their pinned post and the blog as well! You just have to give a proof of donation and send in your request there.

I had so much fun writing this fic hehe, as Azul is one of my personal fav characters! The donor requested for a Hurt/Comfort platonic fic with Azul and Yuu. This Yuu is completely gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns, and there aren't any specific warnings here!

Anyway, I do hope to do more fics for the charity drive, as well as the many number of requests in my own inbox soon, since it is summer break for me now and I know how long some of you have been waiting hehe!

"You and your tender disposition will only be taken advantage of here. If you ever feel like you've drawn the short straw, come see me. You won't regret it.”

Azul told Yuu that once, after they had helped him out for what felt like the nth time since they became “friends” (in Yuu’s standards). At the time, they had shrugged it off as nothing; they were careful, after all. 

“I’ll be fine, Azul.” They told him, waving his words off with an easy-going smile. “I’ve been a student in NRC for months now. I know how the students here work, plus I know my boundaries and what I don’t want to do. Trust me.”

Azul held back a scoff, knowing how untrue that statement was. He knew Yuu well enough to be able to tell that their kindness would be their downfall. He still remembered how, deep in desperation, they recklessly made a deal with him simply to save their friends (who were paying the price for their own actions). Yuu was too kind. Too compassionate. Too selfless. While Azul had seen them scolding their friends for their foolish actions, he knew that Yuu would never betray or leave them behind. No matter what happened to them, Yuu’s altruism would always make them such an easy target. Pure benevolence will never come rewarded unless you get something in return. And a life of selflessness is simply signing your soul off to all sorts of pain and cruelty.

No world has a place for someone who blindly offers up themself to help others. Azul learned that when he was just a child. And he can see where Yuu’s path will bring them; straight to a time of despair in the hands of the people they wrongly chose to trust. And Azul will be there, to grant them comfort and a way to stop the pain. He will be their saving grace in a time of need. All for a simple price, of course. Unlike Yuu, Azul knows how the world works, and he knows that all it takes for such a kind-hearted person to lose their strong spirit is just a couple of betrayals and misunderstandings. Weakened people are always the easiest people to wring a profit out of too.

A profit, nothing more than business, was all Azul thought of his “friendship” with Yuu. Every time Yuu would help him, he would find a way to make up for it; be it through study guides, notes, some extra help gathering ingredients for Alchemy class, or simply managing to convince Sam to lower prices for groceries they were planning to buy, Azul would always pay back his debt, even if Yuu didn’t know it was him in the first place. 

Any debt that hasn’t been paid, Azul kept note of. He had a list, ready to pull out should the opportunity arise. To Azul, this was all just a transactional business; while it was obvious that Yuu had no such intentions, Azul was ready to pounce, should the opportunity arise. Yuu has the heart of gold, and Azul has a mind that greeds for gold. And a true businessman would never let any opportunity pass him by. Even if that means the downfall of someone else.

That was Azul’s mindset as he spent more time with Yuu. Every gift and act of goodness he offers, he justifies it as him “paying back his debt”. And yet, slowly, he’s stopped looking for ways to force Yuu to do favors for him in return for his “kindness”. He still thought he saw this whole thing as a transaction; it was just him getting used to their constant presence in his life. No, he’s not getting attached to them; he invited them for lunch to learn more about what makes them tick. Surely, he could find something he can take advantage of. He’ll use the information he gets for a way to have another leg up on someone else.

So why does he feel strings tug at his heart as he watches them sob and wail at his feet, begging him for help. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? The Ramshackle prefect is right there, deeper in despair than Azul had ever seen before. Yuu is completely open and vulnerable for the taking, like an unsuspecting bubble approaching a spike, waiting to pop it. And yet, Azul finds himself feeling the exact opposite of relief. He feels worried, even a little angry at the thought of someone taking advantage of his friend.

Wait. His… friend? Since when does Azul think of Yuu as his friend? Are they even true friends? A small voice in Azul’s mind shouts, “No! You thought of taking advantage of them multiple times! True friends don’t do that.” And the second-year most certainly agrees, trying to ignore the sting in his chest at the thought of being such a terrible friend to someone who trusts him enough to come to him for help. What a rubbish excuse of a friend Azul is, if he thinks he can be Yuu’s friend, after everything he’s done to them.

“Prefect… tell me what happened. Every detail, please.” Azul musters up the strength to speak, and he realizes that he no longer needs to try pretending that he cares. It’s like it’s instinctive to want to know who made tears marr the Ramshackle prefect’s face. He's sure to make sure that whoever did shall pay a dear price, and he's even more certain that Jade and Floyd would be happy to help get to the bottom of this. 

The moment he finds out the truth, Azul starts to scheme in his mind. Taking advantage of the prefect, his… friend, like this is considered a slight against Azul himself. At least, that's what he tells himself as he plans the perpetrator's downfall. It's what he tells himself as he brings Yuu into the Mostro Lounge, personally making a drink for them and getting them some snacks. 

It's simple revenge, Azul tells himself as he learns the identity of Yuu's perpetrators and begins to think of ways to ruin their life. Night Raven College is a dog-eat-dog school, after all. Azul can't blame others for finding it easy to take advantage of the Ramshackle prefect's kindness, but he can most certainly blame others for taking advantage of his friend.

It feels weird to call Yuu his friend, Azul thinks to himself as he makes idle and (hopefully) comforting chatter with the prefect. After what he's done to them, it feels almost hypocritical and wrong to be friends with them. Azul knows that getting revenge on their behalf still won't make him a worthy friend, but perhaps it will help ease his unease about being a horrible friend to the prefect.

For now, though, Azul will focus on making sure that Yuu is comforted and feels better. “Please, make yourself at home here in the Mostro Lounge. The drinks and food are on the house.” He tells them, watching with a fond smile as they slowly start to calm down from their crying fit.

“Worry not, prefect. Jade, Floyd and I will make sure that they will pay dearly for what they've done.”

As Azul escorts the prefect out of Mostro Lounge, he stops them for a bit, and hesitantly tries to speak what he truly feels. “Thank you, Yuu. Thank you for trusting me enough to come to me.” He gives them a soft smile, and hopes that the prefect understands how grateful he is at the surplus amount of trust they've put in him.

Azul has long grown used to losing people's trust in him, especially after he's wrung them out for his advantage. He's always prepared to let go of his “clients” after they lose use to him. It's gone to a point where barely anyone can place their full trust in Azul, no matter how hard he genuinely tries to take back such faith in him. The Ramshackle prefect having so much trust in Azul is… a nice change. A foolish decision on the prefect's part for sure, but Azul promises himself it won't be one they regret.

[imtrying-ok]

I'm from a family where women are in charge of most things, finances, the house, bills getting paid on time, important administrative and historical documents and papers, family heirlooms (men are so dumb, they can't be trusted with that stuff!), the children. In my subconscious mind, women work harder. Women go to work everyday and men are just lazy slobs. All men are good for is a (smaller, obviously) supplementary income, having kids with, maybe cooking, and only sometimes emotional companionship. (I am serious - this has been said to me in different ways by multiple family members, from my mom to my great grandmother)

I was told I was so lucky to be born a girl, because I get to join this long line of women. That they were so lucky I was born a girl so they had someone to continue a legacy with. That they could dream of never loving a boy the same way. That they could never let a man continue this legacy, he's too dumb! He'd lose everything. He wouldn't care about the legacy, obviously. He'd just ruin it like all men do. They're so glad I'm around, I'll inherit everything and take great care of it.

I wanted to wear a suit to my father's wedding and they were scared. They heard me going by my gender neutral last name instead of my feminine first name (inherited from my greatx5 grandmother no less) and they hated it. "Don't you want to be a girl?" But I know what they really meant was "don't you want to be what I think you should be?" Then my grandmother talks about how she's scared she won't have anyone to inherit her house, her things, the pieces of history she takes care of (a piece of the Berlin wall, an old German family Bible, my family's passports from the 1800s, a handwoven tapestry, etc... "old country" stuff that every European immigrant family has laying around for some reason. But that's for another post.)

I know why it apparently can't go to me anymore. I've been 'tainted'. My beautiful feminine qualities have been pushed out by my desire to be a handsome untrustworthy kind violent man (they can't even call me that) other . They could handle if I was a lesbian, it was only logical to like other women, and my mother dated women as often as she dated men throughout my life. They could handle if I didn't want kids, in fact, I was told explicitly to not have them in the past (thanks grandma), they can betray you and leave you heartbroken (thanks mom). They couldn't handle me being a man.

There is some kind of inherent quality of being a man that makes you bad. And I was choosing to betray them and myself.

Needless to say, I don't feel very comfortable in trans or feminist spaces.

[cositapreciosa]

I love your narcos fic so much.i read all of them and i wanna say thank you for writing so many masterpiece and sharing with us 🙏🏻🙏🏻💖💖💖can you write some short fic about Pacho Herrera x gn/reader? pls 🥺🥺🥺

Colombian gold

Pacho Herrera x gn!reader, (nothing very bad, the usual for the show) 2512 words "you have a date? how much did you pay them?" by @novelbear

a/n : thank you !! <3333 enjoy this maybe not short fic of his

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx

Tagging the narcos fam @narcolini @drabbles-mc @anunhealthydoseofangst @hausofmamadas @ashlingnarcos

Pacho doesn’t really know why he is here. Sure, maybe it is Miguel's birthday party and he was invited, maybe it might also be about the bigger picture, that Miguel fucked up with the US government, fucked up with their shipments, this event a good occasion to make sure Miguel knows who he is working for. This could be a phone call, he could have sent someone else, but why keep himself away when he could come to Mexico, enjoy the drinks, the food, your company.

He likes to think he is bigger than this, those events, the gluttony of it all, bigger than the jealousy that pierces his chest when he sees you across the pool, someone’s arm wrapped around your own. This jealousy is hot, burning through his chest in a way he has never felt before. It overpowers him, but he can only watch and clap with everyone else as fireworks boom and light up the sky. He catches eyes with Miguel a few meters away from you, he is sulking, as usual. Oh, Pacho thinks, what wouldn’t he endure to get what he really wants.

He is almost grateful when he exits the chapel. The air is refreshing, he needs a new drink, and there is an extra stride in his steps when he eventually notices you, leaning against the bar, alone. He feels it again, hot, burning, tearing him apart. The cold glass counter soothes the burn as he props himself next to you.

‘’ You have a date? ‘’ He starts. ‘’ How much did you pay him? ‘’

You turn to him. There is a pink tint to your cheeks, something glossy about your lips, a few drinks perhaps, something irresistible. Your eyes shine from the lights above you, they twinkle as you recognize him.

‘’ I don’t pay for dates, I’ll let you know. I usually turn down offers. ‘’

‘’ Hmm. ‘’

Pacho knows you don’t have to pay for them. Of course, you don’t, not when the silk covering your body fits you like a glove, not when the gold wrapped around your neck makes your skin glow.

He remembers meeting you for the first time, a few steps behind Miguel at all times. Pacho didn’t know your name back then, but he noticed your sharp thinking, the clues and pieces of puzzles you picked up that others would never have seen. You were the smart one he had quickly realized, out of the bunch, those that would only follow, monkeys.

He remembers when the lines had started to blur, when his hand would press the small of your back to direct you to your seat, to his apartment. He would call you on occasion, pretexting work, shipments, and anything in between. Pacho knew you could see through it all, the small gestures, the gifts, you had to, how could you not?

Pacho hated how the Plaza could not see your potential in the same light he would. Greed and jealousy run the world, and it certainly motivated your colleagues too. He had tried to make you see through it, how little they thought of you, how you could do so much more if you left them, joined someone else, him.

‘’ I can’t. I owe Miguel everything, you know that. ‘’

‘’ Loyalty is what will get you killed, they will betray you if they have to. ‘’

‘’ You don’t know that. ‘’

‘’ Are you willing to wait and find out? ‘’

Pacho knew you weren’t, he knew there was something in you that was meant for better, greater things.

‘’ Did Miguel tell you coming to his birthday party alone was forbidden? ‘’ He continues, digging for more information.

‘’ Well, Maria sure does tell me every day how sorry she is for me that I am single. ‘’ Your eyes squint, taking him in, ‘’ But I see that you didn’t get influenced by the backhanded comments. ‘’

‘’ Well, I thought my favourite Mexican would be single for the night, that would have fixed the problem, don’t you think? ‘’

He can see the red that colours your cheeks now, a nice blush. Your eyes burn into his with intrigue.

‘’ Chapo is indeed single. I knew you liked them short and moreno. ‘’

He laughs with you on that one, maybe, he thinks, but he does like you better. More his type, more everything, addicting.

‘’ So, ‘’ the ice inside your drink clinks as you swirl the liquid around, ‘’ What brings you to this part of the world, colombiano? ‘’

‘’ You. ‘’

He could have thought this through a little bit better and made it seem like he was coming for business anyway, that this was just such a happy coincidence, but he couldn’t, not after how you had left last time. It always started like it usually did, music, wine, deep conversations over the balcony, but it also always finished the same, accusing fingers, your clothes back in your suitcase, the betrayed look on your face when he would mention how he can’t believe you are letting them walk over you once more.

There is no point in walking around it because he knows now why you plague his mind, you have got to know too, you have to. Maybe he has had one too many drinks.

‘’ I think you know why I always come back, why I come to waste my time en ese campo with those half-assed associates of yours. ‘’

‘’ Pacho. ‘’

A warning maybe. Do not say such words it means, not now, but he can’t seem to care. At home or overseas, he is a king, untouched. He is so close to you he can see the dots of gold in your eyes better now, raise his hand and feel your forearm with the inside of his palm as you let him. He could kiss you, he thinks, right now, in front of everyone and feel no shame. It would show them, he thinks, payasos.

‘’ Don’t kiss me, ‘’ you plead, eyes glued to his, ‘’ Not here. I can’t, I- ‘’

More fireworks set off in the distance, and another whiskey is pushed toward him by the bartender, but just when he thinks that everything is okay, that this could still be your moment, even when all the noise comes back, even after everyone starts moving again in your peripheral vision, your date puts his arm around your waist.

He doesn’t like how you tense, caught off guard. There is a ringing in his ears, a call for fury, anger, of knives and guns, whatever he can get his hand on. His fingers tighten around his glass, he doesn’t know this one, whoever you decided was fit enough to join your side for a few hours, and he doesn’t care to.

‘’ I suggest you bring your business elsewhere tonight. ‘’

‘’ Pacho, please- ‘’ You pitch up, trying to stop him, the threats, the powertrip, but it is useless.

‘’ I won’t ask twice. ‘’ He continues.

Pacho knows his gun is easily visible tucked into his pants, and quick eyes up and down from your date tell him he saw it too. It does not take much for him to leave after that, after Pacho makes a show of sipping his whiskey and leaning back to display the loaded pistol. You nod to the poor man to go, freeing him from the spectacle.

‘’ Now you are just being mean. ‘’ You tsk.

Pacho’s eyes are still following the man’s back into the crowd until he is but a speck of colour in his sight.

‘’ I didn’t see you try to get him to stay either. ‘’

You bring the last sip of your drink to your mouth.

‘’ What is it Pacho, what do you want? ‘’

Your empty glass is pushed to the side as you lean toward him, your eyes serious.

‘’ And don’t say me, don’t say any other business chingaderas. I want the truth. ‘’

Pacho catches the bartender’s attention and he orders you another glass, something sweet, exactly how you like it. Too much sugar will kill you. Maybe, but I’m pretty sure smoking will get to you first. Mostly it is to kill time and take this moment to think about how to say it, if he should at all. What has been bothering him for a long time, what he knows now since the chapel. Pacho lets you take a sip first, and you let him pay without fighting for the bill.

‘’ Miguel is not being honest with me, I know he is planning something, but I am not sure why. ‘’ He clears his throat. ‘’ I’d like you to listen and, if you want, report anything concerning to me. ‘’

Your reaction is instantaneous, like you have been stung by his words, your body reacting in disbelief. He knows how hard this must be for you, as it is for him too. He loathes how political your relationship has been lately, that you are just a piece of the puzzle being tossed around between them, always trying to win, to triumph. Your laugh is dry, void of emotion.

‘’ You’ve gone insane. ‘’ You shake your head. ‘’ And here I thought for a second you liked me. ‘’

‘’ You know how I feel about you, when has it ever been a secret? ‘’

Your eyes trail off elsewhere, in the crowd, the tiger in the cage. Pacho takes a step closer, approaching again when you let him. His hand moves up, thumb touching your chin, fingers pressing on your jaw, gently bringing your gaze his way.

‘’ Only if you want. Think about it, ‘’ About everything, about what we could do together. ‘’ I won’t hold it against you if you don’t. ‘’

His thumb caresses your bottom lip, a touch for the road, a touch to remember. He smiles, softly, trying to smooth out the tension in your body.

‘’ Enjoy the party, okay? ‘’

He means it. Your tongue rolls around in your mouth, biting back words as you shake him off you. And then he leaves, simply because there is nothing else he can do, he walks to the car, drives to the hotel, home and then he waits. However long it would take.

.

One morning the phone rings, the one he keeps with him at all times, the one he reserves for your number only, no one else's. It feels heavy in his hand, burning through the skin, through his heart, he hadn’t heard from you for weeks now. It takes him a few seconds before he reacts, pressing the button and bringing the phone to his ear.

‘’ Pacho. ‘’

He hears the crackle of your voice over the receiver, flat, his name an acknowledgement, barely a hello. You had only called once after the party, mostly to yell at him, drunk and incoherent. A time when he could do nothing but listen and send a car to your house to make sure you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself. Something he still hadn’t received a thank-you card for, no apologetic phone call, just a deafening silence in return, no more late-night conversations, your side of the bed still cold.

He had thought you wouldn’t call again after that, not when you had been so angry, how you had told him that this must have been all a trick from the beginning. Like a snake, you had spit at him through the phone, trying to break the ranks, the long-earned trust.

Letting you plant doubt into my head at Miguel’s birthday was a mistake.

‘’ Are you there? ‘’

I am. He is, holding onto the satellite phone like his life depends on it.

‘’ I want you to listen very carefully, ‘’ You begin, ‘’ I’ll only say this once. ‘’

This call is moving too fast. Pacho knows this isn’t an apology, and frankly, he doesn’t expect one, but he had hoped you would have been a bit more forgiving, less strategic, less straight to the point. He hears you move around, doors closing and opening, probably at home from what has been reported to him lately.

‘’ Miguel will talk to Don Juan in Matamoros before your meeting. This is what you wanted, right? Information like this? Because this is the last time, I’m done, I’m leaving Mexico. ‘’

He feels like he has been stabbed, straight through the heart and pulled.

‘’ Why? Where are you going? ‘’

Come to me, he wants to say, I’ll fly you in, I’ll protect you.

‘’ Listen, I know you can one-up his deal. ‘’ Hair brushes against the receiver. ‘’ Miguel will know I ratted out the second he gets to your meeting, use it wisely. ‘’

‘’ Don’t hang up. Talk to me. ‘’

He calls your name through the phone, pleading, he knows how desperate his voice might sound, he knows he is. Tell me what happened, and I’ll take care of it. Pacho knows running away is your next step, hang up and disappear, leave and hide, but he won’t allow it, not when he can take you in and make sure you are safe.

In his arms forever at last.

‘’ Miguel wants Guerra to get into the cocaine business, if it works he’ll have leverage, and if the Caribbean corridor closes you’ll- ‘’

‘’ No. ‘’ He has to take a deep breath, remind himself to stay focused on the task at hand. ‘’ No, not that. What happened? ‘’

Why are you leaving? What did they do?

‘’ I- Pacho, I can’t stay on the phone much longer- ‘’

He holds the phone in a tight grip, sweaty fingers, gold rings crushing the plastic.

‘’ I am sending someone to pick you up. Don’t leave your house. ‘’

He can feel your hesitation over the phone, all the planning that would have to be thrown out the window, what it would mean to be seen by his side. This is not just business anymore to him, it hasn’t been for a long time.

‘’ I owe you that. Let me. ‘’

He had longed for this, a phone call, a letter, news of your well-being. A chance to save you, steal you away.

‘’ Okay. ‘’ You sound small, resigned. You know better than to refuse, ‘’ I’ll wait. ‘’

The second you hang up, Pacho is on the move, snapping fingers left and right, setting up cars, planes, whatever it will take to get you out. It scares him to death, the idea of you alone in Mexico, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for someone to figure out something is wrong, to see if Miguel would act on it.

He has a different feeling this time, nothing hot or burning like before. It spreads through him, a searing pain. It isn’t jealousy anymore, fear perhaps.

Maybe it is, he realizes.

Letting you plant doubt into my head at Miguel’s birthday was a mistake.

Maybe it was.