#ive never thought about it from this angle before

[hella1975]

complicated relationship with taob be damned i have never peaked higher than i did when i was studying tragedies for my english class and wrote the fever dream chapter

[azrielsdove]

Ive been loving all the fics youve been posting. I had this lil idea that hopefully sparks joy for you if ur requests are open. Its an azriel x reader. Where reader is very cold hearted and kinda mean almost bitchy like nesta. Hates to be touched eapecially on her back. Azriel hates her cuz she so unpleastant and so incredibly difficult. The bond snaps for azriel and hes so so confused because he for sure thought elain was for him. Reader always looks at azriels hands almost disgusted but the truth is that she had her wings cut off and the stumps burned down to her flesh, so her entire back is scarred like azriels hands. Her face isnt of disgust but since he hides his hands she assumes he'd be disgusted in her. Azriel softens up to her when he finds out she has a soft spot for children, maybe she teaches orphaned children in the city. Idk i just like the idea of a cold hearted reader thats just as scarred as azzy but actually has a soft heart for kids. Or maybe shes always longed for a family of her own but cant get passed her own insecurities. You can change whatever you'd like to fit your writing style. ❤️

Thank you love!!!! I am OBSESSED with this idea and took off with it. I decided to turn it into a mini series, when I started writing the Readers POV it was getting wayyyy long. I hope I have done your idea justice, here is part 1 <3

Cold Hearts: Azriel x Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Pt. 2 Here

***

Azriel couldn’t stand her. She was nothing but cold and hateful to everyone, especially to him. When she had first come to stay with Rhysand in Velaris, he had tried to be kind to her. Rhys hadn’t told anyone why he brought her, and she certainly never opened up about it.

The first day he met her, she was sitting silently in the small library in the House of Wind. Azriel had smiled at her and given a “Good morning.” She had turned sharply to look at him, her gaze focusing on the hand he waved with. He watched the look of disgust come over her face before she turned back to staring into the fire.

Azriel had been a little taken aback. Sure, he struggled with the way his hands looked, and was no stranger to the dirty looks. The look on her face had been nastier than he had ever seen. She looked at his hands like they caused her pain. He left the library after that, not sure what to think.

Many years had gone by since that first meeting, and Azriel preferred to stay far away from her. No one else wears very fond of her either. He still didn’t know why Rhys had brought her here, nor why he allowed her to stay. She spent most of her days locked in her room or sitting in the library. She occasionally came to meals with the family, rarely speaking. And when she did speak? It was always some cold remark, as if she wanted to be anywhere else with anyone else.

So why did she stay?

Azriel pondered that question far too often. When Rhys became trapped Under the Mountain, he had included that everyone should be prepared for war in his last message. Azriel took it upon himself to train her. He had shown up to her room early in the morning, expecting a fight. To his shock, she willingly came.

She took to training quicker than Azriel had thought. She proved to have some skill under that cold shell she showed everybody, even if it took some coaxing for it to come out. He was impressed. Azriel even started enjoying teaching her, until the day she lashed out at him and declared she never wanted to see him again.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He was trying to teach her a slightly difficult new maneuver. She was struggling to angle her body the correct way, unable to understand how Azriel did it. He had reached out to help her, placing a hand on her lower back and shoulder to move her body into place. She shot out of his grasp like he had stabbed her, whipping around to face him.

“What do you think you are doing?” She had seethed, eyes on fire. Azriel had held his hands up in surrender, confused.

“I was just trying to help-“ He had begun, being cut off by her.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking touch me.” She had glared at his hands, a stare he didn’t miss.

“I don’t understand why you must be so insufferable all of the time!” Azriel had snapped, fed up with the constant negativity and judgement that came from her.

“Maybe don’t be a nasty pig and grab up on any female you see!” She had shouted, turning to leave the ring. “Stay away from me. I don’t wish to see you anymore.”

And that was that.

Cassian had taken over her training from then on out. Azriel was fine with it. She clearly had some sort of issue with him, and it seemed to stem from his hands. His ugly, scarred hands. Were they really so grotesque she couldn’t even stand him touching her?

***

When Rhysand had returned from Under the Mountain, things got better and worse. At first, she had been kinder. Azriel had noticed how she rushed to Rhys before anyone else, how carefully she wrapped him in her arms. The two of them had disappeared after that, not seen until the next day. Azriel couldn’t figure out why the two of them had such a bond, why Rhysand cared for her so much. He had just come back and announced that the human girl - Feyre - was his mate, so it couldn’t be a romantic attraction.

Or could it?

Azriel shook his head, demanding those thoughts the leave his mind. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ran through him. He didn’t know why he cared so much about her.

***

Elain. There was no doubt in Azriels mind that Elain was his. Rhysand had Feyre, Cassian had Nesta, naturally Azriel would have Elain. It didn’t matter that the cauldron had mated her with Lucien. Three sisters, three brothers. Anyone could read what that meant.

Azriel tried not to notice the way she had slunk into the shadows lately. When Feyre first came to the Night Court, the two had struck up a friendship. Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes and ears when he saw how fun and sweet she was with Feyre. It further confirmed his belief that she was so disgusted in his scars that she couldn’t stand to be near him. She had even started to being nicer to Cassian, her training with him going much better than yours with Azriels had.

Once the bond snapped with Feyre and Rhysand, she had taken a small step back from the both of them. When it snapped with Cassian and Nesta, she had backed away from Cass as well. She barely even had a witty retort anymore, choosing to stay quiet most of the time.

Azriel felt like no one else had noticed the change in her. However, he had to admit, so much change had happened in such a short time that he couldn’t blame them for not realizing.

Why did he realize?

Even as she created small friendships with the others, she ignored Azriel. She only looked at him to stare at his hands. He had taken to wearing his gloves around her at all times, but she just stared as if she could see through the fabric. He had spent decades trying to be nice to her, for nothing. She rarely spoke to him, mostly just gave that look to his hands.

She was always going to be cruel to him.

***

Azriel was trying desperately to find a Solecist gift for Elain. He knew he had a reputation for gifts, and he wanted to make sure what he got Elain was perfect. As perfect as she is.

And he had no idea what that would be.

He was wandering the paths of Velaris aimlessly, peering into the stores as he passed, trying to see anything that seemed like Elain. He was getting worried that he would never find anything, turning away from yet another shop.

He stopped when he saw her.

She was inside a little building, large windows open for anyone to see in. He watched as she stood at the front of the room, facing a small group of…children? He angled his body a little to see clearly into the room, listening to her voice come through the window. Her tone was kinder than he had ever heard it. Azriel watched with wide eyes as she demonstrated a defense move-a move he had taught her.

And now she was teaching it to children.

He watched for the rest of the class, amazed at how well the kids grasped onto the concepts she was teaching. He felt his heart skip when her laughter floated out the windows, a bright smile on her face as she looked at one of the students. He had never seen her like this before.

When the class ended he watched as one of the smaller children ran up to her and threw their arms around her legs. Azriel expected her to jump back at the touch, instead watching her bend down and wrap her arms around them. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe any of this. He turned and headed back to the House, the gift for Elain long forgotten.

***

He wanted to approach her. He wanted to ask about the children he saw her teaching. He had a sudden desire to know more about her, to see who she may be under that cold exterior.

Azriel should have known she wouldn’t let him.

It was a few days after he had spotted her in town, and he had finally found her alone in the little library. He cleared his throat as he approached her, hoping to get her attention. Of course, she ignored him. He shouldn’t have been hurt by it, but he had been so hopeful after seeing her with the children.

Azriel called her name.

Her head slowly turned to him, eyes blazing. “Yes?” She asked coolly. Azriel have a small smile, refusing to lose his nerve now.

“I saw you, in town? With the children? I-“ He started, cut off by her suddenly standing.

“Spying on me, are you?” She asked, anger all over her face.

“No! No! I was shopping, for Elain, and I happened to walk by!” Azriel was gesturing wildly, not wanting you to think he was following you. “I saw you and then I saw the children and I was interested. You were, nice to them.” He cursed the words as they came out of his mouth, sounding just as sorry as one could imagine.

She scoffed. “Why would I not be? They’re kids.” Her words were sharp and Azriel felt embarrassment creep up his neck.

“Well, you’re not really nice to anyone.” He bit out, temper rising as she laughed.

“You don’t know anything about me.” She said, looking at him curiously.

“Oh? Is that so?” Azriel felt the words coming out before he could stop them, all the things he had wanted to say for years. “Maybe that’s because you don’t let anyone get close to you. I tried to be your friend in the beginning, just for you to be cold and nasty. You are always cold and nasty. I’ve noticed you slowly losing the friends you have made, slinking off into the shadows. Do you ever stop to think that maybe it’s because you’re a cold-hearted bitch?”

She looked like he had slapped her.

“W-what?” She stumbled out, eyes wide.

Now it was Azriels turn to scoff. “Don’t pretend to be innocent now. You rarely speak to anyone except for Rhys, and when you do it’s usually to tell them to leave you alone! Even when I was trying to train you, you lashed out at me for just trying to help. You have always acted like I disgust you, always glaring at my hands. Do they really upset you so much that you have to act like i’m the worst thing you’ve ever encountered? That you have to look at me like that and flinch when I touch you? I tried to be nice to you, just for you to react like that.” He was breathing heavy, all the hurt coming to the surface.

He watched her eyes flash and then suddenly, she was yelling at him. “How dare you? You have no idea what you are talking about. Are you so self centered that you truly believe everything I do is about you? Do you ever stop for one second to think that maybe, just maybe, I have my own shit to deal with?” Her cheeks were colored red, her hands clenching into fists.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “We all have our own shit going on. It doesn’t mean we take all of our miserable feelings out on everyone else!”

“I don’t! I just don’t have any interest in getting close with you. Not everyone has to want to lick the ground you walk on, Shadowsinger.” She spat out the last word like it was dirt in her mouth.

“Why not? What have I ever done that makes you hate me so? What has any of us done? The only one of us you would talk to for years was Rhysand. Did you love him? Are you bitter now that he has a mate and no one will ever be interested in you?” Azriel knew that was a low blow, but his anger overrode him common sense.

“What are you talking about? The relationship between me and Rhysand is none of your business. For a spymaster, you’re truly horrible at reading a situation.” She was angry, angrier than she had been in decades.

Azriel didn’t care. “No one here likes you. They’ve all moved on from their short friendships with you. Even your precious Rhys has found someone else to occupy his time with. Why do you stay here? You have no one.” He felt the pain in his chest at the expression on her face.

She blinked quickly, fighting tears. “You are the cruel one, Azriel.” She turned and ran from the room, leaving him in the aftermath of their fight.

It was the first time she had said his name.

He felt it snap in his chest, the tug to follow you. He could barely react, the shock of it keeping him rooted to the spot. No, he thought. No. Not her. It wasn’t supposed to be her.

The mating bond didn’t care for his concerns.

***

Please let me know how you feel!! Honestly Pt. 2 should be out tonight or tomorrow, i’m pretty far into it. I’m thinking this will be a 3-4 part mini series!!!

[smashboxgirl26]

i crumble completely when you cry

ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! reader summary: this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, but sometimes mistakes yield the best results contains: proposal!! (for @/pityslash <33), kinda ooc soft bakugou but im blaming it on him getting a concussion, mentions of injury, lots of fluff hehe word count: 1.8k words masterlist

Katsuki awoke to a darkened room with white, tiled speckled ceiling cut into rectangles and an IV in his arm; you were sleeping in the plastic chair at his bedside, head leaning against the wall and your mouth slightly open. It was probably about two or three in the morning, judging by the dimmed light coming from the hospital hallway.

Fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He shifted around slightly under the thin sheets, grunting as he tried to move his (apparently broken) right arm to fit in the pocket of his hero costume. A sigh of relief pushed past his lips when he felt the little velvet box still stashed away, thankfully left untouched.

And god– fuck did his head hurt… but this wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

You were still dressed up — makeup and all, heels sitting next to you on the floor, the pretty black satin dress he watched you show off before you both left for dinner: now bunched up in your lap between your palms as you slept. 

You were definitely going to complain about the crook in your neck when you woke up from the way your head was angled against the wall. You should’ve just gone home and slept properly in bed: but he knew arguing with you would’ve been fruitless — you’d refuse to leave his side like you always did. 

Katsuki let out a small huff as he stared back up at the darkened ceiling.

This was supposed to be your anniversary. He had it all planned out: flowers, dinner, taking a walk through the park near the apartment to get ice cream, proposing in the little ramada he’d gotten Hanta and Eijirou to decorate with fairy lights and flowers. His mother’s old engagement ring was what he’d nervously tucked away into his suit pocket earlier that evening; she’d given it to him the first time you met her — as if she just knew the outcome of your relationship. 

And yet, not even halfway through dinner he’d gotten a call about a villain spiraling out of control. 

He knew his apology was lacking when he pushed himself up from the table, telling you he’d be back as fast as he possibly could; and he could tell how disappointed you were at the fact he was leaving despite how you playfully urged him to hurry before you ate all the dessert without him.

He’d slipped the ring in his costume pocket thinking he would make it back in time for your walk in the park — but that went out the window the second he was caught off guard and blasted through an apartment building.

You shifted slightly, against your spot on the wall. Katsuki almost thought it was because he was thinking too loud.

Your eyes opened after a moment or two, and blinked once or twice at him before realizing his eyes were also open.

“You’re awake?” you asked groggily, scrubbing your eyes before pulling yourself up from the chair. “Let me go get the nurse–”

“S’fine,” he stopped you before you could get out the door, lifting his head off the pillow because he knew you would come over and scold him for it.

Shit he felt dizzy.

“Don’t move right now,” you chastised him — immediately abandoning your mission to rush back to his side and help him lay his head back down on the pillow. “Is that comfortable?”

“Yea,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Don’ get the nurse yet… I don’ really want more fuckin’ needles in my arm right now.”

“...fine.” You pressed your lips together, concealing the lecture he knew you wanted to spew: him never being careful when he promised he would be being main point among those you wanted to address — yet you pulled the hard, plastic chair you were sitting in up to the bed and leaned against the mattress.

“...do you feel dizzy?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a concussion from your fall,” you turned your head to look towards the side, and he couldn’t see your expression anymore in the dimmed light from the lamp next to his bedside. “You also broke your arm from landing on it.”

“You saw?”

“It was on the news.”

You sounded on the verge of tears. He needed to apologize. He’d ruined your night.

“M’sorry,” he let his left hand drift over to where yours was laying on the bed next to him, his fingers catching between your own — grabbing you out of your dazed attention — “M’sorry I ruined our night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything Katsuki,” you shook your head, but he could hear the little edge of pain in your voice. “It’s not your fault… I was just worried.”

“I did, though,” he continued. “Tonight was s’posed to be just us walkin’ through the park n’ getting ice cream.”

“You had it all planned out huh?” You finally faced him again, tired eyes and a small, sad smile on your lips. 

“F’course I did, would y’expect anythin’ less from me?” 

“Of course not,” you humored him, bringing his knuckles up to your lips before planting a kiss over a small scab and pressing your cheek against it — staring faraway, somewhere his mind could never find yours.

“Why didn’t you go home?” he rubbed his thumb against yours. “Could’ve changed and been comfortable.”

You let out a small huff — “I couldn’t just leave you here. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“You didn’t have to worry about me, baby. Y’should’ve slept comfortably at home, come and seen me in the morning.”

You didn’t answer; instead, pressed another kiss against his knuckles before letting his hand come back down to the bed.

“If you saw what I did, you wouldn’t be saying that.” — was all you left it at — you tried to get up to get the nurse, but he didn’t let your hand go. “Katsuki–”

“Just let me be a lil’ longer,” he slurred, drowsily. “Come lay down with me.”

“Kats–”

“Please.”

“How could I–”

“Please.” He repeated, and you gave up to the pleading look in his eyes. “Can’t sleep properly without you there.”

He shifted himself over slightly, watching you hold your tongue once again with a little snort, before patting at the spot next to him. You climbed up slowly, carefully, trying to be as light as possible to not let the little hospital bed creak under both your weights — letting yourself melt next to him, your hand resting over his chest. You didn’t say anything, just nestled yourself into his shoulder with a yawn.

Something about the way you were positioned made it feel like you were hesitant to touch him — as he was as fragile as glass. Even with your fingers resting over his abdomen, he barely felt them there.

“What’s got your mind all worked up?” he asked after what felt like hours of silence.

“...nothing.”

“I know when yer overthinkin’ baby.”

You looked up to him, sad eyes and all. “I was really worried.” You sniffed, burrowing yourself back next to him. “I was just sitting in the restaurant finishing my food until I got a notification on my phone about the news — and I clicked it and saw the video of you being blasted through the building. There was so much debris, I almost thought–I don’t know what I thought… It felt like I couldn’t breathe or–or think… I just ran out of there as fast as I could so I could get to the hospital. And then, when you wake up, your first concern is that you ruined the night?” You huff, angrily and under your breath but you didn’t let him see it. “I can’t believe you sometimes…” 

“M’sorry,” he repeated, this time drowsily— despite the disapproving click you let out in response, he wrapped his arm around you: rubbing small circles in your arm to soothe the tension you continued to let off. These situations were the only times you both switched roles; the only time he was the one who had to calm you down when usually it was the opposite.

“Stop saying that.”

“I am though,” he continued anyway. “For making you worry and cry when I should’ve been careful. I got a little reckless tryin’ to get back to you quickly. I just… didn’t wanna leave you stranded there.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” you almost scolded him. “I’m used to it, I understand what your job is like.”

“Told you though, I had it all planned out n’ shit — stupid bastard ruined it all…”

“It’s okay,” you pacified him. “It was just dinner, we can always go out another time.”

“It wasn’t just dinner though…” He stopped himself from continuing, but looking down at your furrowed brow knew that he’d have to give an explanation. 

“We’ve talked about marriage before—” he started again after a moment of silence. A moment to catch his breath, to let his racing thoughts and heart subside slightly. “—about us staying together like this because we couldn’t really ever see ourselves with anyone else.”

You nodded.

“And I thought–I knew that we were both ready… So I was gonna propose.”

You didn’t say anything, and he didn’t dare look down at your face — not when he could feel the heat rushing up to his face like he was about to pass out.

“I uh, had this whole speech planned out n’ everything,” he stared at the ceiling once more. “Even had Ei n’ Hanta set up flowers and candles in the park near that cherry blossom tree we always picnic near.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“M’sorry for just bringing it up now, and spoiling the surprise ‘cause I could’ve just done it later…”

“...are you really apologizing for telling me that you were going to propose?” you spoke after a moment. 

He could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he looked down to see that his suspicions were correct — you were crying.

“Don’ cry,” he tried to wipe them with fail because he could only use one arm. “You know I get sad when you cry.”

“I can’t help it.” 

 “I know that this isn’t where you probably expected to get proposed to, but everything I said is true — I wanna spend the rest of my life with you n’ get those little moments with you. N’ honestly, as long as we have that, I don’t think it matters where this shit happens.” He shifted around slightly, before you could stop him: sitting up to properly face you and pulling a little velvet box out from his pocket. “Marry me?”

“Of course I will,” you tried to wipe away your tears before falling into his embrace — pausing after he let out a hissing sound. “I’m calling the nurse for real now.”

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[stellar-skyy]

A SILENCE SO LOUD — Heizou x reader.

i. SUMMARY: After the accident, Heizou refuses to leave their hospital room. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Character death (reader), hospitals, probably medical inaccuracies, referenced car accident. iii. NOTES: Can be read as romantic or platonic, modern au, angst, hurt with no comfort, gn!reader, reader is referred to as heizou's partner (could be romantic or work partner) they/them pronouns used, 2.4k words. iv. A/N: Written for the amazing @dumbificat's inevitable evanescence event! I chose the prompt vanish. Please read the warnings before proceeding, please and thank you :)

The dull ring of a heart monitor echoed against the walls of the hospital room. 

One beep. Two. 

Heizou lounged in the chair beside the bed, tilted at just the right angle to observe the sleeping figure. It was a seat intended for guests to take up, but he'd been sitting in it almost as long as the person lying down had occupied their bed. His back twinged with pain every so often, however it was not enough to convince him to move.

He reached out and slipped a hand through the sheets to blindly locate theirs, pulling it out and giving it a squeeze. Maybe if they were awake, they would make a comment about how strange it was; holding hands with someone who was nowhere near conscious enough to feel his touch. He rubbed his thumb along their palm, tracing each line indenting their skin.

The few hours prior were agonizing. While they were stuck in surgery, the doctors managed to convince him to take a walk; get some fresh air that wasn't filled with the smell of disinfectant. Even following their advice, Heizou's thoughts drifted to their sleeping face. Every second since they were admitted, he was at their side watching them. His injuries were far less severe—a handful of cuts over his arms and an array of bruises. The staff felt enough pity to allow him to wait outside or in every room they were moved to, his eyes never leaving their closed ones.

Eventually they were settled here, attached to a variety of machines until their body was covered in tubes and wires. Every few seconds, the heart monitor would sound.

One beep. Two.

If they were awake, he would have been chastised for being so stubborn. They might roll their eyes, make a comment about him not taking care of himself. It was always them, who had to call him out on his borderline-unhealthy behaviours. Kujou Sara had tried, many times, admonishing him for skipping sleep in favour of working on whatever case his mind had fixated on. Hell, even Itto had managed to notice how he neglected eating some days to have more time to do things he decided were more important. However no one could get through to him like his partner could. A raised eyebrow, the slightest frown of disapproval, and he would already be moving from his chair to go take a nap.

But it wasn't like they could say anything. They hadn't managed to drag themselves into consciousness yet, not since the accident.

Heizou scoffed to himself. 'The accident' was still such a stupid way of describing it. That kind of melodramatic, cliched name would never have been his pick, but the concerned visitors that crowded the bed every few hours seemed dead-set on calling it such. It was always, 'I heard about the accident', always 'Are you okay after the accident, Heizou?'

That question was enough to make him fall into laughter, right there in the hospital room. A bewildered Kujou Sara had stared at him like he'd gone mad, while he doubled over in hysterics.

It was her fault for asking. Why should she bother to ask him if he is alright, when he was the one in the chair and they were the one hooked up to a heart monitor? He was alive, he would survive without half a dozen machines strapped to his body. He didn't have any right being asked if he was okay.

She had excused herself after that, while he swiped tears trickling down his cheeks (from such heavy laughter of course; there was no other cause.)

Shinobu was next to visit, which was a surprise to Heizou. A bigger surprise was how she seemed far more interested in speaking to him.

“I think you need to consider a plan, for just in case. Just... think about what you're going to do if–” She had said, being cut off immediately by Heizou's voice, three times louder than hers.

“If? If what? You do know they're going to survive, right? They've had surgery. They're stable. They're going to be fine.” Heizou leaned back in the chair as casually as he could, ignoring the pinpricks of pain the movement caused. “I don't concern myself with 'what ifs?'”

He was lying through his teeth.

What if was a constant thought in his mind, between the moments where he drifted through a dreamless sleep. What if I wasn't the one driving that day? What if I had gotten a few more hours of sleep that previous night? What if I looked to my left, and saw the headlights before they were too close to avoid?

“I know it's painful, Heizou.” Shinobu said softly. It was almost bewildering to hear. That girl was all sharp edges and blunt words, so the rare gentleness always caught him off guard. “But please, think practically about this. Okay?”

Riddles were a passion of his, but for once Heizou felt no desire to pick apart the meaning of her words; less out of not understanding, more out of a fear that he did.

“It wasn't your fault, Heizou.” Shinobu said. “Listen to me: it was not your fault.”

“Oh, yeah? How the hell would you know that?” Heizou scoffed, now moving his eyes from his partner's prone form. “You weren't in the car. Don't pretend you know what happened.”

“Heizou…” She began. “I know we aren't close, but I do consider us friends.” That caught him off guard slightly. When did that happen, he wondered. “And I don't want to see my friend destroy himself with guilt over an accident.”

The other reason why he ground his teeth together at the word accident, was the sheer amount of people assuring him it was just that. A tragedy, a freak crash, a terrible calamity that no one could have foreseen. It was a comfort, in their eyes.

In an accident, there is still at least two parties: the victim, and the perpetrator. His beloved partner fell into the former category. And Heizou–who wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, who had the radio blasting loud enough to drown out the sound of the motor rumbling closer and closer–knew for certain he was the latter.

It was almost funny, in a twisted, morbid way. Even in an accident, there was still someone at fault. It wasn't intentional, sure, but it was his hands gripping the steering wheel, and his foot on the brakes just a second too late.

They lapsed into silence. Shinobu stared at him in expectation.

“You should get going. Guest hours are finishing soon.” He managed to spit out.

That wasn't the right answer, if the crumpled up look behind her mask was any indication. He couldn't see her face, but he would bet his life there was a twitch of her lips, like she always did when she was displeased with the Arataki Gang. That sight was a privilege he had seen once, and once only, but it stuck with him more than any other memory they had shared.

“Goodbye, Heizou.” Shinobu said quietly. It was only after she left that he realized that she didn't look at [Name] once.

Heizou let go of their hand, watching it fall back on the bed limply, and folded his arms over his chest. A pang of hunger made itself known in his stomach, but he ignored it. Food could come later, but he was preoccupied at that moment.

When they woke up–and that was a when, not an if, he thought to himself–he would have to take them out for lunch. Treat them to a hot meal, on him. It was the least they deserved, after everything. In the meantime, all he could do was watch them get fed through a tube hooked on their face—a hideous, invasive-looking device. Heizou tore his eyes away from it, focusing back on the sound of the heart monitor.

One beep.

Heizou's breath caught sharply. His eyes darted over to see the machine, as the singular beep continued to sound. On the screen, the jagged pattern had smoothed out, into one clean, straight line.

An alarm began blasting sound outside of the room, a constant wailing that echoed throughout the ward.

“No…” He muttered under his breath. He slammed his fist against the screen, as if that would jolt it back into the steady pattern. His voice raised to almost a yell, fingers curling around the sides of the machine. “No! No, it’s not fair!”

Heizou stumbled backwards, hitting the wall with a thud. His vision had gone hazy, but he could see enough to awkwardly locate the emergency call button on the side of the wall. It let out a melodic chime, completely out of place among the blaring alarm ringing through the room.  

There was still no movement from the hallway, even with the alarm filling the ward. Almost tripping over his feet, Heizou closed the distance between him and the door to kick it open. His hands clung desperately to the doorway as he yelled down the corridor.

“Nurse! Nurse! Help, please–” Heizou made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, roughly swiping at his eyes to clear his eyesight. “Please, someone help! They’re–”

The siren was still wailing over the sound of his cries. It wasn't enough, there was no one there, and their heart still wasn't beating.

“Help!” He screamed, over and over until his voice was as raw as sandpaper. The world around him melted into a blurry haze, with the only distinct sensation being that torturous alarm and the sound of his own voice.

“—kanoin! Shikanoin! Please, calm down!”

The world snapped back into place like puzzle pieces fitting together. A nurse was in front of him: their primary nurse, if his memory was correct. She had one hand on his shoulder gripping tightly, as she continued to shout in his face.

“You have to leave. The doctors need to start the defibrillators, and we can’t have you getting in the way.” She said, loudly and firmly.

“Wha–No!” Heizou protested, ripping himself out of her hold, like her touch was fire.

“The doctors need space. Wait outside, we will speak to you soon.” The nurse insisted, making shooing motion with her hands. He was unceremoniously ushered into the hall, door slamming shut behind him.

There was a chair outside of the room; askew, like someone had knocked it into the pathway in their hurry. He dragged it over to the frosted windows, sitting on it backwards so he could press his face against them. The attempt was fruitless; the windows were impossible to see through, so he turned his back on the room and collapsed heavily in the chair.

No one had had bothered to turn the alarm off, so it continued: screeching, screeching...

A screech of tires; headlights flashing from his side. He looked over his partner and through their window in a panic, freezing at the lights like a deer in the middle of the road.

His foot twitched, but it was too late to hit the brakes now. All he registered was a blood-curling scream in his ear, tearing through his shock enough for him to realize what was about to happen.

Heizou flinched backwards, hitting his head on the window. Eyes blown wide, he gasped, clenching his fists until he felt his nails dig into his palms. The pinpricks of pain drew him back into the present.

Someone had the sense to finally turn off that alarm, so Heizou found himself in silence. That had to be a good sign, right? If something had gone wrong, they wouldn't have time to hit the stop button. They must have stabilized them while Heizou zoned out, and switched the alarm to off so the panicked atmosphere could quiet.

“Ah, Shikanoin.” A woman's voice; the nurse from earlier. Heizou forced a grin onto his face, hoping she didn't see the redness in his eyes.

“Nurse! How are they?”

“I'm sorry, Shikanoin.” She said gravely. Her voice faded to static after those words, while Heizou stared at her, mind completely blank.

Sorry could mean a lot of things. Sorry could be for the delay in attending to them, or for the distress that they caused him. Sorry could be referring to all of the trouble he was put through, or for how long they took to tell him they were alright and alive. Yes, it had to be that last one. He couldn't dream of any other possibility.

“Shikanoin? Are you listening to me?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry I zoned out for a sec. Silly me, huh?” Heizou chuckled hoarsely. The nurse's face softened, something dangerously similar to pity in her eyes.

“Ahem. I will repeat myself then. We attempted to resuscitate [Name] to the best of our abilities, however it seems their body has rejected the heart surgery. I'm afraid–”

“No!” He whispered under his breath. It was lost, among the discordant sounds of the hospital, drowned out by phantom wailing of alarms, footsteps pounding against tiles, and that damned beep singing in his head.

The quiet protest couldn't stop the next four words.

“They didn't make it.” The nurse bowed her head respectfully, but the gesture was hollow. She was already subtly gathering the papers in her clipboard, ready to move to the next patient. Perhaps some part of him felt kinship with it; that sort of dull desensitization was common amongst detectives too, particularly ones that dealt with death on a daily basis. He could almost see himself, quietly reassuring a victim's wife that he would do his best to solve the murder of her husband, before he methodically moved on to the next case that fell on top of his desk.

It was ironic then, that he found himself being the one comforted now.

“I'm sorry for your loss, Shikanoin.” Heizou couldn't bring himself to respond, still staring blankly at the nurse.

She exchanged some words with a doctor emerging from the room, before vanishing back through a door. Heizou's hands fell into his lap, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He wasn't crying anymore, he noticed absently. Some part of him knew the news would settle in soon and he would crumble. He was a building on the verge of collapse, waiting for a single frail breeze to send him crumbling.

The rest of the hospital was gone. All that was left was a single sound.

One beep. Constant, and echoing in his ears.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[shadowtriovibes]

pt. iii: sweat it out

pt. i: break a sweat || pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, fluff and smut, quidditch jersey porn, sexy massages, dirty talk, romanticizing doggy style

Summary: born of two requests: "what about sebastian fucking the reader while she's wearing his quidditch jersey. i can see him going feral when he sees his last name on her back" and "Maybe for Part 3, MC is giving Bash a much needed massage after all of his HARD quidditch practices and games… in nothing but his jersey."

Sebastian reluctantly turns over onto his stomach so that you can sit astride his hips. As soon as you rest your weight on top of him, he exhales tiredly as if he’s just set down a towering stack of books at the librarian’s desk – like he’s let go of a weight he hadn’t realized had slowly become so burdensome in his arms. "Relax," you murmur. "I've got you." Then he tilts his head to rest on his folded hands. You know he can’t quite see you at an angle this, but you still catch just a glimpse of his warm brown eyes before they flutter shut.

Climbing all the way up to the Room of Requirement after one of his weekend Quidditch practices must be excruciating for Sebastian, you think.

After practice, he’s usually sore just about everywhere – from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet he positively aches. Having seen him in action you know that he’ll often race upwards of a hundred kilometers on his broom simply doing laps around the pitch and tracking down the school’s enchanted practice Snitches.

To make matters worse, he’s forced to skip breakfast to be at the pitch by sun-up on strict orders from his captain, who goes on to keep the team well past eleven. Now he must be starving, but if you know your love, he’ll steadfastly ignore the temptation to go straight to the Great Hall for lunch and instead make the trek up to the seventh-floor corridor.

That’s precisely why you’re waiting for him there.

In the mornings when he has practice, you like to treat yourself to a bit of a lie-in and lazily wait around for his return so you can have lunch together. You would be happy to meet him downstairs when he returns to the castle, but lately, Anne and Ominis have protested whenever Sebastian joins the lunch table straight from practice still flushed, sweating, and covered in mud from the waist down.

(Those two have become exponentially more autocratic since they started courting.)

Thus, Sebastian usually decides to be a gentleman and change first.

In the months since the start of Quidditch season and Sebastian’s first overnight stay in the Room of Requirement, he’s slowly started bringing in his belongings until he’d effectively moved out of the dormitories and into a shared nest with you. Most of his clothes were there by now, along with his endless piles of library books and his cherished personal collection of secondhand novels from Tomes and Scrolls.

You assume he’ll probably want to quickly strip off his mucked-up robes and find something clean to change into so he can escort you downstairs for lunch. But despite the exhausting morning he must have already had, you don’t feel quite enough pity for your Sebastian to take it easy on him when he finally arrives.

When he enters the room, he finds you lounging on the bed reading one of his beloved Muggle novels – wearing nothing but one of his Quidditch jerseys.

“Sebastian!” you call out happily when you look up.

“Morning, love,” he answers as he shoves the heavy door closed.

“You’re finally free,” you joke, closing your book. “I thought I’d have to come down to the pitch soon and challenge Imelda to a duel to get her to set you loose.”

“I won’t mind seeing that,” he laughs. “That would have been quite chivalrous of you.”

He shrugs out of his Quidditch robes and pulls his own soaking-wet shirt up over his head. You watch longingly as his core flexes – all those hours on a broom have made him exceptionally well-defined, and you wish you could simply get on your knees right then and there to spend your morning tracing your tongue over every delineated band of muscle.

“You know,” he teases, pulling you from your reverie. “I had planned to just put on a clean shirt to go down to lunch, but it seems you’ve nicked my spare.”

“Did I?” you say, feigning innocence. “I just grabbed the first thing I could find, I swear.”

Sebastian glances at you skeptically before sitting down at what has become “his” desk to take off his boots. You frown when you catch him wincing while he bends at the waist.

“Are you hurt?” you ask him softly.

“No,” he insists. “Just sore all over.”

“Bash,” you croon. “Poor babe.”

“Come off it, I’m fine,” he laughs. “I just need some food and a nice long bath and I’ll be grand.”

You climb off the bed and saunter over to him in his chair, appreciating the way his eyes skim across the hem of his pilfered jersey. With every step, your hips sway and tease him with quick glimpses of the tops of your bare legs.

“Are you sure?” you ask sweetly. “Because if you’re feeling poorly, I can take care of you.”

Not even the promise of dry clothes and a warm meal could pull Sebastian’s attention from such a tempting offer, especially not while you’re wearing his clothes.

He sits back in his chair while you kneel in front of him to carefully unlace his Quidditch boots. After you take off his pads as well, it’s just too easy to climb onto his lap and wind your arms around his shoulders.

Sebastian’s gaze dips down to the space between your legs. He lays one palm flat against your thigh and uses his thumb to ruck up the hem of the jersey just a bit.

“You haven’t got anything on under this, do you?” he asks knowingly.

“Not a stitch,” you breathe.

Sebastian groans quietly and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you tightly against him.

“Leave it on,” he says in a low voice. “I want to see you in my jersey the entire time I’m taking you apart.”

“Not so fast, Sallow,” you counter. “Let me give you a massage first, it will help with the soreness.”

“A ‘massage?’” he asks hopefully.

When you merely raise an eyebrow at him, he looks simply crushed.

“You’re joking,” he says flatly. “You… you actually mean to ‘take care’ of me? In an actual ‘nurse-me-back-to-health’ sort of way?”

“I mean both the regular way and the devious way,” you laugh. “But if you’re aching right now, it’s not going to be much fun for you.”

“You are sincerely wrong about that,” he argues, but you’re undeterred.

“Let me do this first,” you bargain. “I promise you’ll feel better afterward.”

There’s a bit more whining and attempts to seduce you as you wriggle free of Sebastian’s lap and tug on his arm so he’ll walk over to the bed. He strips down to the garment layer he wears beneath his uniform pants and kindly allows you to shove him onto the bed.

He’s peering up at you expectantly, obviously hoping you’ll cave and climb onto his lap once again.

“Turn over, Sebastian,” you say with a fond eye roll. “On your stomach.”

“You’re malicious,” he gripes. “An evil, wicked sorceress.”

Sebastian reluctantly turns over onto his stomach so that you can sit astride his hips. As soon as you rest your weight on top of him, he exhales tiredly as if he’s just set down a towering stack of books at the librarian’s desk – like he’s let go of a weight he hadn’t realized had slowly become so burdensome in his arms.

“Relax,” you murmur. “I’ve got you.”

Then he tilts his head to rest on his folded hands. You know he can’t quite see you at an angle this, but you still catch just a glimpse of his warm brown eyes before they flutter shut.

Go on, he says without words. Touch me. I trust you.

You think you could just stay here all day with your hands on his slightly-chilly skin. Warming him up to your touch, you skim your hands across his firm shoulder blades, along the tops of his sun-kissed shoulders, and then down the solid expanse of aching muscle in his back. He’s so broad beneath you, you think, even on his stomach. Without his height to add to the imposing figure he usually cuts, he nevertheless looks perfectly capable of rolling you off of him should he desire.

Knowing that there’s very little he could desire less sends an excited shiver through you. It’s a privilege, getting to be gentle with a man like Sebastian.

After all, except for when his hands are on your body, Sebastian is anything but gentle. He’s headstrong, impulsive, and obstinately ungovernable when he knows he’s in the right. Physically, he’s grown into a body that matches.

You shouldn’t be surprised that despite playing as a Seeker, Sebastian is not the kind of athlete who relies on being lithe and quick on his broom. Whenever he finds himself in a dead heat for the Snitch, he routinely throws his whole body into a maneuver and hurdles himself into his opposing Seeker to knock them off their path.

He’s brutish on the pitch and offers no apologies for it, though he will extend a gentlemanly hand whenever he bests the other Seeker to their prize.

Worst of all is that he has no fear of mutually assured destruction. He wants to win, sure; but more importantly, he wants the other team to lose. If that means both he and his opponent must crash into the ground in a pile of torn sports robes and grass stains before being hauled up to the Hospital Wing by an exasperated Nurse Blainey, so be it.

(Needless to say, you aren’t the only one who calls him “Bash” anymore.)

You consider all this while you quietly work through some of the larger knots that have built up in the muscles of his back. His body has kept hold of a momentous amount of trauma over the years, and if you can help dissolve even a fraction of it with your hands, you’ll be overjoyed.

Carefully you splay the palms of your hands against his bare skin and concentrate hard on spreading warmth and relaxation through the striations of Sebastian’s muscles. You visualize your magic wrapping through the infinitely small tears and bruises he’s endured to diffuse a relief that emanates a warm, pinkish glow you can genuinely see.

“What’s happening?” Sebastian asks, his voice slurred.

“How do you feel?” you whisper.

“Incredible,” he breathes. “Are you…? Is this magic that you’re doing? Ancient magic?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” you admit softly. “Regular magic, ancient magic… It’s probably a bit of both.”

“How did you–?” Sebastian asks before trailing off in a lazy, satisfied moan. “Merlin, it feels good.”

“Anne’s been showing me some of the healing magic she’s been studying with Nurse Blainey,” you say softly. “It’s actually quite interesting, Anne is quite talented with–”

“No more talking about Anne for a little while, love,” Sebastian grits out. “Just – just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. Please.”

You giggle softly while you slide your hands down further to the base of his spine, where you know for a fact he carries an unjust amount of tension. It’s precisely there that he stores his worries about upcoming N.E.W.T. exams, his all-important role on the Quidditch team, and the pressure he puts on himself to succeed so he can take care of Anne once you all graduate – you too, now, even though you insist you’ll be equals in every way possible.

“Feeling a bit better?” you ask him hopefully.

“Can’t remember the last time I felt this good,” he mumbles. “You should be a Healer.”

“I don’t know about that,” you demur. “I rather like the idea of only doing this for you.”

Sebastian’s soft groan sounds like one of assent.

You channel magic through him for a few more moments until you notice that he finally feels less inflamed beneath your fingertips. Then you let the glow fade away until it’s just you and Sebastian, no more magic thrumming between where your bodies touch.

He’s quiet for several long moments and you wonder whether you might have simply magicked him to sleep.

“Bash?” you whisper. “Are you alright?”

All of a sudden, he’s remarkably alive beneath you. He cants one hip to tip you off of his back and onto the bed beside him, earning an annoyed huff out of you when you land on your rear. But before you can put the words together to protest, he’s parting your legs with his hands so he can settle between them and rucking up the jersey until he can see your bare core.

“You’re incredible,” he tells you earnestly. “I feel better than I have in months, love.”

“Th-that’s good,” you stutter, a bit bewildered.

He continues, “And I’m going to return the favor right this minute.”

You barely have time to blink before he’s kissing you breathless and rocking his hips against yours. You gasp sharply into his mouth and he swallows the sound, pressing his tongue against yours in that filthy way that he knows gets you soaking for him every single time he does it.

“Bash,” you whine. “Slow down a little.”

“Not a chance,” he says against your neck. “I want you, you made me need you.”

…Merlin, did you?

You try to focus while Sebastian stretches out the collar of his own jersey to suck claiming bruises along your collarbone. Did you overdo it on the healing spell? Possibly imbue him with a little too much “love?”

But then he confesses, “You’re irresistible in my clothes like this, d’you know that?”

You breathe a sigh of relief when you realize that that’s what’s got him so worked up. It’s you in his colors, his rumpled clothing with his damn name emblazoned on your back.

That quickly gives you an idea.

“Let me turn over,” you grunt as you try to squirm out from underneath him. “Sebastian, please.”

He looks thoroughly displeased when you sit up, so you placate him with one more filthy kiss before he won’t have access to your mouth for a while. Then you settle on your elbows and knees, jersey shoved up to the middle of your waist.

Sebastian says some foul words under his breath when he sees you arch and present yourself for him. You wish he’d just bury himself in you, patience and preparation be damned. Together the two of you have discovered that there’s a time and a place for slow, intimate lovemaking just as much as there is for desperate, urgent, feral fucking.

You know which one Sebastian is craving.

“Take me like this, Bash,” you say breathlessly. “So you can see whose name I carry.”

He leans over you and drags his hand across the “SALLOW” stitched in thick, white letters across the broadest part of the jersey’s shoulders. Then he lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a growl as he grinds his hips against yours.

“I need to be inside you,” he grunts. Behind you, you can hear him shoving his base layer down his thighs before he drags two fingertips along your slit and uses your wetness to stroke his cock. “I can’t be patient.”

“Don’t be,” you insist. You sway your hips invitingly and arch your back. “I’m ready.”

“You need my fingers,” he tells you. “I’ll give you enough, I won’t hurt you.”

You stun him by reaching a hand back and showing him how you can press two fingers against your entrance that easily sink inside. You moan softly at how different the angle is from how you usually touch yourself, but it works to get the point across to Sebastian.

“I’m ready,” you repeat. “I was waiting for you.”

Sebastian traces a thumb along your slit beside your fingers, pulling you open a bit to let himself look his fill as you spread your wetness around wantonly.

“Is this what you were doing while I was at practice?” he asks. “Laying in this bed in my clothes, playing with your pussy, and thinking of what I’d do to you when I got back?”

Now that’s a word he most certainly picked up from those Muggle books he likes to read, but it makes you squirm desperately nonetheless.

“Yes,” you whimper. “B-but I waited for you to finish.”

“That’s a shame,” he murmurs. “I suppose I’ll have to make sure you’re properly seen to, since you’ve been waiting so long.”

He presses his thumb against your entrance with your two fingers and when you can easily take it inside as well, he decides you’re indeed plenty ready for his cock instead. His gentle hand on your wrist coaxes you into pulling out, and then he lines himself up and starts to press inside.

You whimper his name as you collapse onto your elbows. He feels impossibly big like this, and despite your insistence that you were ready for him, it’s a toe-curling kind of stretch that has you panting and trembling beneath him while your body alternates between its animal instincts to rear back or submit.

“Good, you take me so well, love,” he groans. “How do you feel?”

In answer, you loudly groan into the pillow you’ve bunched up beneath you.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself,” he says smugly. “Hold on tight for me, alright?”

After a few easy thrusts to ensure you’re properly braced for the full weight of him, Sebastian starts to relentlessly pound you down into the mattress. He supports you with his forearm wrapped beneath your hips and one broad hand pressing into your back – right below where his name is inscribed.

You’re fiercely loud in bed with him, but even when you’re whining and nearly sobbing for him, you can’t drown out the sound of his foul mouth.

“Take this cock,” he grunts. “Take it all, it’s what you wanted, right? For me to fill you up?”

“Yes!” you wail, knowing he expects an answer.

“That’s right,” he growls. “You want it all, I’ll give it all to you, always.”

He leans over your back and grinds in deep and you feel a twinge that isn’t entirely pleasure, but you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop – it’s too good, especially when it’s straddling the line of being too much.

“I’m gonna give you everything,” he confesses into your ear. “My seed, my name on your back, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Give it to me,” you slur. “Go on, Bash.”

“I will love, I will,” he grunts. “But I’m finishing you first.”

He keeps murmuring filth into your ear while he works a hand underneath you to rub quick, firm circles against your clit the way he knows you like. He talks about how sweet you are for him, how you’re the best thing he has, how he wants to keep you right here for as long as you’ll let him, but whether he means in this bed or in his arms you can’t possibly know.

He deftly works you to a breathtaking climax – quite literally you lose your breath, and he just keeps drawing it out with his eager fingers and his cock buried deep in you for so long that you wonder when it will ever stop. When it finally relents, you rest your cheek against the pillow and lie boneless, content to let Sebastian hold your hips up so he can work himself toward his finish.

“Want you to keep it all inside,” he says mindlessly. “Keep it in, keep my jersey on too, fuck–”

When he spills in you, he grinds his sensitive cock against your hips for as long as he can take it to make sure you stay full of his spend. Then when he pulls out, he tucks that damn jersey back down over your ass as if to make the claim, Our work here is done.

You lay exhausted on your stomach while Sebastian cozies up behind you. Within minutes of catching your breaths his stomach growls, so you know you won’t be there for much longer, but neither of you seems to be in any hurry to untangle yourself from the other.

Eventually, you have to ask him, “...So, ‘my name on your back,’ hmm?”

You expect him to blush and stammer, or start talking about how maybe, someday, when he feels like he’s satisfied some sort of redemptive goal that will make him feel like he deserves it, that could be a reality.

Instead, he kisses behind the hinge of your jaw and murmurs, “I meant it. Whenever you want it, it’s yours. Just say the word.”

“Fine, but if I get the name, I get to keep the jersey,” you sigh.

He buries his nose in your hair and happily mumbles, “I think we’ll have to negotiate that one.”

[weskin-time]

Theres Only One Bed...

Albert Wesker x GN!Reader

if you saw this post before no you didnt <3

Count- 3963 words

Summary- Youre a spy for STARS about to go on a mission, but this mission is also your yearly assessment where your captain tags along to judge your work on the field. Getting to the hotel was easy, but they only have one room open, and theres only one bed.

CW- GN reader so there is mention of 'Mx' being used for the reader

No description is used for the reader so have fun! This is the first fic ive posted on tumblr! reblogs and feedback is always nice thank you!

Undercover missions were always your favorite. Getting a new name, cover, identity, it was so fun in a weird way. Being able to melt yourself into a new persona at the drop of a hat was always a talent of yours, something your high school theater teacher highly praised. If there was information needed, you were the spy to be sent before the STARS team would swoop in and deal with the issues.

Currently you were on an assignment, an easy one, just a simple gaining intel then book it kind of ordeal. There was one downside to this assignment though, this was also your yearly work assessment, where your captain would tag along either in the shadows on coms or with you in person to see how you are on the field. You've never failed an assessment before but to have captain Wesker listen in, breathe down your neck, or just be near you when you were working, freaked you out a bit, what if you messed up and it costed you your job? It never did though, and any minor slip up you had would be easily fixed in a heartbeat by you. You were a professional hired onto STARS for this exact role, and you were proud of what you did.

Wesker was to meet you at your currently temporary base of operations, which was a semi small hotel not too far away from where you would be working tomorrow, so you weren’t surprised when you pulled your car into the parking lot to see a completely sleek black unmarked van in the parking lot with your captain, in regular civilian clothes, leaning against the van waiting for you.

It was weird to see him in every day wear, in fact it felt almost wrong, naked even. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up at his elbows, black dress pants, a watch on his wrist, and a black belt with a silver buckle tying his outfit together. Even as the day starting to fade into dusk, he still adored his sunglasses, which you were thankful for, he was already in civilian clothes it would be alien for him to not have his glasses too.

You pull into the parking spot next to him on the side where he’s leaning making sure to leave some room for him and you to get out of the car. A thought crossed your mind that if you feel like it’s weird to see him out of his uniform maybe he had the same feeling about you, sometimes you did feel weird when you weren’t wearing your uniform honestly. Putting the car in park and turning the key, you got out of the car and closed the door behind you gently. Wesker glanced up at you when you exited, his arms crossed.

My gods he looked amazing like this. There’s no shame in thinking someone is attractive and Wesker was very attractive. You looked him up and down once, trying to be subtle and not draw attention to the fact you’re checking out your boss. Your eyes were mostly drawn to his arms, the way his shirt hugged his muscles, the way the watch rested on his wrist, even at the angle he crossed his arms you could still see the veins that rose on his skin. The watch was just a nice silver with a black leather strap, and my gods did it make his hands look attractive.

You dragged your eyes off him and looked him in his eyes from behind his glasses, nodded at him, “Captain Wesker.” you greeted.

He nodded back at you greeted you in return by calling your last name. Hard to take the military out of a man you guessed.

There was little small talk about the mission and you both grabbed your bags from your respective cars before heading into the hotel lobby.

The lobby was cold as you walked in, and you took a in a deep breath, man you loved the way hotels smelled. There was a lady at the front desk who looked up your way when the sliding doors opened, she looked tired. Dragging your suitcase behind you with Wesker carrying a duffel bag, the two of you walked over to her and politely smiled.

“Good evening!” she slightly bowed her head in a polite greeting, “How can I help you two?”

“Hello,” you stood your suitcase up next to you as you leaned on the counter. “We would like to book a room please.”

“You’re just in luck, we have one last room available.” She typed something on her keyboard before confirming one room was okay, that the stay would only be for two nights, you signed some papers with your fake name and paid in cash, she told you about the pool hours and breakfast times.

“Alrighty Mx. and Mr. Doe, your room is on the top floor, the elevators are to the left of you. Y’all have a great night!” She slid two keys on the desk to you.

You grabbed the keys before you even registered what she said. Instantly you were flustered, jaw dropped slightly like a fish, before you straightened yourself out and thanked her before grabbing your suitcase and turning away. Your brain was on fire and you felt heat rise from your chest to your neck enveloping your face, your cheeks felt warm but you had to swallow it down.

Passing your boss on your way to the elevators you noticed a small amused smirk on his face. “Yes, let’s go, dear.” He turned his attention to you and began to follow after you. Any notion of any training left your brain for a second, was he teasing you or was he helping solidify y’all’s cover? You wanted to rip that smirk off his face, it made your heart flutter and made your stomach feel like it was in your throat. It was a suffocating feeling that you never really liked all too much, but you had to stop your brain to be able to calm your nerves.

Dear. The way it fell off his lips. The gravel of his voice saying the word, directed at you, rather convincingly that you were his spouse was enough to make your head fuzzy. He called you dear. It made your skin turn to flame, if you thought just being mistaken for being married was bad enough this was the one thing to kill you. He said it like he’s called you by this pet name a thousand times, it fell so easily off his lips, like it was your second name. Wesker must have been good at having a fake identity because there was no way he could say such a simple little phrase and make it sound so earnest.

The way to the room was a blur to you honestly, you were so busy trying to not think of his damn smirk, how he called you dear, and the woman mistaking you for being married, that you didn’t really pay attention to your surroundings. The elevator ride up was short but suffocating. You wanted to just get into your room and lay on your bed and sleep. You wanted to lay in the uncomfortable mattress and sleep until your alarm goes off to get ready for the intel snag. You didn’t want to wake up in the morning and get dressed and ready to be spied on while you spied on some illegal activity. The hallway was long and kind of creepy, the silence between you and Wesker was not uncomfortable but also not completely comforting, just the feeling of being in the break room not wanting to talk to each other. You arrived at your door and unlocked it, pushing the door open and lugging your suitcase in, moving out of the way to let your boss walk through first into the room. He made his way past the bathroom and into the main bedroom area as you closed the door and stood your suitcase by the closet.

“Hey captain, did you by chance bring any fingerprint powder? I have a small bit left.” You spoke up for the first time, rummaging through the front pocket of your case looking for said powder. There was a pregnant pause, Wesker hadn’t said anything which caused you to look to him. He stood facing away from you at the end of the small hallway, the wall blocking you from seeing what he was looking at.

“Wesker?” You cocked your head.

He let out an amused scoff as if he was broken from a trance, “Well. She definitely did think we were a couple.”

Your heart sunk and you hoped what he implied wasn’t true, standing up you made your way on over to him to see what he was seeing, and to your embarrassment only one bed was in the room, no couch, no nothing. Just the bed. The one single bed. The one single king-sized bed neatly made up. Wesker turned to look down at you and you glanced up at him. That damn faint smirk was on his face again, you wanted to tear off his sunglasses so you could tell what he was thinking and feeling. You think you can see a slight pink color on his cheeks but you can’t tell complete in the dark room.

You snapped out of it, “I’m so sorry Wesker, I’ll go down there right now and ask for another room for you, normally they give me two beds, she didn’t even ask me if I wanted two beds. And then she thought we were married so she must have thought we wanted one bed. I’m so sorry captain I’ll go down and have this fixed right away.” you were rambling in your embarrassment under Wesker’s gaze. You felt like you were a rookie again handing in the wrong files of paper work for your first assignment, you had a fear in the back of your head that this would get you fired for this, even if you knew you weren’t.

“She said this was the last open room if i recall correctly.” He stopped you from your rambling. You were so confident and flustered that you forgot what she had said. There was no other room for you to get changed out for, this was the only room.

“You’re right, sorry sir. I must have forgotten what she said.” You straighten out and reach to turn on the lights in the room.

There was a sigh as Wesker moved to put his stuff down on one end of the room, “There is no need to be formal, your assessment doesn’t start until the morning.”

“What about sleeping situations?” It’s better to get the question out now before it eats at you.

He paused for a second, he was facing away from you again as he opened his bag looking for something, “hmm.” he pondered for a second. “Shifts. You sleep first, then I will wake you up, take turns.”

“No offense Wesker,” you took a quick glance at his ass in the tight pants he wore. “But I’m not about to have you tired and judge my performance on the field.”

He gave a single light breath of a chuckle, “Oh? Don’t want to get a low score?”

“I don’t want to get pay docked because you’ve ended up sleeping on the job.” you follow with a laugh. The tense air broke and you were back to how you normally were with Wesker. Banter was rare with him, but when the two do you were alone you did enjoy it from time to time.

“Alright then, what else do you have in mind? We can’t get another room and if you haven’t noticed, there is only one bed and two of us.” He turned to face you and asked.

Your confidence faltered, there was only one other way that you could think of and here he was wanting you to say it. The warmth returned to your face again as you looked away as he turned around to face you. He was setting you up to say it. He wanted you to say it as if he loved to see you flounder. You watched him as he took his sunglasses off and placed them on the desk in the room, his eyes never left your face as you looked away yet again not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“Well, I mean, if you don’t have a problem with it.” Your voice didn’t waver yet your mind did. It was freaking out and screaming. We’re you really about to suggest sleeping in the same bed as you really hot boss that already made your stomach flip just by your fingers touching as you handed him a coffee cup in the break room? It was the only solution, and honestly you weren’t too opposed on the idea. You took a deep breath and tried to make the next sentence you would say sound better than the jumbled flustered mess that your brain wanted to say.

“We could share the bed? It’s a king size so there’s more than enough room.” Instantly your face was hot. “We could even build a pillow barrier if you’re uncomfortable with the idea.” You added in a haze.

It was quiet for a moment. Wesker was thinking, you took a quick glance at him to see his eyes still on you, observing you. He was watching you squirm under his gaze at the mention of sleeping together. There was a glint in his eye that you didn’t know the emotion of but there was something there, almost as if he enjoyed dragging out the silence after your awkward question just to make you more embarrassed and uncomfortable. You locked eyes for a second before you glanced them down. It felt like a few minutes have passed of drowning in embarrassment, your heart mirroring a stampede in your chest. It felt forever but it was more like half a minute has passed before he took a breath in to respond.

“Hmm.” he mulled over it, as if trying to taste how his answer felt on his palate before answering. “It is our only option so it would seem.”

His answer didn’t really help your heart at all. The tension in your body both doubled and dissipated at the same time somehow. The question was asked and answered but now you had to actually sleep in the same bed as your boss. You wanted to escape the feeling. To be freed from the twisting feeling in your guts, but it wouldn’t end until you woke up the next morning, wake up to him in the morning. Your face was hot and your body was a flame, butterflies and moths made nests in your lungs and stomach as they flew around inside you, you felt like you were going to explode. So much for a being a seasoned spy who could change at the drop of a dime, it was easier when you were pretending to be someone else, but playing as yourself was a different story.

“Yeah, I’m sorry captain, I should have planned this out better.” you gave him no time to respond before you jumped topics, “I’m going to get my stuff ready for tomorrow and get in the shower before heading to bed for the night.” you explained as you moved to the hallway once more to grab your luggage to drag it into the bathroom with you.

He agreed and explained he would set up his post for tomorrow as well and head to sleep, you hoped he would be asleep before you got out of the shower. Setting up your costume and such wasn’t hard, just setting the outfit out along with a wig and some makeup, it was some work to be a new person but an easy set up the process wasn’t so much. The shower was also uneventful. Using all the provided soaps and such, thinking about the mission tomorrow, you tried your damndest to not think about the man outside the bathroom setting up for bed, what would he wear? What does captain Albert Wesker wear to bed? You mused yourself over the idea of him wearing a funny nightgown and cap like Scrooge wore even including the hand-held candle, funny white long johns, before your mind settled on him wearing just sweatpants. Sweatpants with his boxer band showing. Grey sweatpants. No shirt. You were going to melt in the shower and it wasn’t because of the hot water, you were now slowly killing yourself by imagining your boss in different outfits. Black tight spouse beater with grey sweatpants, a loose white tee with boxers; but your personal favorite to fantasize about was him shirtless with grey sweatpants, his watch still on his wrist as his hands were in his pockets, you imagined him to have a blonde happy trail on his stomach and that sent you to turn the hot water to cold. You almost screamed as it woke your body out of the trance it was in.

Getting out was the hard part. Knowing you had to face your boss in bed was worse than anything you’ve seen in your time on STARS, and you’ve seen some things. You took a deep breath while drying yourself off, focusing on keeping your heart down and your breathing calm as you dressed for bed. You gave yourself a little shake before you opened the door and turned off the light making your way to the main bedroom.

The room was dark, a dim light came from a lamp in the corner of the room on the desk but it did next to nothing to illuminate the bedroom. There was a microphone, a computer, and a few other things set up on the desk, you assumed the camera and ear piece were for you for your mission in the morning. You took a hesitant glance at the bed only to find your boss facing away from you sleeping on his side. The covers were pulled up to his waist and only revealed the black undershirt he wore. Honestly you were a little sad he wasn’t shirtless but you also know that you would die if you saw his back muscles and shoulder blades. A weight fell off your shoulders at knowing you didn’t have to converse with him before slipping into the bed, you could just do it right now. Making your way to the other side of the bed you glanced at the clock that read 9pm.

You tried your hardest to not move so much as you got under the covers, waking the sleeping captain next to you wasn’t something you wanted to do so you lay there stiff. You could feel him next to you, feel his heat, the way the bed dipped under his weight, it drove you a bit mad. Here you were, lying next to your very attractive boss in the same bed, he was lucky he could fall asleep in a situation like this, your mind just raced with thoughts, thoughts of him. You couldn’t even relax in this bed; it was calling for you to untense your muscles and let sleep take you but just being able to hear Wesker’s soft breathing next to you kept your eyes open and your body rigged. You could feel his warmth from under the covers that the two of you shared, you could hear his soft breathing, you could feel the slight rise and fall of the blanket, it was intoxicating.

You couldn’t sleep. Glancing at the clock you find about forty-five minutes have passed with you just lying there with your eyes open. You sigh and wiggle a bit to try and get comfy but you instantly regret it. Wesker let out a small yawn as he pulled the comforter off him to twist around to lay on his other side, to face you. It all happened so fast you didn’t even notice what was happening. You watch as the very much asleep Wesker reaches his arm and wraps it around your midsection to pull you close to him, meeting in the middle of the bed, he used his other arm to slide under your head and used his hand to cradle your head, pushing your face into his chest, instantly your arms fold in between the two of you, pressed up against his stomach and your chest.

He’s,,, He’s asleep, but here you are, the new teddy bear for Albert Wesker. Youre tense in his arms as you both still, your eyes wide and you try not to move to not wake him up. There’s a pause before he moves again, mixing his legs with yours, which somehow pulls you even more flush against him. Your red-hot face was smushed against his chest where you could hear him breathing and his heart beating. He held you in a loose yet vice grip, the arm around your waist felt like it was burning. The fire of your face came back but this time worse and it swarmed your entire body in a flush.

If you thought today was already enough to make you die instantly this was the kicker, the real nail in the coffin. Your boss was now cuddling with you, something you didn’t think he could do with his hard and stone cold deminer, but with the way his legs were intertwined with yours makes you think it’s a perfect fit. If you were a computer this was how you bluescreened. You were somehow stiffer in his arms than you ever have been in your entire life, your senses were overloading. You could smell the body wash and cologne he wore, it smelled of apple cider and pine, like a autumn mix with a hint of spring, it smelled expensive and warm and nothing like what Chris or Barry wore. It made your head spin in the best way. You could feel his skin pressed against yours, soft and warm, you wanted to drag your fingertips across it in gentle patterns. Your heart sounded like a stampede in your chest. You could hear his gentle breathing and heartbeat, slow, soothing, and comforting.

You focused on his breathing, and soon began to match it. If you were stuck in this situation you were going to take full advantage of it and deal with the repercussions of your actions later, right now you wanted to be a little selfish, you wanted to enjoy this accidental moment to the full extent. Your body began to slowly relax in his arms, the sound of his heart comforting in ways you never knew existed. Your eyelids soon began to burn and droop, they begged you to close them, to make friends with sleep, every time you blinked, they drooped lower and lower. You took a risk and shifted in his arms, snuggling closer to his chest you made yourself more comfortable, moving your head so it was just under his chin and resting on his chest. You complied with your body and closed your eyes, it wasn’t long before sleep came to take you, but as you were right at the cusp of unconsciousness you felt something soft press against your forehead. You could hear something being said but it was muffled and sounded like it was underwater, the only word you could make out was 'dear', at least you think that was what was said, but by the time you realized it you were already asleep in the arms of the man you have feelings for.

[nubsdolls]

caution!,, this is just a wip, this is also my first time writing on here so please be gentle and lmk what i can improve on!! no name (as of yet) for this.. no smut in this fic, maybe just a teaser? maybe ill post who knows.. enjoy!

how did you end up in this position? seated on your bestfriends lap? agressive and practically primal against eachother, almost starved of touch.

you had only been bit a few months back, thus, leading to your entry of the spider society. upon entry, you were introduced to hobie. ever since then, you've been attached at the hip.

he would occasionally swing by your universe, slip through your window, invite you to his shows, hang out, all the usual bestfriend things. and yeah, maybe sometimes you guys got a little flirty or touchy but it was all playful, it never went beyond that.

however, you always had this weird, feeling about him, weird like how sometimes his piercings glistened so perfectly, how when the lights hit his eyes at the right angle, he glowed like an angel.

he might as well had been an angel sent just for you, spikes and studs intruded his outfits, chains and buttons on his vests, his hair sorted into wicks, it all seemed to compliment his personality so well, like the perfect contrast between sweet and rebellious, an anarchist. it never mattered what people whispered and gossiped about, in your eyes, he was an angel.

ding! one new notification.

you turned over, reaching for your phone on your nightstand and unlocking it, one new message from hobie.

h: unlock the window dove

you rolled your eyes playfully, stretching and getting up to unlock the window, opening it. the cool breeze entering your apartment, but no hobie.

you felt a tap on your shoulder as you jump back, turning only to face a snickering hobie, mask being hooked up on his nose, he slipped inside as you playfully punched him in the shoulder.craning your neck up to look at him.

"dickhead." you scoffed jokingly before walking back over to your bed. "oh cmon, was only a lil scare." taking off his mask and throwing it somewhere across your dorm, taking his boots and vest off before hopping next to you in bed.

he started to rant about his day, leaned back on your bed and relaxed, you were half listening, half admiring him, his shirt half lifted, his happy trail and v-line prominent, his belly piercing perfectly gleaming in the light. not being able to help as your mind wanders, biting your tongue and picking at your lip, teeth grinding against the inside of your mouth, all the thoughts your having basically driving you crazy, you shift and switch positions, trying to just focus on his day, but you can't.

the thoughts are almost louder than his voice, almost.

"dove? you 'ere wit' me?"

again,, so sorry if this was kinda goofy ive nvr posted on here before so im still working everything outt!

[choccy-milky]

omg hi ive been following u bc i love ur comics but i did'nt realise that you have a fanfiction?? and that its rlly big on ao3. i thought u were just a tumblr comic creatorrr. anyway im gonna go and read it now but i love clora so muchhhhh!! <3

thank u for ur committment!!

BAHAHA my brainrot cannot be satisfied with just fanart or fanfic I NEED TO DO BOTH🤪🤪thats so funny tho LOL but THANK YOU!! AND I HOPE U LIKE IT💖💖🙏

THANK YOU!! AND SOON!! im writing as we speak, and i just decided what i want the drawing for this chapter to be and quickly drew it using my laptop trackpad before i forget LMFAO

look at this masterpiece???like😍😍😍heres your sneak peek for next chap!!

LMFAO AND HES NOT EVEN THE FIRST IVE HAD MANY PPL TELL ME THIS, clora will never escape the clorox allegations😩

IMMA BE REAL ITS LIKE 50/50. in my headcanon, seb was never the type to really want children/care about children. like if he never met clora i imagine him just graduating and becoming a curse-breaker or auror and going off on his own. but since meeting clora its like damn.....i do want kids with u.....i think #1 for him would be out of a desire to have clora be his full ass wife and have everything with her that comes with that (ie children) and warming up to the idea more, and then ofc once he actually sees the kid born ITS OVER (i also have it planned that their first kid is gonna be a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes so like......a little mini clora. sebs doomed����hes gonna spoil her so bad🥺🥺)

AW TYYY💖💖im glad you like how i draw him🥹 and ikr i need to draw older seb more, bc i am a slut for seb in that trenchcoat and black gloves🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️actually wait while we're on the topic of my curse-breaker comic, i forgot about this LMAOO. I NEEDED REFERENCE PICTURES OF SEBS POSE so i put on a coat and similar shoes and forced my roommate to take pictures of me (she was very confused but also very supportive) i was like "i need you to take a picture of me on all fours from multiple angles. AND ITS NOT FOR SMUT I SWEAR" LMAO (i still dont think she believed me)

im dead it looks like im in the depressed anime pose bc theres no choccy milky in the fridge or something😩😩

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for inviting my cousin to an LGBT meet up?

Cw: mentions of suicide and transphobia

I (18M) am a trans man and my cousin N (21F) is a lesbian who is very masc presenting. We're the only queer cousins in the family (at least in our generation) so weve always been good friends and shes been one of the biggest supporters of my transition, defended me from bigoted family members and always corrected family when they used my deadname/old pronouns. I lowkey hoped she would come out as a trans man or nonbinary as well. We dress in the same style which makes it so when were hanging out together one of us is gonna get misgendered since people asume both of us are trans men or masc girls. When N is the one being misgendered she doesnt bother fighting it since its more trouble than its worth but looking back i think it really annoyed her.

Earlier this year N was severely struggling with her mental health. I apologize for the wording i may have since i dont know the proper terminology for this stuff or any specific disorder diagnosis she may have (other than autism). She was having some sort of manic or depressive episode. She was dead set on pushing people away and making them hate her so she could take her own life without regrets.

I visited N once to give her my support during a struggling time but i stupidly told her there was nothing she could say that would push me away. She told me not to test her but i kept pushing it and i admit what happened next was my fault. She told me in a very cold voice that she was a terf, though that she didnt want me dead but that "we" (im guessing she meant trans ppl) made it so much harder for her to exist(???????). I didnt let her keep talking just and left her room, said my goodbyes to her family and just cried while driving home.

Im still not sure if she meant it or if it was part of her mental episode and just a way for her to hurt me and push me away. On one hand ig it explains some of her behavior? N sometimes complained when she got asked for her pronouns or being misgendered like I mentioned before. On the other hand, I gen do not believe she has been a terf all along esp with how supportive shes been of me. If she was a terf youd think she would try to subtly talk me out of it, but that has never happened. My friends have nicknamed her schrodinger's terf lol

Anyway, i went no contact with N for a few months for my own wellbeing. During this time i heard that she tried to kill herself a few times, which got her into a mental hospital. She was given higher doses of meds and seems to be doing way better.

We had a family reunion this week and i decided to approach her. N seemed a little hesitant to talk to me but stayed polite. I tried testing her and talked about the effects T has been having on me but she acted like she always had and congratulated me and even complimented me on how deep my voice has gotten. I wasnt satisfied cause i wanted an apology for what she had said to me so i pushed it more. She did end up apologzing but it was a very surface level apology. At this point i didnt want to keep pushing in case it set her off again so i just took her apology (plus i wanted my best cousin back) and spent the rest of the day hanging out with her.

On the way home my mom said she was happy me and N had made up and that i should invite her to the lgbt club meetings Ive been going to this year. It seemed like a good idea to me, she lost a few friends during her episode and she could make more queer friends here. If N is trans and just in denial it could help her get the resources she needs to feel comfortable coning out. If N IS a terf maybe having more positive interactions with trans ppl could change her mind on it. Overall i thought it would be a win for her.

I brought it up to my friends and some of them blew up at me. Their argument was that itd be exposing the other trans ppl in the group to a terf and putting them in danger. I truly hadnt considered this angle so im kinda conflicted now. She had never felt like an unsafe person before and now that her episode is over she feels normal again. Even if she is a terf i dont think she could actually cause harm? I want N to get better but i dont want to put my trans friends at risk.

So tumblr, WIBTA for inviting N to my lgbt meet up?

What are these acronyms?

[dckweed]

here's part two of jake and babygirl, i'm actually really really in love with them and it may or may not be because i constantly have baby fever. anyway, im thinking about making this a fun lil series that you guys can send in any prompts or requests for that come to mind ! silly, angsty, fluffy whatever doesn't matter, just figured that since this started off as a request that i could continue on its life that way as well..

i want to be completely honest with you guys, for the past two months now i have been in eating disorder treatment 3 hours a day 6 days a week..as of this week, ive been stepped down to 3 hours a day 4 days a week and will be completely stepping down from treatment by the end of the month..this has taken up alot of time, and alot of attention and typically by the time my day is over i am completely spent and mentally drained and haven't been putting much effort into you guys, but as part of my treatment i am going to start posting at least twice a week (if not every day) as a way of self care, because fic writing is genuinely a form of self care for me.

thank you for being patient with me, and please feel free to send in asks!

warnings: pregnancy! jake being completely soft for his babygirl but also being completely angered by her situation..morning sickness mentions, food aversion mentions, just floofy fluffness okay? use of y/n once, but other than that is just babygirl as usual. not super long but i love it. part one

'STAY WITH ME, PLEASE..' jake 'hangman' seresin

A week into your vacation Jake had convinced you to go to an obstetrician after learning that you hadn't seen one yet, concerned for your health and the health of the little thing in your womb, whom he was already attached to, even if it wasn't his. It was there that you learned that you were almost eleven weeks along, Jake sat in the room with you, holding your hand as the ultrasound tech dims the lights. He squeezes it as she squirts more warm jelly on your tummy than you thought necessary and digs the wand in at an uncomfortable angle, moving it and the gel around your skin. You were just barely showing signs of a baby bump, and you were shocked to find out just how big the baby actually was by this point.

"How is it already that big?" Jake asks exactly what you were thinking, making the tech chuckle. He was in complete awe, there was really a tiny little being inside of you, you were growing a life form and there was nothing more beautiful than that to him in that moment.

"They grow so much faster than you realize," The woman says, a pleasant smile on her face as she stares at the screen, typing a few things in with her free hand, Jake noted from his position that they were measurements. "Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yes!" He blurts out before you could even process the question, you stare at him eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why he was so eager and amazed by something that he hadn't helped create. You thought it was wonderful though that your best friend was wanting to be so involved and caring despite your situation.

"Well, dad, you're having a little girl.." She says, catching you off guard by the mention of Jake being the dad and by the fact that you were having a daughter. Jake squeezed your hand, and even in the darkness of the room you could have sworn that he was a little teary eyed.

"Isn't that amazing, babygirl?" He asks, looking over at you. Your eyes are glued to the screen, not bothering to correct the woman on Jake not being the father, it was a difficult situation to explain and you weren't quite sure you were up for it today. Tears form in your eyes as you think about the little girl growing in your womb, who would never know her daddy. You had to admit that that was probably a good thing, he didn't deserve either of you if his initial reaction was to just leave and never come back.

You knew Jake felt the same way too, you didn't even have to ask.

"This all feels like such a fever dream.." You say softly, your head leaned against the window of his truck as he drives through the streets, away from the obstetricians office. You had a print out photo of your baby in your hand, staring down at it as you rubbed your stomach absentmindedly, your mind running in circles.

"Why's that?" Jake asks, glancing over at you for a mere second, not wanting to take his eyes off of the road for too long.

You look at him, wondering if he realizes just how fucked up the situation is. "Jake, I am pregnant..my boyfriend, the father of my baby left me because he swore i was a whore and that you were actually the father, and that was before i even knew for sure that i was pregnant.." You say, word vomit spewing from your mouth before your brain could even process what was happening. "I've just found out that i'm having a little girl who's not going to have her daddy in her life, and honestly good riddance but..but..oh my god Jake what am I going to do? This wasn't part of the plan..my daddy is going to be so disappointed in me..oh my god my mama would be so fucking upset..."

You hadn't even realized that you were crying, or that you were starting to panic, the weight of the situation fully sinking in on you. "Oh my god Jake, she's never gonna meet my mama..oh my god.." Jake doesn't know what to do, but he knows he can't let you keep crying like this. He pull's over into a parking lot, right at the beach and near a bunch of shops, pulling his truck to a stop in the first empty spot he saw. There are tears streaming down your face at this point as the thoughts of your father and your dead mother run around in your head, he had never seen you like this before but he knew that it was probably just the hormones.

"Hey," He says, his voice soft and sweet, his warm body encompassing yours as he slides across the front seat towards you, having lifted the center console up. He unclips your seatbelt and pulls you towards him, holding your head against his chest, your ear pressed right where his heart is. He had done this with you a thousand times before, the sound of his heartbeat had always brought you back to earth when you would have moments like this. "you're okay, i got you babygirl, i always got you.." He whispers, his lips moving in your hair as he presses a soft, comforting kiss to the crown of your head. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wondered if he knew that these were the things that made you feel like he loved you in more ways than he let on, the things that gave you the smallest glimmer of hope.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat and the slight rumble in his chest as he whispered things to you, slowly but surely calming you down. After a while you let out a shaky breath, your eyes opening to see the people milling about the small shopping center. "Where are we?" You ask, voice thick from the crying. Your head hurt and your eyes were heavy, you wanted to go back to his apartment and sleep, preferably in his arms, like you used to when you guys were younger.

"We're not too far from home," He says. Home..You liked the way that sounded coming from his mouth, it was always nice to hear it. "Do you want to get out and walk around? Go sit on the beach." You shake your head, sniffling softly. He kisses the top of your head once more, rubs your shoulder with his large hand. "Okay babygirl, let's go home..you look like you need some rest." He wasn't wrong, between the morning sickness that had been plaguing you in recent days, and the stress of everything, you hadn't been getting enough rest.

You manage to stay awake for the rest of the ride back, letting the gentle breeze through the open window soothe you. Jake doesn't say a word, but you see a look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed like he was thinking really hard about something. "Jake?" You ask, turning to face him, wondering what was on his mind.

"Stay." He says, looking over at you as he pulls up to his apartment building, the truck rolling to a stop. "..I..You should be here with me, you should've been with me from the beginning, but I was too chickenshit to man up and ask." You're shocked, and start to open your mouth, wanting to stop him. "Let me finish, damn it!"

"I haven't gone a day without talkng to you or thinking about you since the day I met you, and it's not just because you were my best friend, because you always will be that, no matter what, it's because i've been in fucking love with you since day one. And maybe i'm dumb because it's taken me so long to realize it, because everyone i've ever dated knew it but dammit i know it now, and have for a long time.." He rambles, you're unsure of what to make of this, your brain still processing that you were hearing him correctly. "I..know that this isn't the ideal situation, and i know that that little girl isn't my blood, but dammit i don't care because i already think of her as my kid, and i have since i found out..I can't let you walk away, not without knowing how i feel..I want to be with you through this, and through everything else in life so i can take care of you the way that you deserve, because Y/N, nobody else in this world is ever going to love you like i do.." You feel yours well with tears and subconsciously you pinch yourself, hoping to god that you weren't dreaming. "So stay with me, please.."

"Oh, Jake.." You whisper, tears spilling once more from your eyes. You can't make any other words come out of your mouth so you just nod your head and you watch his body sag with relief before you unbuckle your seatbelt and rush forward into his already waiting arms. He squeezes you tight and presses a long kiss to the top of your head as you hiccup.

"Hey, no more tears, babygirl, okay?" He whispers, leaning your head back as he brushes the tears away with his thumb, you lean into the embrace, a smile gracing your lips as your arms go around the back of his neck.

"They're happy tears, i promise.." You say, leaning forward to press your lips against his. You had though about this moment so many times in your life, and none of your wildest dreams had every prepared your for the real thing. Jake kissed you like a man starved, his hand on the back of your head, fingers scrunching up in your hair as he presses you as hard against him as he can. You groan at the possessiveness of it, pulling back after a moment to catch your breath. You can't help but let out a chuckle, leaning your forehead against his. "You picked one hell of a time to finally fucking say it, Seresin."

"Hey! You could've said it first too you know!" He says and you can't help but laugh, relishing in the way he smiles at you.

Jake & Babygirl taglist: @bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mayhemmanaged

[thesherrinfordfacility]

what does aziraphale know?

i wanted to have another look through the pre-fall scene because there was something that wasn't feeling Quite Right to me about it, and honestly the below is just a stream of consciousness rather than any coherent theory, analysis or otherwise - so read at your own peril.

so the school of thought for many reasons has been that the Angel Who Crowley Was (AWCW) was a powerful angel, and i don't think that can be argued sufficiently given what we have seen so far from s1 and s2. but after rewatching the pre-fall scene i do wonder if crowley's importance in the Grand Scheme of Things has been overestimated, possibly by noone more than AWCW/crowley himself, and if aziraphale was actually the one with status, however quiet and modest.

when we open with the pre-fall scene, we see crowley alone, and he calls at a passing angel for some help with the map/plan. now this angel seems to rocketing past at the literal speed of light, and i cant help but feel that they were actually intending on going somewhere. and at the below specific angle, that angel looks like they were heading in a downward trajectory.

given that AWCW points up when referencing "Upstairs", we can infer that whilst heaven may not be bound by concepts like upstairs or downstairs, it does seem to have a concept of a higher placement for a higher being (ie god). this is also going on the assumption that in this scene, AWCW and the angel are even in heaven-space (which arguably, they're not), but regardless the angel seems to be heading down, indicating that they've just come down from the Up.

in any case, when aziraphale arrives, has helped AWCW with the cranking, he then says, "was that it?". and the way he says it, his body language, indicates to me that he is being polite, but in a perfunctory way. to me, it almost feels like he has things he needs to get on with - not in any frustrated or impatient manner, but just simply, 'is there anything else you need from me?', because he has things To Do.

(gif quality does not display this lmao but it's the impression i got anyway)

but AWCW puts out there that that was just the starting the ignition, and gleefully says that the next bit is where the true magic happens. which, i think is obvious, is where aziraphale actually reacts in any of the same manner - he begins to really smile, and offers up his name, even going so far as to say hi for the first time in the conversation. and i do think this is because he's just gotten a slam dunk of 'oh shit this angel is cute', but that's almost immaterial.

the part of the dialogue that struck me however is that AWCW says, "ive been waiting for this since... well, always!". it's not particularly revelatory, but to me basically says that AWCW has literally been working on this since he was formed from the firmament, having concept and design meetings with god, but this has been his entire "life"'s work, and he has never known anything else. he could just be being hyperbolic and i could be reading into it, but it would make sense for this starmaker to have only ever been a starmaker.

and heaven is certainly portrayed as being the most desolate place ever conceived, whether its in the dreaded High Rise Penthouse office building or in this vast, empty, dark space (presuming of course that the latter is in fact part of heaven, which it may well not be - and instead be in the space between planes before the universe was actually created)

regardless it gives the distinct impression of being very Lonely. so can we surmise from this that AWCW is not only a starmaker, but The Starmaker? working entirely in a team of one (thinking about the ep6 line of a "team... of the two of us") to create this nebula, possibly even most of the universe? crowley is described as being the only demon with an imagination, and his weapon of choice is literally the same instrument with which he cranked up this nebula... was his imagination in heaven also that revered and that's why he was entrusted with this project? and other similar ones? possibly.

but that spells for loneliness - single genius can be lonely. so it stands to reason that AWCW would be eager to have someone around to get dizzy with him about the wonder that is this new nebula and appreciate him for his creation. but it's not out of it being aziraphale being the one to appreciate it - we can surmise that in the way AWCW brushes him off. is this a case of self-importance? feeling he has status and should be recognised for this achievement? i feel like this is potentially a likely scenario.

in any case, AWCW seems pretty set on creating not only for himself, which he evidently finds fun and self-rewarding - going so far as to preen at the heartfelt but small praise that aziraphale gives him, but because its part of gods plan, and he's doing it for her.

he's even given perhaps one of the most famous lines from the bible, "let there be light". do we even trust that in GO it was god that originally said it - was it in fact AWCW? well either way, he completely believes in her vision, as far as he understands her vision to be.

so imagine how it must have felt then, in this instance, to have this stranger angel tell him that hes fairly certain that god is planning to destroy it in the next few millennia. AWCW, who is entrusted with creating parts if not all of her universe, isn't even clued in on the full facts, but aziraphale seems to be.

aziraphale is even seemingly part of the team (or is the whole team?) that seems to be entrusted with the plan of god's ultimate creation - earth and people built in her own image... but in kind doesn't seem to quite understand the true purpose of the nebula AWCW has built, at least according to him.

do we take this as an indication that god doesn't readily share her plans between angels, or that the nebula doesn't actually have as much importance as AWCW believed it to have? in any case, aziraphale seems to have been entrusted with god's plan, and AWCW - a creator whose creation the plan directly threatens - isn't.

aziraphale then goes on to describe the people they are currently designing; if we went with the notion (ie not sure how true this is in GO!verse) that humanity is god's ultimate creation, aziraphale has been trusted to help with that. i can't imagine just any angel would be, so there must be something in aziraphale that god sees as being fundamental in helping her with building them. from what we know of aziraphale's characteristics even this early on in his arc, he seems to be a kind and selfless person, and these may be the qualities that in building humanity god considers instrumental.

when we further consider that aziraphale then ends up being guardian of the eastern gate, and seems to have gone unpunished in giving away his sword (spelling its own implications for humanity as concerns war, cruelty, and death) and lying to her about it, this really does indicate to me that aziraphale is literally one of - if not the - favourite. given his qualities that it seems the other angels seem to lack (yes, even AWCW to a certain extent), it might just be that aziraphale was god's perfect angel. that would make sense.

the other thing that struck me is that aziraphale warns crowley against questioning god. the fall hasn't happened yet, so what gives aziraphale the foreboding sense of doom if crowley were to directly question her and her motives? "if i was the one running it all, id like it if..." strikes me as being the foreshadowing that it's this exact phraseology that AWCW puts before god and spells for disaster; that crowley intimates that if he were in charge, he would do things better. which is eerie when you again take into consideration the bookend that is aziraphale, "if im in charge, i could make a difference".

i would take the context of this being set pre-fall to indicate that there isn't any concept of actual punishment in heaven just yet (other than what a supervisory angel might order another angel to do, or a general reprimand). so what exactly is aziraphale afraid of? why is he scared for AWCW? doesn't he trust god to be understanding and kind if AWCW were to ask questions? what is it that aziraphale knows that AWCW doesn't?

so this is where i come to wondering if crowley was indeed prince of hell (okay yeah, fuck it, this is now a theory). what if it was actually aziraphale? god's perfect angel, entrusted with creating and guarding her ultimate creation? would it really be implausible that aziraphale went back to god and mused on what AWCW had said to him?

that it would perhaps be beneficial to have further input on how things were being created, especially when all the hard work, the creativity and genius, that was going into making her plans a reality, was just going to be wiped out in a snap? AWCW had 'friends' that fanned the flames of questioning god, doubled down on his resolve, and aziraphale tried to forestall the punishment that would inevitably come for him... but in doing so was punished himself?

but because aziraphale is her Favourite, instead of making him fall, she wiped his memory of it? he evidently remembers crowley as an angel, but beyond that? especially his remark that he's never killed anything (when, even if indirectly, aziraphale actually has? s1 with the french guard and the airfield soldier (perhaps not taking book canon into account here re: soldier) and the demons in s2) - does aziraphale not remember being a soldier? had a hard factory reset and is back to the unblemished, untainted angel he was before?

what if crowley did indeed bargain for aziraphale to be spared? that it was his fault that god was going to make him fall, it was his questions not aziraphale's? i think narratively it could make sense in the way that aziraphale and crowley are put as two halves of the same whole; that crowley did a selfless thing and was damned for it, whereas aziraphale wanted something selfish for crowley but was spared from the consequences. it would also go some way to explaining why crowley always has to protect aziraphale - its literally been his way since the beginning, in recompense for what happened to aziraphale?

i realise that this is completely batshit, but i do like the idea (im a huge fan of a bait and switch), and poetically speaking i think it could work - that instead of crowley being the original fallen angel, it was actually aziraphale? borne out of kindness and fondness for his new friend, the friend that actively seemed to welcome his company and wanted to show him the stars, and wanting to make heaven and the world a better place?✨

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 2

Propaganda Under Cut

Allura

Lots of people (myself included tbh) ship klance (Keith and Lance). In s8 the creators made Allura/Lance canon (but then they killed her off and left the ending ambiguous it was weird). Anyway the fandom treats her like she's the most terrible bitchy woman ever but all she wants to do is end the war and avenge her destroyed home planet. Yeah she wasn't always the nicest or always the best, but you could argue some other characters in the show aren't either and they aren't treated near as bad as allura. people really just hate her bc Lance liked her. I don't think allura/lance are good together, but I still liked her as a character and thought she was interesting and had a lot of growth during the show. she DEF is not evil like some people portray her as in fic or talk about her in captions on posts. I've seen people say that they HATE her and that she's the worst and I'm like ??? let her live (well sort of ig she is dead now). lots of fic writers use her as the villain which is so interesting to me bc the show literally has villains like use them. anyway allura so perfectly fits the bracket description she deserves better.

I hate to acknowledge my time in this fandom but I hate the way the fandom treated her more. Allura was treated like shit no matter what side of the Great Ship War you were on because she was always a threat to the biggest ships (klance and sheith). At best she got put into Background Lesbian or Consolation Prize Shallura (Space Mom-zoned) (She was not a motherly figure btw. She was just Black). At worst she was violently demonized for being ~racist~ (kinda not cool with the alien race that blew up her planet for a few episodes), complete with misogynistic language hurled at her (she got called a bitch sooo much). Allura was a good and cool character and the show did her dirty but the fandom was somehow worse.

i apologise for speaking the dark magicks, but amidst the voltron fandoms many, many transgressions, there were a particular subset of people who just hated this girl. the infamous klance wars of the 2010s kept this perfectly fine childrens cartoon character in the sights of shippers everywhere, and she (and her voice actress im sure) were subjected to years of petty squabble blown up to global perportions. ive seen hate, ive seen rants, ive seen fanfics that made her homophobic. girls been through the ringer, and even though voltron was never the show its fandom wanted it to be, i believe allura deserved better

Mary Morstan

a controversial one i know, but it’s tumblr. how could i not? anyway shoutout to the writers for CANONICALLY killing her off for the non-canon ship. she was so cool honestly poor girl

Oh god where do I start? Constantly being turned abusive? Killed off (in canon!)? Constantly being removed from fic? I cannot stand the way she's treated, but it's 100% impossible to find Johnlock fic without the "umsympathetic Mary Morstan" angle. It's infuriating!

The fandom insulted Mary at every conceivable turn, refused to acknowledge her narrative importance or impact on the other characters, called for her death repeatedly, and even SENT DEATH THREATS TO HER ACTRESS because she had the AUDACITY to be a morally gray female character who was married to John (they did not care about the moral grayness of the male characters, but she was irredeemable, apparently-presumably because she was a "threat" to the main fandom ship). And though she was definitely sacrificed on a SPECIFIC mlm ship altar, she was still tangentially victimized by OTHER mlm ships too! For example, this fandom was willing to make up a character WHO LITERALLY DID NOT ACTUALLY EXIST to ship with different male character (who was morally...way worse than she ever was), as well as create swathes of content about two men who had maybe one canon interaction in the whole show, before even thinking about the possibility of making content for this character or even just talking about her in a way that wasn't overtly misogynistic and degrading. When Mary died in-story (in what, in my opinion, was an unnecessary, bullshit way), her death was, to this fanbase, not actually about her and was just seen as "proof" that the two male leads would now get together (they didn't). And this STILL continues to this day. People reduce her to "selfish bitch," completely ignoring any of her complexity by claiming that she's incapable of caring about anyone (despite helping to save lives on more than one occasion, as well as dying in an act of sacrifice) and insisting that any of her positive qualities MUST be completely fabricated. I've seen a lot of female characters get mistreated by fandom for a mlm ship's sake, but I don't think I've EVER encountered an example as bad as this one.

[ruthlesslistener]

do you have any headcanons for anything you've been holding onto, but haven't had a good chance to post about? I love your fics and I wanna peer into your mind palace

Shhdhchs EXCELLENT bc ive had a lot of thoughts but this quarter + anxiety in general has been killin me

-Okay so I'm still hyperfixated on Destiny 2 bc of a DnDestiny game I'm in, but since Hollow Knight is a special interest and I read a couple of frankly stunning crossover fics (one with the Inheritance Cycle, one with Transformers, both are outstanding and I will recc them wholeheartedly if you ask- the TF one especially blew my tits clean off which is saying something bc I have zero TF knowledge, also its 500k words but I'm rambling), my brain has been essentially locked into the concept of a crossover AU where a couple of my D2 OCs get slingshot into the HK world via a fucked-up warpgate through wish-dragon magic, and it's now got me kind of obsessed with the idea of the world of Hollow Knight taking place on an alien planet that had some convergent evolution re: general insect body plans, but went off the fuckin' rails with everything else. So here's some worldbuilding thoughts on that:

-Their planet would be far from Earth and the origin place of the Ahamkara and precursor race to the Worm Gods, who are distant relatives to each other that took to the stars to opportunistically feed off of rifts in reality. They are in turn sister taxa to the Wyrms and Higher Beings from Hollow Knight, who also feed off of the wants, desires, and gulf between what-is-desired-and-what-is-true, but unlike the worms and wish-dragons, the Higher Beings are essentially 'settled' species. They're the farming civilization to the hunter-gatherers of their Destiny-based kindred, and yes, both branches of the family tree fucking despise each other and look down scornfully on the other's lifestyle. The Higher Beings view the Worms and Ahamkara as little more than scavengers, while the Worms and Ahamkara see the Higher Beings as glorified slavedrivers with sticks up their asses- though it should be noted that since the Ahamkara's whole deal so far has been malignant trickery as a hunting style, this doesn't neccessarily carry the same negative connotations that it would in our society. I also don't know enough about the proto-Worms to say how their race would react, but the Worm Gods as they are now certainly are something that Wyrms would look down on

-(Yes that means I have thought extensively about the Pale King's ghost bristling aggressively at a baby ahamkara barely a few hours old. In my defense, it's funny, and also I almost never remember to write him as the cold, prickly, arrogant ass that he is bc his kids make him Big Sad)

-The planet would likely be smaller than Earth with lighter gravity, though how much smaller I can't say because I'm not a fuckin' physicist. I just want an excuse for making fuckoff-huge animals a thing even beyond the inherent space magic thing going on

-Oh, and most life is underground because the atmosphere is thinner than Earth and so the upper surface gets bombarded with deadly amounts of radiation, which causes the mind-wiping effects of the Wastes (where the angle towards their sun is the greatest and thus the strongest). Ngl I did briefly think about potential magnetic field fluxes also being the cause of that effect but like, I cannot overstate how little I know of things outside biology

-HK being set on an alien planet lets me do wack shit with the species there too bc I'm no longer bound by comparing them to Earthbound species. For example, I can make Quirrel an isopod with cricket legs. Who's going to stop me, God? He doesn't exist here

-That also means I can stop being bothered by Herrah's dubious leg placement bc it would kill me forever otherwise

-Also, them being on an alien planet gives me even more of an excuse to never put traditional vertebrate species in there, which is great. I've said it before, but putting Earth vertebrates in the HK setting totally ruins all the fun for me because I love the concept of all the species diversity being made up of invertebrates, and that the 'advanced' bugs we see have filled the niche that vertebrates would have otherwise taken over. Like the carboniferous period but on steroids

General HK thoughts too:

-been toying with the idea of wyrms having a set of evertable inner jaws like polychaete worms, which would be used for keeping dirt out of the mouth and biting off chunks to eat, while the outer jaws (the ones we see) are used for killing, digging, and sparring with other wyrms. The idea is that the outer ring of mandibles bites big circular chunks out of the substrate, which then breaks off into tiny pieces they filter out in between gaps in their mandibles and pack down into tunnel walls as they move forward

-I've also been toying with the idea of them secreting some kind of mucus as they dig that's almost a calcifying substance, but now that I think about it, I can probs just put those glands in their frontal mouth so if they need to reinforce a tunnel (like, say, one burrowed in sand instead of rock), they can mix their saliva in with the substrate to chemically solidify the tunnel walls

-Which btw is a major thing for ecosystems bc the tunnels are used for lots of different things by lots of different species. Wyrms are terraformers baybee!! Kinda the same way wildfires are, but still

-I've also been thinking about maybe making it so that the row of plates I like to draw on their backs act as a secondary pair of belly scutes, which means that wyrms can slither just as easily upside down as they can on their undersides, which helps underground. It's not as efficient as the super-smooth scales on a blind snake, but that's the tradeoff they get for needing to be so heavily armoured

-I'm also leaning towards making marine/freshwater variants that are just straight-up bobbit worms on even more steroids, but since I already have fuckoff huge marine alien bobbit worms in a scifi setting of mine, I'd need to figure out a way to make them unique

-I learned that there's internalized folds of exoskeleton for muscle attatchment in my invertebrate biology course and got really excited about that being a potential basis for the formation of skeletal elements in the world of Hollow Knight- like, maybe bug bones started off as those lil folds (i forgot their technical name which is embaressing bc i literally just took the final this night) becoming stronger and deeper-set into the body to better support the weight of larger and larger bugs, and then it spiraled into a skeleton analogue from there. Being derived from the exoskeleton probably means that it would be less strong than our bones, but it would likely also be lighter

Misc:

-God I really need to write Hornet in Silksong so bad. Fuck. I need need need to write this mildly autistic unsocialized princess running amok in a civilization that isn't ready for her. Also my interpretation of Lace is basically an oc at this point but I don't want to do anything with her just yet bc that shits a lot of work, I just need to write everything down for her so far (and tbh Lurien probs also counts at this point but thats more filling a niche that TC left unfufilled)

-I've also got gijinka thoughts in that I'm leaning towards making Lurien a trans guy who didn't have any gender-affirming surgeries bc a.) I love love love making a variety of trans characters and b.) Hallownest isn't a society where the concept of being transgender is an issue, so there's no need to do it to pass, only to prioritize your own comfort. And since Lurien never expected to be seen in anything but his formalware, he never saw the point of bothering

-(The aformentioned point also applies to normal bug Lurien but this is more of a personal thing here)

-Need to focus more on how the latent magic of the god of a realm changes your eye colour, with the more intense the shade = the more involved you are with their magic. Using Lurien as an example again: his eyes were brown naturally, but after he became Watcher, they slowly shifted to shades of paler and paler blue. I also like the idea of Quirrel's eyes getting more blue the more memories of Hallownest he unlocks, until they're the same shade as the Blue Lake in his final scene

-This can also happen in reverse; for example, my Lace gijinka starts off with gold eyes to signify the church of Pharloom's hold over her, but then slowly revert back to brown as Hornet gives her more and more hope that the institution can be toppled, until they're eventually their natural deep brown with just the faintest flecks of silver in them (signifying Hornet's importance in her life)

-It just occurred to me the other day when I was at work that Striga and Morgana from Castlevania S3 are almost exactly how I imagined my Vespa and Herrah gijinkas to be and now I can't stop thinking about it. The main difference is that my Herrah is a fat spider-orc with tats and Vespa is a fae queen with bee features shimmering through her human veil, but still. Its uncanny

[bitchinbarzal]

Okay but like can we please get the part two of Mat and Mama’s fight 🥺 that broke my heart

Mat had been riddled with guilt all day long. After practice when he’d returned home to relieve Lola, your nanny of her duties with the kids.

Ivy hadn’t said much to him, silently avoiding him.

When he put Ryder down for his afternoon nap he found Ivy sitting in the living room watching Bluey on the tv.

“Hey Princess”

She looks up at him from her pile of blankets, clutching her Sparky stuffed teddy

“Hi daddy” she mumbles, her eyes never leave the screen.

He sits next to her, arm draped over the back of the couch.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on in that lil head of yours?” Mat asks, poking her head which pulls a giggle from Ivy.

She looks up at him, your eyes looking back at him as she asked “Are you and mommy not love each other anymore?”

Mat’s heart broke and he let out a shaky breath “Of course not baby, I love mommy so much”

“Why do you shout then?”

“I don’t know princess… I guess I’m just upset with mommy sometimes and that’s ok! You get upset with Ry sometimes, right?” He nudges her and she shrugs

“I guess”

“Well sometimes me and mommy get mad at one another but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her” he explains and Ivy hums in response

“I love your mommy so much ives, no matter what! Momma could be so mad at me and I’m still gonna love her so so much because she’s my best friend in the whole wide world”

The little girls head quirks to the side “she’s your best friend? I thought that was uncle Tito?”

Mat’s head shakes “Mama’s my best friend forever”

Ivy seems satisfied with his answer and goes back to her show.

That night there’s a game at the rock so you won’t be home until late. The kids don’t typically go to devils games unless one of the wives or girlfriends take them, it’s a somewhat established rule that Mathew should not attend Devils games as it can be seen as disrespectful to the islanders organization.

So it was a pleasant surprise to Ivy when Mat tells her to get ready after dinner, both kids are dressed in a devils jersey with their last name on it and the number 13.

Ryder’s in a carrier on Mathew’s chest while he sits in the stands next to a very excited Ivy who keeps telling everyone “My mommy’s on the bench! She’s a doctor!”

And “I know them! That’s my uncle Nico!”

There were a few confused and excited hockey fans when they saw him. The in house event team were having a field day once the puck dropped.

The jumbotron panned over to your family at one point and you were too busy watching the game so Nathan shouted

“Hey Barzal! Tell ivy we love the support!”

You frown until Jesper points you up to the jumbo tron. There is Mat, Ivy and Ryder all smiling and Ivy’s holding a sign that says

Go Devils, Go! + Mommy!

You smile and shake your head “That family of mine”

Once the game ends you make your way to the medical room to see to those boys choosing to come down who ends up being Vitek, Jesper and Nico.

“I saw the kids out there tonight” Nico mumbles while you do stretches on his leg.

You smile “Yeah i saw them on the jumbotron, Mat must’ve brought them — I told them to go home Ry would’ve been asleep second period and Ivy looked like she was so close to sleep”

It’s late by the time you get home, the light in your bedroom is the only one on. You shrug off your coat and take off your shoes before tiptoeing up to Ivy’s room and kissing her sleeping head then into Ryder’s room to do the same.

By the time you enter your bedroom Mat is sitting up in bed waiting for you. You don’t say anything, slipping into the bathroom to shower and changing into your pyjamas.

Once you’re finished and re-enter your bedroom Mathew is still sitting there just looking at you.

“What’re you staring at?” You question, slipping in under the sheets.

Mat smiles “My beautiful wife”

You Huff “If that’s your way of apologizing, it’s shitty”

He frowns, pulling your hand into his and angling his body towards you

“You’re my best friend, I love you and I’m sorry”

His words, while not long were heavy and you knew he meant them.

You don’t respond, he doesn’t need a reply. Instead you let go of his hand and shimmy down so your head is rested on the pillow, Mat does the same.

You’re both facing one another and he leans over to kiss you slow, your emotions pour into the simple kiss.

Every ounce of anger, sadness, lust and happiness poured into each other. Mat’s hand gripped the back of your thigh and urged you to flip on top of him, straddling his waist.

Once the two of you pulled away, giggling like school children You mumbled “Thank You for bringing them tonight, it meant the world to me”

“Lou’s definitely gonna kick my ass tomorrow, but it’s worth it — you’re worth it baby”

“I love you, mat”

“I love you, angel”