#she has to be VERY good in her event to make me root for her. she better be a top tier girl or hg we're gonna have to talk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 1 month

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please.

smut. 18+. alexia has a rough game, and needs something different from r. bottom!alexia

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You knew what Alexia wanted solely from the look on her face as she greeted you after the game. Maybe wanted was the wrong word; the look in her eyes was one of need. It was a rough game, ending in a draw. It should have been an easy win, but no one clicked today. It was likely the sheer amount of games the team had been playing, but that didn’t make anyone feel better. It especially didn’t make Alexia feel better, who took every result that wasn’t a win like a personal failure. She was barely hanging on, and that fact was very obvious to you, so you skipped the post game shower, electing to do it at home. Your girlfriend had sped through her own post-match routine, and was waiting impatiently by the door, ignoring everyone.

Alexia was an enigma, sometimes. You knew what she needed from you, but watched as she fought herself on it. She shook off your casual touch in the locker room, didn’t hold your hand in the car like she normally did. She didn’t really even speak a word to you when you headed to the bathroom to shower, completely lost in her own thoughts.

Still, you knew generally what would be waiting for you when you left the bathroom. Some variation of a very vulnerable Alexia, looking at you pleadingly. She always wanted you to do it without making her ask explicitly for what she wanted. You never went along with this, though. Part of what she needed was verbally letting go. Admitting what she needed was very necessary.

Alexia wasn’t waiting on the bed for you like you expected. No, when you opened the door and stepped into the bedroom Alexia was standing right in front of you, like she’d been pacing there. She was completely naked, a sight that normally you’d take a minute to admire. She moved forward, curling her larger body into yours, and pressing something into your hands. Evidently, Alexia hoped that this wordless gesture would be enough for you.

“Hey baby,” you murmured, taking the strap out of her hands and into one of yours, allowing your towel to drop to the ground.

“Amor,” she practically whimpered, so softly you could barely hear it. Her forehead leaned down to press into yours, and you sighed, relishing the close contact. You didn’t love the events that led up to Alexia needing you like this, but you did love when she got like this. So desperate, so needy, only for you.

“Tell me what you need.” You encouraged, running a hand through her damp blonde hair. Her roots were starting to grow out a bit, back to brown, and you loved the simple imperfection.

“Please, amor. It is all too much. Por favor, te necesito.”

“What do you need from me?” You asked again. You needed her to let go, give up control, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw and neck that she was still holding onto it. “Tell me, beautiful, and I’ll give it to you.”

Alexia took several deep breaths, forcing her body to relax, before she spoke. “Take control. Dime que soy buena.” Her words were barely more than a series of hot breaths on your face, and still, you felt a part of you shatter at them. For her to ask for that… you couldn’t begin to conceive how badly she must be feeling, how worthless. You hated how hard she was on herself, more than anything, desperately wished that she would just cut herself some slack, but that wasn’t Alexia. What you could do, though, was what she was asking of you. And you could do it well.

“Amor, you are so so good, telling me exactly what you need. Get on the bed for me, alright?” She sighed in relief in response, dropping her forehead onto your shoulder before she moved. “Do you need the handcuffs?”

You left it up to her. Sometimes, she needed to feel you. Other times, she wouldn’t be able to let go without you making her, without restraining her until she had no choice but to beg for what she wanted.

“Sí”

Alexia headed for the bed, while you got what you needed out of the drawer.

“Blindfold?” You asked.

“No. I need to see you.” She rasped.

You made quick work of attaching the handcuffs to her wrists, and then to the headboard. She pulled at them almost instinctively as you straddled her. Her head raised eagerly to meet yours in a searing kiss. She fought for control on instinct, but went limp under you when you gripped her face in between your hands. Kissing Alexia was the easiest thing you’d ever done, the easiest thing you would ever do. It was completely instinctual the way your lips molded to hers, the way your tongue fit into her mouth, the way you took her face in your hands like she was delicate, fragile.

She was a complete mess underneath you, acting the way you normally did after she’d teased you for hours. She was kissing you back, hungrily, but little sounds were escaping her mouth at the same time, and she was practically holding herself up off the bed in an attempt to get you closer to her. You could have made out with her forever, truly, but she quickly grew impatient, as you knew she would.

“Bebè, I need more,” she whined, clearly not content with only kisses from you.

“Do you trust me, pretty girl?” You pulled back briefly, looking intently into her hazel eyes. They were practically pleading with you themselves.

Alexia shuddered at the phrase, her body twitching under yours. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Then relax. I'm going to take care of you. I.” You pecked her lips in between words.” Love. Kissing. You. Let yourself feel good, Alexia. You deserve it, you’re my good girl.”

“I am?” she whimpered, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen from her before.

It was at this point that you realized a conversation would need to be had later, where you seriously checked in on your girlfriend. This was all about reassurance for her, yes, but never before had she asked you so explicitly to praise her. Pair that with how she was acting even though you’d barely touched her? Something else was going on with her, you were sure. And you’d fix it. Fucking her until she could barely speak was just part of that process.

“You are. My perfect girl, my best girl. Only mine, sí? All you need to do is relax, and focus on how good I'm making you feel.”

“Mmm, por favor,” Alexia hummed. She looked almost overwhelmed with need for you, her arms restrained over her head, hips attempting to jerk up into you, but you wanted to take things slow, ease her into it, in case it became too much.

“You promise to tell me if you need to stop or slow down?” You checked. Alexia could be… difficult sometimes. She was always up for a challenge, and she didn’t like to admit defeat. You were working on getting her to realize that asking for what she needed wasn’t defeat.

“I promise, amor, please touch me,” she begged.

You decided to give in, just slightly, and you left a trail of kisses down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, until you came to pause over her chest. Alexia’s nipples were unusually sensitive, and she normally didn’t want you near them, unless she was really far gone. You looked up at her, a question hanging between the two of you, but she didn’t see it, her eyes shut as her hands strained against the cuffs.

“Amor, do something,” she begged. You stifled a laugh, knowing she likely wouldn’t appreciate it, and rubbed her cheek with your thumb.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” you encouraged.

“Here, please,” she requested, pushing her chest up towards your face. You dusted kisses around it, before you leaned down fully, taking her nipple into your mouth and sucking, hard.

Alexia’s back arched off the bed at the sudden intense stimulation. “Fuck, fuck, sí, amor, sí,” she cried. She was breathing hard, twitching under you. You’d been working at her nipple for less than 20 seconds before she spoke again. “Fingers, amor, por el otro, por favor,”

You smiled against her, partially granting her request as you switched to her other nipple, and brought your fingers to toy with the one you’d just had in your mouth.

“Perfecta, perfecta, mi amor, ay dios mío,” she whined, and you released her mouth with a loud pop, focusing now on sucking deep marks into the skin of her chest.

“No marks, bebé,” she tried, but you frowned at her, shaking your head. She returned your frown, though it looked more like a pout.

“No. I will leave marks if I want. Because you are my good girl, and everyone should know who you belong to.” You weren’t normally possessive, but you made a note to be more often when you saw the way Alexia’s pupils dilated, and her jaw went slack.

Her hands pulled hard at the restraints, as she grew more and more needy, and you could see red marks beginning to form on them.

“Amor, easy on your wrists,” you reminded her, and slowly, her arms relaxed, falling slack in the hold they were in.

She didn’t relent, though, not really, and she forced her eyes back open, focusing on you.

“Please, cariño, I am so wet. Tócame.”

You leaned up off her, kneeling over her as you very slowly slid down her body, spreading her legs as you did so. You hovered your mouth over her core, practically salivating at how wet she was, her pussy glistening and throbbing already. You’d never seen her this worked up before, and you couldn’t help but tease her, just a bit.

“You are wet, baby, you’ve already made such a mess. Who is this all for, hmm?”

Alexia groaned, feeling your hot breath on her. “You,”

“Where do you want me to touch you?”

Her face flushed a bright red, but she responded nonetheless. “My pussy, amor, please,”

You had her right where you wanted her, finally, and you got right to work, immediately running your tongue through her, from her hole up to her clit. You licked around, keeping your attention not focused really anywhere specific, not wanting to make her come too fast, knowing that she was likely close already.

“Mierda,” she mumbled in a choked voice, grinding her hips up into your face without restraint. You were really just finding a rhythm, just beginning to focus your tongue on her clit when her muscles tensed on either side of your head, and she cried out loudly.

You froze, stunned that she’d come so fast, with so little stimulation. She must have been even more turned on than you’d thought.

“Did you just come?” you asked, rubbing a hand up and down her abdomen.

“Sí amor, lo siento, I could not stop it,” she whimpered, looking almost close to tears.

You figured the best way to reassure her was to let her know that you weren’t stopping to punish her, so you brought a finger up to tease over her hole, watching as her neck went slack, and her head fell back onto the bed, soft cries spilling out of her mouth.

“Don’t say sorry, baby. I want you to come, as many times as you need to, whenever you want to, okay?”

She could only hum in response, hips jerking as you inched your finger into her, finding that it slid in easily. You let it rest inside of her for a minute, not moving, highly enjoying the way her walls quivered around you.

When you did move, it was rapid, sliding a second finger into her easily and beginning to fuck your fingers in and out quickly. You could sense she was only growing needier, and that she’d want your face close to hers soon, so you took advantage of the remaining time you had eye level with her cunt, and watched as her hole sucked your fingers in eagerly, watched as her thigh muscles tensed, and as she bit her lip.

It only took a couple minutes before she was tightening around you, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“Gon-gonna come, fuck,” she whined, trying her best to warn you this time.

“Come, baby,” you encouraged, and it was only moments before she did, your name falling from her lips repeatedly. Her head twisted, and she bit down on where her arm was held next to her face, apparently unable to stop herself from growing louder.

“So good, baby, you sound so pretty when you come, don’t you?” You cooed at her, and she whimpered into her arm, her teeth having released the skin they’d captured.

She was half brainless, and she didn’t really notice when you slid away from her and off the bed. She was too busy trying to focus on your words, focus on the feeling of you inside of her. You kept saying she was good, so… she must be? Right?

The blonde’s eyes flew open when she felt you bend her knees and push them away from her body, until she was spread open wide for you. You had the strap on, the dildo Alexia normally took attached to it.

She looked from it, up to your face, clearly reading the question you were asking.

“Sí, amor, I want it.” She promised, working hard to keep her voice steady even as it shook with anticipation.

“Good. I’ve wanted to fuck you all week.” You murmured, pressing into her all at once. The moan that escaped her lips was loud and gratuitous, but you knew it was entirely authentic. You knew how to make Alexia come fast with the strap, as that was normally what she needed when you took control, so you angled it just right, gripped her legs in your hands to hold them open, and fucked into her. Hard.

All that can be heard in the room is the smack of your hips meeting hers, the filthy sound the dildo made as it wetly pumped in and out of her, and the quiet whimpers you were fucking out of Alexia.

You fucked her right through this orgasm, barely slowing down even when she clenched tight around you and you could barely move. You kept up a soft grind, cooing at her softly as she writhed against the bed, mouth opening and closing as no sound escaped.

“Amor,” she gasped eventually, “beso, por favor, necesito un beso.”

You leaned down easily, keeping up your pace, as you kissed her. It wasn’t as hungry as it was before, Alexia barely moved her lips against yours, and you knew she needed the contact more than anything. You pulled away briefly, thanking the universe that you hadn’t played the full 90, and could rely on your thighs and abs to keep fucking her slowly, as you unlocked the handcuffs. Her arms almost instantly wrapped around your back, insistently pulling you close to her. Her legs wrapped around your back, too, and she buried her face in your neck, until all you could feel was her wetness spread across your waist, and her warm exhales on your neck.

You sped up again, thrusting deep and hard inside of her, making sure to get the angle just write, as you moved your head to be able to whisper in her ear.

“You are so perfect, baby. So good when I fuck you. So wet, so tight, so fucking beautiful.”

“Amor,” she cried, her nails clawing marks into your back. You didn’t care, not at all. You only cared about the way your girlfriend was clinging to you so desperately, the way she met your words of praise with such insecurity and eagerness.

“I want you to come for me, baby, okay? I want you to come on my cock while I’m deep inside of you. Can you do that?”

“Sí, I am close, so close,”

“Good, good girl. Do you know how good you are? My girl, you are so perfect. Come for me.” You encouraged, and Alexia reacted to your words exactly as you hoped, body jerking and trembling under yours as she came, her loud moans muffled in the skin of your neck. It lasted for a while and you worked her through it, keeping up your thrusts but slowing them down, until you were stopped, still settled deep inside of her. You made to pull out, but Alexia shook her head insistently, clinging tightly onto you.

“Stay, please, not yet.” She requested, her voice wavering.

“Okay, mi amor. Okay.” You allowed, letting your body relax on top of hers, running a few fingers through your hair as you felt her go limp under you, everything relaxing except for her arms still wrapped around your back.

You weren’t going to let go until she was ready, but at the same time, you needed her to talk to you. You enjoyed being close to her, making her scream your name, as you always did. But you were concerned, more than anything. Whatever was wrong wasn’t something that could be fixed by just sex, so you let her take her time, knowing you would be making her talk when she was a little bit more herself. ------

part 2 with aftercare? someone take part 2s away from me.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months

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Practice On Me — Part Nine — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Roza’s arrival in Windhaven brings some home truths crashing down on Reader. She just needs a hug, someone to talk to, but it all goes very, very wrong…

Word Count: 3k.

Warnings: None.

Chaos evades logic.

There is no rationality to be found here. No sense to be made of the ample feelings that begin to chew you up and spit you out.

All you know, as you lace your breeches up and correct yourself, is that you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

“Are you decent?” Roza calls, her back still to you.

You tie the last lace. Clear your throat. “All good.”

The closest person you’ve ever had to a mother figure turns on the spot. She’s absolutely beautiful — fucking glowing — her swollen belly visible through her thick coat, and her eyes alight with a quality you’ve never seen before.

Rhysand really is the mirror image of her.

“I actually cannot believe I just witnessed that.” She grouses. “And just when I thought the morning sickness had finally come to an end, too. My poor, poor eyes.”

Cassian makes a noise. “Roz, that’s a bit dramatic—”

“You be quiet.” She points a finger at him. “Your mouth has done quite enough tonight, thank you very much.”

The two of them stare at each other — Cassian wanting to be a little shit and push his luck, and Roza wanting to…

Well, to gouge her eyes out with a rusty spoon, probably.

But then Cassian cracks a grin, and he’s bounding over to the female like an excitable pup. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“Watch your language.” Roza scorns, but she happily accepts the hug that Cass yanks her into. “Gods, you’ve grown even more.”

You…you are rooted to the spot. Unable to move.

You want to go over there, too. To embrace her. But…but just seeing Roza makes the previous couple of months come hammering down on you in an unwelcome downpour of unwanted realisations.

You think: Roza caught me fooling around with Cassian.

And then you think: Fucking hell, I fooled around with Cassian again.

And then you’re wondering how — how you’ve let the recent events of your life veer down such a beaten, broken path.

It’s like Roza’s appearance brings a clarity that has been very much absent as of late. She’s always been a figure of reason and wisdom, always stopped you from spiralling.

And now she’s here, you’re looking at Cassian — your damn friend — and wondering just how much damage you might have caused.

He’s mid-conversation with Roza when he seems to notice you staring at him. Roza notices, too.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She says.

You open your mouth, unsure how you intend to respond. All that slips out is a rasped, “I’m just…so glad you’re here.”

Cassian snorts. “Tell that to your face.”

You can’t bring yourself to laugh at the jibe. And it would seem that Roza can’t, either. She’s studying you in that assessing way you’ve seen her wear a thousand times before — the one where the motherly instinct kicks in, and she’s sensing something is wrong. It seems to be a subconscious act, the way she slides her hand over her bump.

“So what are you doing back here, anyway?” Cassian asks her, slinging an arm round her shoulders. “I thought the High Lord wanted you to stay in Velaris for the pregnancy.”

“He does.” Roza says. “But then I found out Y/N had somehow ended up homeless and that he hadn’t bothered to help, so he and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.” She eyes you again. “I’ve come to move you properly into the cottage — including retrieving your belongings from your father’s house. I will not have you freezing your ass off in this dump.”

Gods, you love her.

She’s so fierce, so passionate. This is a female who housed three lost, rowdy children under her roof and offered them the same amount of love as she felt for her biological son. This is a female who does what she believes is right and damns the consequences. This is a female who doesn’t hesitate — not for one second — to help somebody in need.

She’s the exact kind of female you want yourself to be. And she’s the only person you wish to see in that moment.

“Perfect.” Cassian chirps brightly. “I’ll help. Let’s go fetch Y/N’s stuff from the bastard’s house right now.”

He takes a step towards the door, but Roza is laying a hand on his arm. She doesn’t look away from you once. “Cassian, my darling, I love you endlessly. And so, I say this with the greatest of adoration — fuck off to the mead hall, or something, and leave Y/N and I to have some girl time alone.”

“What?” He squawks in outrage. “But you just got here.”

“And I promise you we’ll catch up properly later. But right now, Y/N and I need some time alone.”

“But—”

“Do you want to stay and discuss the ins and outs of childbirth?”

Instantly, he falters. The change of tune would be comical if you were actually capable of feeling anything but despair in that moment.

“You know what?” He cracks a grin. “The mead hall sounds great right about now.”

Roza chuckles. “I thought it might. I’m taking Y/N back to the cottage. I’ll come and fetch you when we’re done. And if you see Az or Rhys, be sure to tell them to stay away, too.”

Oh.

This is going to be a serious talk.

You can’t remember the last time Roza was so insistent about it just being the two of you.

Probably when you got your first ever cycle, and she held and soothed and bathed you through it.

Will she still be so tender when she hears of the full scope of the mess you’ve created for yourself? You’re not sure you’d deserve it.

“Go easy, Cass.” Roza warns. “Don’t get into any fights.”

“Pff. As if I would.” Your friend lands a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful, Roz.” He says, and then he’s bustling out of the door without a care in the world.

You stare after him. Wish you could be that carefree. It feels…it feels impossible.

Gods, you just want to fucking cry.

Roza can see that. She holds a hand out.

“Come, my little dove.” She says. “Let’s get you home.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It kind of feels like walking into the cottage for the very first time, all over again.

You remember that night like it happened only yesterday. Remember how the cold had felt as you’d followed Azriel through the snow. The noises of bickering coming from behind the door.

Even at eleven, Az had always seemed so much taller than you. You’d noticed that as he’d strode ahead and led you inside.

Roza had been standing in the kitchen, and she’d turned to you with a curious expression. “Oh.” She’d chirped, with more warmth than you’d ever heard from your own kin. “What have we here, then?”

You, Azriel had explained to her, had been set upon by a group of males far older than you. Az had defended you, and then he’d invited you to share his dinner.

Roza had taken one look at the dirt packed beneath your fingernails and told you to thoroughly wash your hands before taking a seat. You’d done just that.

And it was at that very table that Rhysand had introduced himself.

“I’m Rhysand. My father is the High Lord.”

Roza had scolded him for showing off.

And it was after that that Cassian had eyed you with a wild, feral look and simply said, “I bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle. I beat everyone.”

“Not at my dinner table, you don’t.” Roza had put a stop to that immediately. And then she’d placed a steaming pie in the centre of the table, and High Lords and arm wrestles were all but forgotten, and Azriel had been quiet and shy at your side, but dutifully offering you different foods before he took any for himself—

Standing at the threshold of the cottage, now…it’s like watching that entire scene play out before you. The ghosts of your younger, wayward selves feast greedily on a wholesome meal that lets you forget your harrowing experiences for a little while.

How things have changed.

You finally step in. Kick the door shut behind you. The smells and warmth of your sanctuary envelop you, and you know — you fucking know that you won’t be able to keep a lid on your tears for long.

“Don’t know how many times I’ve told those idiots to put the fire out before they leave the house.” Roza mutters, but she goes striding straight towards that burning fire and welcomes its warmth. “Although, I must admit, I’m a little impressed. I expected this place to be far messier in my absence than it is. Don’t tell me they’ve actually been cleaning—”

“Roza.” You cut in, your voice shaky, desperate. “About what you saw—”

She turns back to you. Says nothing as concerned, violet eyes sweep the length of your body. She’s letting you speak, but you don’t know what the fuck to say.

You open and close your mouth as though the act will make some sense of…any of this.

It doesn’t.

“I didn’t realise you and Cassian were…” Roza clears her throat. Pauses. “I just…what of Azriel, Y/N?”

You blink at her.

Roza’s very good at knowing things she hasn’t been told, but for her to know about you and Az when she’s been in Velaris this whole time, and when, as far as you’re aware, these things have been strictly kept between you and Azriel only—

“What?” You breathe.

“Perhaps I’m wrong, I don’t know.” She frowns. “But I always suspected that you and Az would be…something more. Your connection with him has always run a little deeper than with anyone else. That’s why I was so shocked when I found you…and Cass…”

Is she wrong?

No.

And fucking damn you for taking all these years to see it. Fucking damn you for only realising you wanted Azriel as more than just your friend when somebody else began to recognise his brilliance.

Fucking damn you for all of this, and damn Azriel, too, and damn everyone.

It all comes showering down on you in an instant, harsh and unwelcome.

You love Azriel. Not just in the way you love Rhysand and Cassian. You’re in love with his soul, his spirit. Who he is will always be tethered to who you are, even though he isn’t yours to cling onto. It’s been that way since you were old enough to harbour such feelings, and you’ve been burying it all these years, burying it under bad choices and regrettable actions, because all of that seemed easier to face, than…this. The fact that you were never able to control your heart, stop it from feeling such things, and now you feel them so intensely that it hurts.

Had your deal with Az ever really been about helping him, or had it been a selfish ruse under which you could have some small experience to remember him by when he inevitably gave his heart to somebody else?

Because you are just Y/N. You’ve always just been Y/N.

You are not Kaeda — Kaeda with the wings, and the strength, and the excellence.

Just Y/N. Just Y/N—

“Speak to me, my love.” Roza steps closer. “I’m worried about you.”

Your eyes blur with tears. Your legs buckle, and you’re bracing one hand on the back of the couch while the other flies up to cup over your mouth.

“Oh, gods, what have I done?” Your voice breaks.

“Speak to me.” Roza says again.

“This is all such a mess.”

“What is, Y/N?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know what—what to do!”

“You need to breathe.” She responds firmly. “Deep breaths. Now.”

You try. Gods, you try. But your chest is constricting, and the air won’t reach your lungs, and all you can hear on a constant loop inside your head is one, bellowing sentence.

Everything is irreversibly changed.

Roza closes the gap between you and cups your face. The touch is soft, but firm. She forces you to look at her, and her face is blurred by your tears, but you know she’s looking at you how she’s always looked at you — with love.

“Tell me what’s going on, and I can help you through it.” She pleads.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You sob back.

She yanks you close, arms wrapping around you. She’s held you like this through so, so much. This is no different.

But it feels different, in that it feels worse. Not only is it possible that your actions could change your relationships with both Cassian and Azriel, but also that they could change their relationship with each other, too — change the strong, steadfast dynamic between your three closest friends.

You tremble, clinging to Roza like you may just collapse. Your heartbeat gallops in your ears like rhythmic footfalls.

“Y/N—”

“It all turned into a total mess.” You choke out. “I was feeling things — I am feeling things — and then Azriel had Kaeda and I was jealous and stupid and I — I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have slept with Cassian.”

“You did what?”

Those three, outraged words are not spoken in Roza’s voice. The sudden interjection of Azriel’s is enough for your sobs to catch in your throat.

Every single inch of your body goes cold as you step back to look at him. Blink at him. Roza fights to keep hold of you.

Normally, he would have hurried over to embrace her. But he stays rooted to the last step of the staircase. He’s staring at you. Only you.

You’ve never seen him look so pale.

“Az.” Roza sighs softly. “We didn’t realise you were home.”

He doesn’t look away from you — not once — as he asks, “What did you just say?”

Roza inches towards him. “I think we all need to sit down and talk about this—”

“You fucked Cassian?”

Tears spill over, roll down your cheeks. Your voice doesn’t want to show itself as you croak out, “Az, I can explain.”

“You fucked Cassian?” He’s repeating it like…like he needs to. Like it won’t get into his head any other way. “You had sex with him?”

“Yes, but—”

“Around the time you and I were doing similar things?”

Roza’s head whips round to you in surprise. You’d failed to mention that bit. After a moment, she rights herself once more. “Azriel, you should let her speak.”

“I can’t fucking believe you.” Letting you speak is the last thing on his mind as he steps down, storming past the two of you. You reach out for him, but he’s jerking away, heading for the door.

“Azriel, please.” Your voice cracks. “Let me explain.”

“Explain that you fucked Cass? At the same time that I was sharing such…such huge things with you—”

“At the same time you were sharing them with Kaeda!”

He falls still, hand faltering on the doorknob, shoulders hunched.

And then he glances over his shoulder at you with an expression so bleak, you’d do anything, make a bargain with anyone, to wipe it from his face.

“Except that I’ve never touched Kaeda like that.” He says. “Not once. I couldn’t.”

Before you’re capable of summoning an answer, he’s yanking the door open and thundering out into the snow.

Shock pulses through you, ice-cold and harrowing. You blink, and blink and blink and blink, and you think Roza might be saying your name, but you can only choke out another sob that grates against your throat, and then your legs are moving forward, stumbling out of the door.

“Az, wait!” You cry, but he’s already striding far into the distance. “Please!”

You try to move, but it’s like the snow is binding your ankles, grounding you firmly to the spot. You sob. Try to move. Fall. Get up. It’s cold and wet. You’re hurting. Everything’s hurting.

And somebody’s yelling — yelling at you.

“Hey!” You know the voice. It’s a voice you don’t like. But you can’t put a face to it until its owner is stopping in front of you, sneering at you. Lord Devlon. “What did I tell you about staying away from these parts, girl?”

You’re incapable of answering him. You’re not even looking at him. You just stare and stare in the direction that Az disappeared in, fat, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m talking to you.” Devlon grabs your chin between his fingers, hard. “Insolent female—”

“Remove your hand from her face at once.”

He blinks at the sight of Roza stepping out of the cottage. Clearly, he had no clue she’d returned. And even he won’t speak out against the High Lord’s pregnant mate.

He drops his hand immediately.

Roza steps up to your side and narrows her gorgeous eyes at him. Her hand sits on her swollen belly. “Look at you, Lord Devlon — following orders like a good dog. Now, go on. Fuck off.”

There’s a slight twitch of a muscle as he clenches his jaw. He hates every second of it, but he obediently turns away from you.

“Oh — Lord Devlon?” Roza calls after him.

He stops. Turns. “Yes, lady?”

“I decide who can and cannot live in my house.” She stares him down. “That call is mine and mine alone. And if I hear of you giving Y/N any more trouble? I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

She turns her back to him with utter dismissal. If you weren’t so devastated, you might laugh at his stunned expression.

But Roza sees the pain in your eyes, and she pulls you into her arms.

“Come, my love.” She murmurs softly. “Let’s get you inside.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

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seeingivy · 2 months

Text

style

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

previous part linked here

an: this is 10k. I decided to leave the what am I to you scene for the next chapter bc of it...apologies....also I jsut wanted to post it bc I promised this at the beginning of the week and yday and now its been a long time coming

songs mentioned: style by taylor swift and glimpse of us by joji (minor mention of peace by taylor swift too)

“Wait, so. I don’t get it. You’re basically…acting like a couple on purpose?” Zeke asks.

Eren spares a weary glance to his parents, matching apprehensive looks in their eyes, as he slides the salt and pepper shakers towards Zeke.

Leave it to him to bring up the elephant in the room.

One mention of attending an award show or a red-carpet event had the three of them dropping everything to come to New York at the drop of the hat. Especially when Scott Clarkson was going to be attending.

Levi was more than happy to oblige them at the hotel they were all staying at, much to Eren’s dismay, which left him in his current predicament.

That unlike his friends, who were secretly letting him indulge in something he probably shouldn’t and turning a blind eye, the three of them were never going to let it go.

Eren knew that part of what he was doing was wrong. That he was walking a very fragile line and that their concerns, in some sense, were very valid.

He had promised you a show. The problem was that it wasn’t just a show for him. It wasn’t even the slightest bit difficult for him to give the public exactly what they wanted to see – to go above and beyond to prove that the two of you were better than ever.

He wanted that deeply – for it to be true. Fervently, desperately. It wasn’t hard to pretend when Eren had spent a majority of his life thinking about you, about what this would be like, anyways.

It started out simple. Eren offered to accompany you on your first walk out in public that morning – after watching you stare at the people through the window the entire morning. There was a big crowd lingering outdoors, supplied by rumors that the group of them were staying in the hotel, and he was positive that some part of it was making you feel green.

That and the fact that as much as you could front, some part of this had to be some level of nerve wracking to you. You had put on a brave face very well, but Eren’s deep rooted fear is that this’ll just send you deeper into that cave you retreated into last time – and that you’ll leave him waiting outside again.

So he offered to do your first paparazzi walk with you. Cited that it would have been the perfect thing to build up more publicity, give them a greater chance of stealing the morning headlines about how today was Hyla’s birthday and the buzz around what she was going to wear tonight.

It gave him an excuse to make sure you didn’t run off this time – that he’d be able to catch you if something happened.

Except Eren took it too far. He had given you the permission to pump the brakes whenever you felt like it was too much and the fact that you almost never did made it impossible for him to stop. So he pulled you close whenever the paparazzi were near, brushing his nose against yours as the two of you smiled sunshine into each other’s faces.

It was a disaster waiting to happen. Though from Eren’s expert point of view, he couldn’t fall any more than he already had.

The problem would come later – when it would just become another memory that he cherished, had to relive after he was finally denied the promise of your company and friendship for good.

When the show ended in two months and when you would have no reason to talk to each other again.

Eren shakes the thought from his head as he looks back up at them.

“Yeah. But trust me, it’s actually working. The record label dropped Ricky James and now that Y/N promised them her new album, they’re going to sever ties all together.” Eren states.

“I just don’t see what that has to do with pretending to date. You know, especially when you’re still in love with the girl.” Carla states.

“It’s sadistic. Even for you.” Zeke states.

Eren shoves him in the side. With his parents' eyes averted, he takes the chance to knee Zeke this time to catch his attention.

Could you just back me up? Eren mouths.

Zeke rolls his eyes, before quietly mouthing his response back.

Okay, fine! Just relax.

Eren turns back to the two of them, mustering his best smile. And hoped that deep down, that fleeting flare of hope that’s been burning in his chest won’t go to waste this time – that there are real grounds behind actually bringing Scott Clarkson down.

“There’s a certain publicity that you can’t buy with people who have…such a drama filled history like us. We’re aiming for a solidified deal with Ethan Cole by the end of the Met Gala.” Eren states.

He flinches when his dad drops the fork against the ceramic of the plate.

“Ethan Cole? Are you crazy, Eren? He’s never going to agree to a deal with you guys.”

“Maybe a little. But I think that we could do it. I spent years being played by idiots like Scott Clarkson – it’s not hard to tell that’s how he keeps people around. And…we have an idea of exactly how to do it.” Eren states.

“I don’t know, Eren. I don’t exactly like this idea. I wouldn’t exactly put your hopes on this.” Carla murmurs.

Eren gives her a smile, reaching to tangle his ankle with hers under the table.

He gets it. Deep down, he does. Because the last time Eren did this – with the court case and Connie and Lana at his side – Eren was downtrodden when Scott Clarkson’s life virtually stayed the same. Almost everyone knew, or had some semblance of an idea, that Eren had sued him, that Scott had terribly wronged him.

He had gone through the lengths of an entire court case, just for it to amount to nothing.

He still had his career. He still had the movies, a beloved producing company, and the godawful tabloids that ruined Eren’s life. People continued to work with him despite everything that had happened.

“I won’t be like last time. It…it almost feels better this time around. I have everyone around me and I don’t feel alone, so.” Eren adds.

“Well, you weren’t exactly alone the last time.” Carla states.

“You know what he meant. It’s different.” Grisha murmurs.”

“I do think she can do it. These people only care about what makes them money or…or moves their business forward. No one can do that for them like her. And even besides that, she’s really earnest in the way she moves. I feel like people could even become more aware of this type of thing if she spoke out about it.” Eren finishes.

Eren looks over, looking to his mom’s brown eyes hoping for her approval. He doesn’t exactly find it, but there’s a nod. He understands it all the same – that he’s the one who gets to make the calls here, regardless.

“Oh, let’s all relax! If Eren wants to kiss her and run around doing god knows what, that’s his business! He’s a grown man.” Zeke adds, sliding one hand around his shoulder and using his free one to pinch his cheek.

Eren seethes, stomping hard on his foot under the table.

“I don’t kiss her.” Eren defends.

“Not yet, you don’t. That’s for next month, right?” Zeke responds, with a wink.

Is this what Zeke thought backing him up was?

Eren can feel his cheeks burn. Leave for the empty spots in the script – that Levi had stated he had some special plan for – the last part of the show was almost finished. And much to Eren’s dismay, Hange and Levi overrode his opinion in the writers room and included a kiss in the script.

He’s just hoping for his own sake that they end up cutting it before the day comes like they did the first time. There were only so many things that he could stomach.

“That’s filming, Zeke. That’s different.”

Zeke rolls his eyes.

“Right.”

Eren’s thrown out of the loop when the door swings open, with Connie and Mikasa barging in with you at their heels. The three of you look particularly disheveled – sopping wet from the rain outside, giggly smiles on your faces – as Connie and Mikasa shake their hands at the group of them.

“We ran out of toothpaste over there, Eren. We’re just gonna take some.” Mikasa states.

“You needed three people to get one tube of toothpaste?” Eren asks.

“Well, I was going to come. Then, Connie decided he wanted to accompany me. And then Y/N realized we were going to get it from your room, then decided to come.” Mikasa responds, dragging Connie off to the little bathroom at the side.

Eren lifts his head to find you standing at the door, with…an almost awkward look on your face. The big smile that he saw seconds ago was virtually gone.

“You know what! I think Falco’s actually calling me…so I’m just going to…”

“You should sit. Eat breakfast with us.” Carla states, gesturing to the empty seat at her side.

That’s when Eren realizes it – and it sends an overwhelming amount of relief through him. That you didn’t feel awkward around him but around his family instead.

Eren racks his mind trying to remember it – when you were with them last. And if his memory isn’t deceiving him, it was the last Thanksgiving that you guys were together, a snowy November years ago.

And he gets it, the immediate nervousness. God knows he felt the same way around Falco and Colt when they arrived – after Levi hadn’t listened to his advice to not cast the two of them in the show. Just to spare him some torture.

Levi, obviously, refused to listen.

You always had your guard up around Zeke and if he knew you half as well as he thought he did, he knows for a fact that you must feel embarrassed to show your face around his parents now after everything that happened.

“Mom, it’s okay. You can go see if Falco’s good, Y/N.” Eren affirms.

Eren watches as your eyes meet his, slightly faltering before you shake your head and drag yourself to the table. From his peripheral, he can see that Zeke’s already too delighted for his own good as Zeke quickly offers you the seat at Eren’s side and sits directly across from the two of you.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jaeger. I appreciate it.” you respond, smoothing the little cloth over your lap as you knit your fingers into knots.

Eren busies himself with filling your plate, carefully sectioning small amounts of each dish, before he puts his hand in between yours. You welcome the touch, linking your fingers in with Eren’s under the table, as you shoot them all a smile. And Zeke’s godawful delighted smile back almost makes you sweat.

“Eren. You should go check on Falco, since he was calling Y/N.” Carla states.

“Huh? Oh, I-I’m sure he’s fine. Colt’s here and Gabi too, you know.” you mumble.

There’s no way you’re sitting alone with his family.

“I think Eren should check on him. That way, it won’t be in the back of your head while we talk.” Carla responds.

Eren shoots you a questioning look at your side, as you release his hand, and give him a nod. You can tell that he’s hesitating, his movements painstakingly slow as he exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you with the three of them.

“I apologize for that. He wasn’t going to leave unless you gave your approval.” Carla murmurs, as the three of them relax with his presence missing.

Zeke takes the opportunity to take the seat at your side, filling the empty space Eren left. He leans closer, voice quiet as he whispers and nearly makes your heart drop in your chest.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold your hand under the table like he did.”

You fight the urge to spit the water in your mouth straight into the glass – but swallow the shock and battery acid sensation down as you spare the two of them a glance ahead of you.

There’s a twinge of regret – that at one point, you used to be like their chosen family and now it feels like you’ve allocated a lifetime of hurt to their son.

“I want to start by apologizing.” you state.

The two of them look up at you confused.

“For?” Grisha asks.

“Everything I did to Eren. I…I care for your son an awful lot, though it may not seem like that at times. And I hope that you know that even causing the smallest bit of pain is something that I have to carry with me everyday. Something I’ll spend a lifetime trying to rectify.” you state.

Carla sighs, setting her fork down in her plate and crossing her arms against her forearms. You can tell that Zeke’s priming some sort of response against her just from the almost enraged look in his face and you make it a point to spare him a warning glance not to.

Whatever wrath she had prepared for you was what you deserved. And just like Eren and Mikasa, you’d spend your entire life fixing it till it was better with her too.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what it was that happened between you and Eren. I can read news articles and watch interviews and documentaries but…it doesn’t exactly make sense to me. I can admit that. I don’t know why you broke up with him and…and I surely don’t know why Eren thought it was okay to say everything that he did to you.”

“Oh. That’s nothing, really-”

“I don’t understand how you guys can make these big, love confessions without even confronting each other in the first place. Because…you’re not together, right?” Carla asks.

You bite down on your cheek.

“That’s right. It’s just for the paparazzi, trying to build up the hype around-”

“No, I get that part. But the interview, the documentary. You guys did that for each other, on some level. So I’ll ask again. You’re really not together?” Carla asks.

You sigh.

“No. I’m sorry. I…I haven’t thought much about that because I want everything settled before I even consider it. Being careless ruined everything last time…and I can’t afford to do that again. I want to be careful with his feelings this time around.” you state.

Carla pauses, before standing up and joining you at your side. And you’re caught completely off guard when she wraps her arms around you, pulling you up until you’re nestled in her arms and she’s rubbing at the sides of your biceps.

You forgot – she used to do this to you all the time.

“You…you’re a good girl. We’ve always loved you, always loved how Eren was around you, but…just be careful with our son, okay? I don’t want him to be hurt again and he’s sensitive, if that much wasn’t obvious at this point.”

“I appreciate that. Really, I…I don’t think you guys understand what it means to me. And I won’t, I’m making my sincerest promise that I’ll try not to. He’s….he means the world to me. He’s been my best friend as long as I can remember and…no one is going to be who Eren is to me.”

And for the first time, the two of them spare you a glimmering smile.

“He feels the same way.” Grisha states.

You sigh, offering the two of them a smile. And right on cue, Eren barges right through the door, the worry on his face melting as the two of you offer him a smile. You can tell that he’s a little confused – as he settles back into his seat and gives a questioning look to Zeke.

The two of them return to eating, as you dig your own fork into the food and push it around. That’s when Zeke slides his arm around the back of your chair, leaning forward as he gives you a smirk.

You can’t help but feel annoyed. Not in the genuine, hatred way, but in the same way you did when Colt used to tease you when you were a kid.

“So…family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother? That is about me, right?”

You roll your eyes, sparing him a laugh, as you elbow him in the side.

“I’m so sorry to break your heart here, Zeke, but that line in peace was about Eren and Falco. Not about you and me.” you state.

“Yeah, dumbass. She doesn’t even like you.” Eren mutters.

Zeke feigns hurt as he clutches his right hand to his chest and groans. You watch as Grisha rolls his eyes in front of you and Carla fights the urge to smile at his theatrics.

“You’re a bitch.”

“Language, Zeke! God.” the two of them cry, rolling their eyes at Zeke. Eren rolls his eyes as he stands up, stacking all the plates and placing them at the island as you turn back to look at the group of them.

You shake your head, laughing, as you thank your lucky stars at how comfortable it is, that you’ve floated right back into the ease that you always seemed to be in when you were around them. And Zeke too, for the first time.

Zeke spares you a genuine smile this time, as he gets closer to you.

“I think that you and I could be really good friends. We both love Eren and…and maybe we haven’t always done right by him but…”

You can tell that he’s getting tripped up by the words, that the sentiment that’s underlying is something the two of you have never really shared before. A closeness that brings you together. Because for you, Zeke was always something you needed to protect Eren from and for him, you were positive now, knowing what you did now, that maybe Zeke felt robbed of some part of that.

Getting to meet his little brother’s first girlfriend. Tease him about it, give him some brotherly advice – the way Colt did with you. That maybe he wanted the relationship that Eren and Falco had with each other with you, if things were different.

“Yeah. But…we’re going to do right by him this time. We’ll make sure of it.” you whisper back, averting your eyes to where he’s standing.

Zeke breaks out into a smile, extending his closed fist out to you as you push your own against his.

“One thing?” Zeke states.

“What’s that?”

Zeke has a nearly murderous glint in his eye when he says it. And it fills you up with a searing feeling of warmth.

“You give that asshole Scott Clarkson hell. For all of our sake.”

You give him a smile back.

“That’s a promise, Zeke.”

Eren can feel himself sweating on the opposite side of the red carpet. The stickiness of the hairspray is sitting heavy in his hair, the collar digging into his neck, and palms embarrassingly sweaty as he stares at the group of people around him.

Lana and Sukuna are fussing over fixing Connie’s outfit, Jean and Mikasa are taking shots at his side, and you can tell that Suguru Getou is truly cutting his losses at this point.

Satoru’s wearing an outfit with literal, raw meat on it.

“It’s camp!” Satoru whines.

“That was the theme last year, dumbass. And it’s not camp, you’re just a nuisance.” Megumi grumbles, pinching his nose as he joins Eren at his side.

Eren gives him a nod in acknowledgement, as he watches Yuuji at Satoru’s side, snapping excited pictures of Satoru’s meat hat and pokes his fingers into the red flesh.

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” Eren asks.

“Everyday I question my sanity.” Megumi mumbles.

“Could be worse. You could be married to Satoru.”

“Don’t remind me.” Suguru groans at his side, the two of them sparing a laugh.

Megumi chooses to keep the comment to himself. He swallows, pointing out that you had said the same thing to the pair of them when Satoru dressed up like that godawful cat years prior. Megumi figures that he’ll keep this thread of your invisible string to himself, for the time being – that it might not exactly be productive for right now.

Eren catches Levi’s head shifting towards him in the peripheral, as he looks over and tries to follow Levi’s line of vision. And feels his throat constrict as Ricky and Hyla walk past, the two of them sparing him and Lana a sickly sweet smile, and take their spots at the end of the line.

Eren notes that despite the fact that you had side-swept all of her designers to work with you, naturally she still put together an outfit. He was hoping that it would be worse than it actually ended up being. Though he supposed the birthday girl would always get what she wanted in the end.

“I’m ready to wipe that smug smile off of their fucking faces and I’m so serious.”

Eren nearly jumps as he realizes you’re now standing at his side, your eye nearly twitching as you watch the two of them. But all he can feel now is his own throat itching, Ricky and Hyla the least of his problems as his skin ignites at the sight of you so close to him. Your flowery perfume is invading his senses, as he fights the urge to ogle your dress full on.

“Y/N.” he whispers.

“Do I look stupid? The underslip they had for the dress didn’t fit me because Hyla’s so much taller that they just…told me to wear this matching set. I feel like I’m going to be flashing everyone.” you mumble.

“Better for you. You look fucking hot. And apparently, Hyla stole her dress from a piece that was already in the museum. I’m sure she’ll ruin it by the end of the night.” Lana states, as Sukuna joins her at the side and links his arm through hers.

The two of them have matching stitching on their outfits, wedding rings sparkling on their fingers. Eren clears his throat, your eyes expectant as you wait for a response, and his head nearly spinning from the overstimulation.

“She’s right. You’re beautiful.”

“You can say she's hot, Eren. It won’t kill you.” Sukuna complains.

Eren watches as your eyes widen, a soft pink blush running up your neck, as you avert your eyes. And Sukuna, naturally, ruins the moment by making gagging noises only to get smacked by Lana after the fact.

The two of them shuffle off, giving you a thumbs up behind their backs, as you turn to each other. Eren links his hands in with yours, giving you three squeezes, as he looks down at the dark makeup smeared around your eyes, making your eyes appear even bigger and brighter.

Eren gestures his head to the left, snaking his hand around your bare skin in the dress, and lines up directly behind Ricky and Hyla. And the two of you wait for them to walk out and follow directly after.

It goes exactly how it thought you would. You haven’t walked a red carpet since the last awards show – and from what Eren told you – it had been years since he had too.

It was simple.

Seeing Hyla and Ricky at a carpet together was almost a given, almost too predictable. It would hardly spare a headline in comparison to you two – together. Years after the fact, with Eren’s documentary behind you.

The clicking and the flashing immediately throws you off your guard, coupled with the screaming of your name, that you almost fall off the stiletto of your heels. But Eren’s quick with it, hands looped around your waist as he held you up against him.

“Thanks. I-”

“Don’t look at them. Just look at me.” Eren whispers, voice almost gravelly.

“What?”

“It’s better that way. Just act like you’re above them. Like you and I are the only people in the room.” Eren murmurs.

You give him a nod, catching his drift as you follow his lead. And it almost works too well – easing your red carpet nerves when you literally don’t have to acknowledge them and just have to hold hands with Eren all the way down the carpet.

Eren stops dead center, right before the steps, as you spare a glance over your shoulder. The group of them are following – Satoru’s raw meat causing a commotion at the start – and you turn back to him.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you just asked me to get you a necklace for the Ricky thing, but I actually did ask them to design a custom one for you.”

You smile. You had made it a point – that you were going to stick it to Ricky for that stupid night that he left you drenched in the rain – but you failed to consider that this would happen. Though in hindsight, you should have expected it.

Eren was always thoughtful when it came to things like this.

“Really?” you ask.

Eren nods, as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little charm necklace. You take it in his hands, admiring the little charm at the center, of the planet Saturn. You frown, turning it over in your fingers.

“Does Saturn have some connection to Uranus that I don’t know about? I thought that I was supposed to be the moon.” you mumble.

Eren laughs, as he shakes his head and gestures for you to spin around. You oblige, moving your hair to the side and feeling your cheeks heat up as the paparazzi snap what feels like hundreds of pictures – of Eren clasping the necklace and then pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. His voice comes out as a whisper on your skin as he pulls you closer to him, the two of you posing for the picture.

“I mean, Marco was always a big fan of immature jokes. So I guess it does?” Eren states.

You widen your eyes as you press your fingers to the charm, realizing what it means.

Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn.

The last time that you were at the Met Gala was when you performed with Marco. You can feel warm tears accumulating in your eyes as Eren cups the side of your cheek, a soft smile on his face. He taps the little pin on the lapel of his jacket, a matching little saturn charm as you bite down on your cheeks and smile back.

“He’s here with us. Haunting us from his grave like he promised.” Eren jokes.

You give Eren a teary laugh.

“Yeah. I think he is too.”

You lean your head against Eren’s shoulder, as the two of you walk straight up the stairs into the venue. There’s a glimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the stage decorated a sparkling silver.

“Do you have a Maya Angelou quote for me? She always was Marco’s favorite.”

Eren smiles.

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refused to be reduced by it.” Eren states.

Falco and Colt are the ones by your side backstage. You can feel your hands shaking, throwing the mic from one hand to the other, as the two of them lean their heads against yours.

You’re performing for the first time in years. Since you performed the grudge, at that godawful awards show years ago.

You choose to use the wall of pictures as a distraction. One of your favorite things about performing at the Met was that they took pictures of each of the performers and pasted them to the big walls behind the curtains. People would sign the walls, the pictures themselves – to mark that they had performed here, to immortalize themselves on the wall.

And it takes a few seconds, but you find the picture dead center. Of you and Marco. The two of you are hugging each other, cheeks pressed together with pink, teary eyes, with your names scribbled in Marco’s loopy handwriting underneath.

seven by y/n l/n ft marco bodt

And directly next to it, is a picture you’ve never seen before. Of Eren and Marco – their hands clasped together – and the same loopy handwriting underneath with the song.

“He didn’t want to take that picture. He…he made me do it. Said he should still remember the moment, even if he wasn’t at his best.” Armin states.

“Oh. Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Just checking you’re okay. First time performing and all that. And I was back here with you the last time this happened too.” Armin murmurs.

You smile, lacing your hand through his as you both stare at the pictures of Marco and you wrap your arms around Armin at the first sound of his sniffling.

“Well, this is hardly about me performing, Armin.” you mumble.

Armin gives you a watery laugh, before pulling back and wiping the wetness on his face away.

You frown as you lightly dig your elbow into his side, trying to gesture him into talking.

You were a little harsh when you talked to him last – when you had to convince him to finally forgive Eren. You regretted it after, being so rigid and forcing him into it, but you figured direction was what Armin needed at the time.

“Marco said that even though that moment was bad for Eren, that even though he felt like he was never going to recover, there would be a day that he looked back on it and would relish in the fact that it was never going to be like that again. I hate the fact that Eren’s probably having that moment right now and shit is still so awkward between us that I can’t even tell him that I’m happy for him.” Armin murmurs.

You stare at the pictures.

“I didn’t realize you were…with Eren that day.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I called him a lot after the whole Girlfriend thing, he was kind of convinced that we all hated him. And I did the same when the whole Satellite Port thing happened too.”

Armin pauses.

“I was always there for him, until I wasn’t. And I feel like I’m fucking groveling but things still won’t be the same between us.”

“Well, don’t lose hope about that. Mikasa and I-”

“You and Mikasa are different. You’re…you overlook things easier than we do. Mikasa wanted you to be her maid of honor again after you said you wanted to sleep in her room – just because she realized you still loved her. Even if Eren knew I loved him, I doubt that would fix what happened with us.”

You lean your head against your shoulder.

“Did you finish the script yet, Armin?” you whisper.

“What?”

“Did you finish it?”

“Yeah.”

You look over at him and smile.

“That last conversation? Between your character and his? He wrote that all on his own. It’s obviously a little bit more dramatic than he intends it but…the premise is still there. You and him, still best friends at the end of it.”

Armin looks back at the pictures, running his hands through his hair, and ruining any semblance of styling in his golden locks.

“You think Marco would be pissed at us? All of us?” Armin mumbles.

“No. I know he would have loved to seen us all reconcile. That he would have been really happy for us.”

Falco and Colt give you a gesture over your shoulder, as you shoo Armin back to his seat, and readjust the feathers on the sleeves of your dress. You give Colt a smile as he hands you the last piece of the outfit, the glittery garter belt that you wrap over your thigh as you take your cue.

Eren gives you props for hundreds of things, but this one specifically. It was hard to find something that you were bad at, since it felt that you were naturally skilled at everything, but when he watched you, like this, he couldn’t help but feel like you were born for it.

You really knew how to put on a performance.

It’s pitch black, leave for your purple silhouette against the back of the stage. Of your fingers running across the neck of the guitar, playing the opening notes to the song Maki requested days prior – that you named Style.

Midnight You come and pick me up, no headlights Long drive Could end in burning flames or paradise Fade into view, oh It's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I Know exactly where it leads, but I Watch us go 'round and 'round each time

Eren watches as you pause, the entire backtrack and music stopping, as the entire crowd jumps to his feet and starts hollering for you when they finally shine the lights on you. Eren watches as you give everyone a little wave, pressing your hands to your cheeks unable to contain your smile before you gesture for everyone to be quiet so you can keep singing.

And feels his chest fill with immense pride as you walk all the way down the stage, fingers fast and smiling from ear to ear as you sing again. He can’t help but feel embarrassed as the group of them – Connie, Reiner, and Jean – start smacking him on the back, screaming about how crazy his girl was.

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

When you reach the end of the stage, Eren watches as you slightly trip on your steps, before averting your eyes down to your leg. In the mess of walking and the notches on the guitar, a part of your stockings had ripped.

Eren was impressed that you were still singing, as you reached down and took the halves of the garter belt in your hands, before you started looking out in the audience. And Eren can’t help but feel like in that moment, that some divine power might actually be real.

Because three years ago, it was Hyla’s birthday and he was stuck at a dinner table thinking about you. About how he’d never feel that rush, that thrilling electricity that seemed to thrum in his veins whenever you looked at him.

And he knows for a fact that really, it almost has to be real – a higher power that was looking out for him the entire time. Because years after the fact, he’s sitting here, blushing profusely as you throw the garter belt to him to catch, before you like down on the stage and scream your heart out.

To a song that you wrote about him.

Take me home Just take me home Yeah, just take me home Oh, whoa, oh (Out of style)

Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

“Ethan Cole! You’re just the person I wanted to see.” you state.

Fresh off of the performance, with the little note card tucked in your hand, he’s the first person that you beeline towards.

On first impression, he’s younger than Scott Clarkson by a landslide – beachy, golden hair as he stands from his share to take your extended hand.

“Y/N L/N! Quite the performance up there, my daughter is a huge fan. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ethan asks.

You give the girl at his side a warm smile, the girl barely above the age of fifteen, as you turn back to him.

“You know, I’ve really missed doing romantic comedies. I’ve heard that’s your forté,” you state.

“Is that right?”

“As fun as Attack on Titan can be, the drama can…be a little draining. I would love to get behind you if you produced a romantic comedy that I could star in.”

You watch as he pinches his smile, eyes strained as he looks around the room.

“I’m not sure how keen…some people at the company would be about that.” Ethan murmurs.

“Who said you had to do it with them?” you state.

“Huh?”

You give him the best, most sickly sweet smile that you muster. “Who said…you have to do it with him?”

You pull the little note card out of your backpocket, with your phone number scribbled over the top, and hand it to him.

“You could easily produce it on your own. And if it was a star studded movie, you could avoid the risks of being associated as a start-up all together.” you state.

Ethan pauses, for a while.

“My own company?”

“That’s right. You’re young, younger than your competition, and with how things have been going lately…I’m doubt they’ll stay afloat longer. If I were you, I’d capitalize on the fact that your own competition is about to be eliminated.” you state.

You can tell that he almost doesn’t believe you.

“I’ll have to think about it.” Ethan states.

“Sure thing, Ethan. If the situation was right, I could even be persuaded to get some of my….friends to join. And I know you’re a smart guy – there’s some publicity that other people couldn’t even dream of buying.”

You spare a glance over your shoulder to Eren at the stage with Lana, as she takes her seat at the piano and Eren begins adjusting the microphone at the stand.

“I look forward to talking to you, Ethan.”

And you give him a sickly sweet smile before you walk away. You settle back into your seat next to Levi and Connie – who had decided to take Eren’s open seat while he performed.

“How did it go?” Levi asks.

“He didn’t buy it.” you state.

Levi gives you a terse nod, as you shake your head and readjust your seat to face the stage. Connie pulls his seat up right next to yours, the two of you giving each other a smile as you link your arms together and lean your head against his shoulder.

“It’s your song!” you whisper.

Connie leans his head on top of yours, voice quiet as Lana starts playing the piano.

“It’s actually not. It’s even worse.”

“Huh?”

You lift your head off of his shoulder to eye him, and he only smiles, deviously, in return.

“Let’s just say if it was my birthday today, I’d commit a murder after this.”

You turn back to the stage, eyeing the little star decals hanging from the little ceiling, and watch as Eren nervously shakes his hands, before placing them on the mic stand. He turns to his left, giving the group of you a smile, before he starts.

“I wrote this song exactly five years ago today when I was twenty. I was stuck at a birthday party, with a bunch of people I hated, and all I could think about was how I just wished that I was somewhere else. And really, I was hoping that the person that I really wanted beside me, had some semblance of that feeling about me too. This is my new song, it’s called Glimpse of Us.”

When you're out of sight In my mind

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

Eren always claimed that singing was never his forté and even from the way he moved – you could tell that he clearly felt more comfortable when he was acting. That he most definitely believed that his talents lied on a set rather than on a stage.

And for maybe the hundredth time, it’s clear that Eren’s own visions of himself have clearly limited him.

Because he’s beautiful.

The stage design makes it look like he’s suspended in the sky, in between the moon and the stars, and the lack of production to the song – the fact that it’s just his voice and Lana’s fingers on the piano is chilling.

It reminds you of that song that he wrote for you on the beach.

Eren dislodges the microphone from the stand, tossing Lana a smile over his shoulder, before he walks directly to the edge of the stage that’s closest to you and Connie. And uses his hand to gesture for you to come closer, as he takes a seat and dangles his legs off the edge of the stage.

You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as you pull your chair closer to the stage, right until you’re looking up at Eren from your little seat and he’s looking down at you. And as he sings, he reaches down and places one of his hands on your cheek – the biting cold of the rings on his fingers cooling the warmth on your cheek – but doing nothing to help the burning in your chest from his dark green eyes, filled with such warmth and sincerity that it makes your heart race.

You bring your own hand up to where his is on your cheek and he gives you a dimpled smile in return.

When he finishes, you press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and try to memorize the way the smile spreads across his face.

Your last chance to convince this cowardly idiot Ethan Cole to agree with you guys is at the afterparty for the Met Gala, which coincidentally, you’ve never attended.

The last time you were here, the entire ordeal was so draining – considering it was the first time that you had seen Eren since you broke up and you were here with Ricky – that you just skipped the party afterwards and went home. And you would have done the same thing now, since your hair was feeling sticky and your legs felt like lead from the heels, but you had to give it one last shot before you left.

You had taken Mikasa and Jean’s lead, and decided to take four shots with them, by the time the party was in full swing. And right before the fifth, Eren suddenly materialized after being missing for the first half of the party and slipped it away from your nimble fingers and downed it himself.

“Are you drinking?” he asks, shaking his head from the burn, before handing the glass back to Jean.

“Well, obviously not if you’re taking my glass.”

Eren reaches forward, fingers on the little ribbon around your neck, before you smack his hand off.

“I like the outfit. It’s like the scarf from the show.”

“That’s the point.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes as you both lean back against the wall, eyeing the crowd of people in front of you.

“You should have told me. I would have matched.” Eren states.

“How are you supposed to match? Your costume on set doesn’t have something as…obvious like the scarf.”

“I would have just done the titan marks and called it a day.” Eren mumbles back.

You nod, mulling over the idea, as you reach for the back hanging around your shoulder. And luckily for you, your lipstick is still in the bag – though most of the time, the bags that you have on red carpets have literally nothing on them – and instruct him to crouch so you can reach. He obliges, flashing you a smile, as you intently focus on drawing the lines under his eyes.

Eren takes the distraction – the focus that you have from drawing on his face – and uses it to observe you.

“Did you like my song?” Eren asks.

“You’re insane. Did you really write that five years ago or did you make that up?” you whisper.

“Nope. I wrote it after the last Met Gala, I think Hyla’s birthday was like a week or two after that.” he mumbles back.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, what you were hoping was actually true. When I was at that Met Gala, I really just wished that I was with you, sitting with the rest of the cast.”

Eren laughs.

“Who said the song was about you?” Eren jokes.

You pause, only to look up to glare at him, before you lightly shove him. And you can tell that he’s joking but it’s still irritating.

“You’re such a dick, sometimes.”

“You were thinking about me?” Eren responds, closing his hand around yours and snatching the little tube of lipstick from your hand.

He lifts his phone up, looking at the reflection from the screen of his phone, as he messily finishes off the marks on the other side, more messy and jagged. And as annoying as he is, it’s extremely attractive when he does it – capping the lipstick and curling it back into the palm of your hand.

“You wish.” you respond.

Eren leans against the wall and you join him at his side, the two of you eyeing Ethan Cole at the end of the hall, with Ricky and Hyla posted up on the other side. You can’t help but seethe with anger as you watch the two of them together, curling your hands into little fists at your side.

“I saw that video that was going around on Twitter a little while ago. Of you and Ricky, last time you were here.” Eren responds.

“What video?”

“It was on the red carpet. He like…grabbed your arm and shoved you.” Eren clarifies.

“Oh! That’s right. He was trying to introduce me to John and I said some crap about him to Historia. Then, he got all pissed saying that I had to be nice to him or whatever since he was nice to you guys.” you respond.

Levi and Hange walk up to the pair of you, arms linked together, as you straighten up. The two of them had weary eyes, focused on Eren, as they look around.

“Eren. He’s here.”

“Who’s here?” you ask.

“Scott Clarkson. He just walked in – guess he’s not deciding to skip after all.” Hange responds.

Eren leans forward, angling his head over the crowd of the people, towards the opening at the front of the hallway and feels his throat turn to sandpaper. Eren clenching his fists so hard that he’s sure he’s drawing blood, the entirety of the conversation almost lost to him as he feels himself nearly losing balance on his legs.

“You’re free to leave, Eren. We have a car ready for you. If you want to stay, we’re here with you.” Hange states.

You look around to the other side of the room to find Connie talking to a group of people, none of which you knew. Mikasa and Jean are a few feet away – but clearly drunk out of their mind – and you can’t seem to find anyone else who could stay with him. You jerk your head back, to the two of them.

“Listen. I’ve got Eren. Could you guys check that Connie’s going to be fine?”

Hange and Levi turn their heads to the side, giving you a nod, as they speed walk to the other side of the room and you link your arm in with Eren’s. He’s still staring at the other side of the room and you lightly tug on his arm to catch his attention, his eyes almost dazed when he looks at you.

“Sorry. Did Hange and Levi say something?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. We can leave if you want to, there’s a car and everything.”

“No…no, we didn’t talk to Ethan Cole yet. And, it’s fine.” Eren responds, shaking his head.

It’s not that Eren’s exactly scared of Scott Clarkson, though there was a point in time that he most certainly would be. It’s more that he’s intimidated by what could go down, because while Eren knows that he isn’t exactly being swayed by him anymore, it’s a debilitating reminder every time he makes a comment that sends Eren tumbling back down.

“Lana and Sukuna are together. I sent Hange and Levi to check on Connie. And I’m here with you, so…so all the bases are covered.” you respond.

Eren smiles.

“You’re here with me? What are you going to do?”

“Punch him in the face.” you respond.

Eren laughs.

“Are you crazy?”

“Do I look like a comedian to you?” you ask Eren.

“You look more like a clown to me.”

You feel your eyes widen, as you turn to your side and find Hyla and Ricky standing right to the left of you and Eren. You’re not sure what it is, but Eren suddenly squared his shoulders back, muscles tense at the sight of them.

“Do you need something?” Eren asks.

Hyla rolls her eyes as she looks at Eren, before turning back to you. And her eyes flicker to the necklace around your neck, before she looks back up at you and smiles.

“Cute necklace!”

Eren grins at your side. They took the bait.

“Do you like it, Ricky? It’s custom Tiffany. I had it made special for Y/N myself.” Eren asks.

You watch as Ricky furrows his brow, slightly clenching his jaw and nearly pink in the face, as he rolls his eyes in response – very clearly understanding the reference.

“I don’t know where the fuck you think you get off, Eren. Need I remind you, that while I was at the top of my fucking career you were cleaning up a baby’s diapers.”

You watch as Eren’s eye twitches, knuckles white at his side as he doesn’t respond. And it only gets more agitating since Ricky clearly gets off on the fact that Eren refuses to fight back, and takes it as an invitation to keep going.

“Seriously, dude. You started at the fucking top of the food chain – your parents are literally Grisha and Carla Jaeger – and yet you’re slumming it with Lana and Sukuna. Lana’s quite literally the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t pretend like you’re both not trying to get your five minutes of fame by talking about me. And don’t even get me started on how pathetic Sukuna is for what he said in that dumbass documentary the two of you made. Donating to sexual assault victims won’t fix a lack of talent.”

“Where do you get-”

“Y/N.” Eren states, silencing you all together.

“That’s right, Eren. You better keep my sloppy seconds-”

Ricky doesn’t get to finish the statement, because Eren’s punched him in the face. Not once, not twice, but three times to the point where he’s tackled him onto the floor, a bright red decorating his knuckles.

“Y/N. What the fuck? Get him to stop!”

You know that it’s petty. That maybe if you were a little bit of a better person, you actually would have asked Eren to stop. But Ricky James was quite literally the worst person you had ever met and deep down, there wasn’t even a single part of him that didn’t deserve what he was getting right now.

You crouch down on your knees, Eren momentarily stopping to look at you, before you shake your head and look down at him.

“I’m so sorry, Ricky. I don’t think I can do that right now.”

Eren smiles, as he lands one more punch, before a very drunk Jean and Reiner are able to pull him off – Maki and Pieck at your sides as they rub into the softness of your arms. You shake your head, signaling to them that you were fine, as Eren looks over at you over the accumulating crowd of people, and gives you a gesture. You nod, as Eren extends his hand out to you, and the two of you walk to the other side of the room. You eye the blood on Eren’s hand, all Ricky’s you’re sure, as Eren stops at the table and starts filling the cups with the lemonade.

“We need a drink.” Eren states.

“That’s what got you pissed off, Eren? When he started talking bad on my name?” you mumble.

“I love your name.” Eren defends.

You smile.

“Though, I always felt like it’s missing something.” Eren adds.

You roll your eyes.

“And what’s that, huh?”

“My last name.” Eren responds.

Eren watches as a blush creeps over your cheeks and try not to laugh when you mutter something that sounds an awful lot like fuck you under your breath as he passes you one of the glasses of lemonade. Which is right when Lana comes up and snatches the glass from his hand and slams it down on the table.

“Are you a fucking idiot, Eren?” Lana seethes.

“What?” Eren responds, giving her an annoyed shrug back as he takes the glass back and hands you one.

“You promised, Eren.” Sukuna responds.

“You two can get your panties out of a twist. I didn’t break any promises.”

“Do you think I’m blind, Eren?” Lana asks.

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans down, bringing his face closer to Lana’s. It’s the same thing that Colt does to you – on the rare occasions that he’s able to prove you wrong.

“You made me promise that if Ricky said anything about Teddy or you, I wouldn’t say anything. And Sukuna made me promise that if Ricky said anything about him, I wouldn’t do anything, because it would upset you.” Eren states.

That’s why he didn’t say anything.

“Our princess over here didn’t force me to make any promises like that. So the second he called her sloppy seconds, I did what I had to do.” Eren responds.

Lana’s eyes widen, as she turns her head to you.

“What a dick. Are you okay?” Lana asks.

“I’m fine. He said worse about you guys, I wanted to punch him myself.”

Eren smiles, as he leans down to look at you.

“Too bad. He’s getting escorted out on his ass now, so you lost your chance.” Eren responds, pointing towards the door.

And surely enough, the security are taking him out with his hands secured behind his back – no thanks to the obscene screaming he’s doing – while Hyla looks maybe the most irritated you’ve ever seen before. She spares you one last glance, to which you and Eren respond with glimmering smiles, before she walks out.

Lana gestures towards the bathrooms as Eren follows, presumably to wash his hands, leaving you and Sukuna by the table, nursing the little glasses of lemonade in your hands. And wordlessly, you extend your glass out to Sukuna – and thank your lucky stars that he understands – as he pulls the little flask from the pocket and pours it into your drink and then his.

“Eren’s been waiting for that one.” Sukuna states.

“I’m shocked you haven’t.” you respond.

“Maybe before. But you know, with the kid, you have to be a good role model and all that. Plus, I hate when Lana lectures me because she gets really mean.”

You snort.

“I’d be scared of her too.” you respond.

“Speaking of scared, how many drinks until he falls off?” Sukuna asks, pointing to the left.

You follow his line of vision to find Yuuji standing on top of the bar, tie loosely hanging around his neck and pink in the face with Satoru, as he sings along to the music playing from the speakers.

“Which one are you talking about? I think they’re both well past that point.” you respond.

“Yuuji, obviously. I’m going to stop him before he ends up on a headline.” Sukuna responds.

“You have fun with that. I’ll watch from over here.” you respond, as Sukuna walks away.

When you scan the room for Ethan Cole, you find that he’s already looking at you. You give him a polite wave, positive that whatever Eren just did with Ricky James must have swayed him some type of way, as you lean back against the edge of the table. And the table dips slightly under you, nearly making you spill the glass of lemonade, when you find Scott Clarkson leaning against at your side, his beady eyes fixed on you.

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m so glad you were finally able to learn my name.” you respond.

Scott clicks his tongue in his cheek, before extending his hand out to shake it at you. You begrudgingly oblige, skin curling with disgust as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, and leans back.

“I’ll admit, I had you pegged all wrong in the beginning. But I’m sure that you can understand, it can be so hard to trust new and upcoming talent like that when you run a big company.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” you deadpan.

“I think we should let bygones be bygones. I even think that we could be useful to one another. If you really wanted full ownership of your albums back, I could get it for you. Just a few movies, here and there, and they’d be back in your hands.”

You feel your throat dry.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I’m sure you know I am well acquainted with Danny and Sareen. I’m sure I could persuade them, after a little give and take.”

You thank the heavens that the stylists had stacked each of your fingers with a perfect set of silver rings. You sure it made it hurt even more when you slapped him across the face.

“You have some nerve, you asshole. Don’t even think about-”

You feel a set of arms on your biceps, squeezing hard, as you turn your head to find Levi at your side. You shake your head, turning back to Scott, who no whas a group of people around him, inspecting the red mark you’ve left on his cheek.

“Levi. Fucking, get off.”

“This is not the time for this. You and Eren are leaving, you’ve had too much to drink.” Levi responds, pushing you out into the cold air outside the hall and near the taxi.

Eren’s leaning against the car door and he quickly jumps up at the sound of your voice, meeting Levi at your side.

“Did you hit him, Y/N? They’re saying that you hit him.”

“I slapped him.”

Eren pinches his mouth into a line.

“Did he hit back?” Eren asks.

“What? No. Levi started yanking me off of him before I could get another one in.”

Eren passes Levi a thankful smile, before ducking your head into the taxi, and tuning back into your rambling.

“He’s such a dick. He fucking had that coming, trying to offer me a career like I don’t know who he is and what he fucking does. Like really, even down to being an opportunist, does he really think I care about my album that was already stolen from me over all of my friends? Over you? I think he’s a psychopath and we didn’t even get to solidify the deal with Ethan Cole or-”

“Okay, Y/N. Relax. It’s-”

“We have to do something to get his attention. Something crazy. I have an idea but…you have to follow my lead, okay?”

Eren’s slightly hesitant. Only because he can tell that you really are tipsy from the light pink tint in your cheeks and the way that you’re shaking your legs. But he hates to tell you no, especially when you’re staring at him so expectantly, waiting for an answer.

And when you drag Eren into a sweaty tattoo parlor, Eren realizes that maybe you’re well past tipsy.

“I technically picked what we did last time, Eren. So it’s your turn. Just make sure it’s something like…fucking crazy. Like iconic.”

Eren has an idea. But he can’t say it. Because you can’t possibly get that tattooed. And he’s sure that it’s showing on his face, because now you’re giving him an excited smile, jumping up and down on your feet waiting for him to tell.

“Oh my god. What is it? Tell me right now.”

“Uh. The moon and the ocean.” Eren responds.

You frown.

“We already basically have that as a tattoo, Eren. With the fish? And I can tell that’s not what you were going to say.” you respond.

Eren sighs.

“Y/N. It’s too much.”

“Nothing’s too much! Come on, it’s you and me that we’re talking about. We got fucking matching tattoos when we were like eighteen and released songs about quite literally fucking each other on the same day! We can get a crazy tattoo!”

“You’re so crass when you’re drunk, Y/N.”

“The word Levi used was homicidal.” you respond.

Eren sighs, as he tells you his idea, and watches your face light up. And after the fact, Eren can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the world.

Because for a second time now – the two of you are running down the streets, bathed in the dim lamplight and laughing into the night. Matching tattoos of each other’s names on the inside of your lips, a confession on the tips of your tongues like you were two soulmates destined to be together.

That’s the moment you’re able to coin it.

You’re head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger. Again. Maybe even worse, more desperately than the first time.

And as the perfect cherry on top, Ethan Cole sends you a message confirming the deal the following morning.

next part linked here

an: are you catching my hint for the songs in our next chapter.....which is an AWARDS SHOW CHAPTER ARE WE READY. and don't worry....scott clarkson and danny/sareen welcome to your tape...this next chapter is for you

(pls tell me someone gets the pussy joke that megumi made and that im not just horrendously chronically online)

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

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familyagrestefanblog · 11 months

Text

There is this ongoing thing with Adrien drawing back from kissing Marinette all the time, which at this point in "Collution" doesnt make sense anymore as him just 'backing out'. "Emotion" too brought this up already as legitimate issue Adrinette is going through that after the ending of "Adoration" every single time Adrinette tried to kiss, Adrien stopped it and even ran away.

This is a great opportunity for me to FINALLY talk about this massive subtext plot that started for real with the end of "Adoration" but up til now I didn't know from which angle I should approach an analysis post about it. This kissing detail being back and visually more elaborated on is EXACTLY what I needed!

In "Collusion" we see that Adrien's facial expression looks like as if an older order put in him is lighting up for a second preventing him from kissing her:

I mean, the shot composition is even purposfully leading your eyes towards Adrien's head with the background wall for example. It's clear who you're supposed to focus on the most.

"Emotion" already implied it through dialog but "Collusion" now pretty much proves that the one time on-screen we saw Adrien draw back from Marinette in "Emotion" wasn't merely caused by the damn phone (although this isnt the first time something weird happens with Adrien's phone this season) or an order somehow given in real time as one would assume, every single time after "Adoration" where Adrinette tried to kiss, Adrien seems to be stopped by an order Gabriel gave him after Gabriel turned Adrien into a puppet in the end scene and Marinette was so worried about if Adrien might be in danger in his home, but tried to remain hopeful:

This is something I figured for a while now. That we were supposed to feel exactly what Marinette is feeling here. She has no idea if Gabriel is doing something to Adrien and if its bad. She is the the outside person, she doesnt know whats happening in that house and she can't help Adrien once he's in it alone with his father. All she can do is hoping that there is another explaination.

Though that turns out to be wishful-thinking, because "Emotion" in fact has already told us that Gabriel did something to Adrien on this evening in "Adoration" after Adrien was forced back inside and Gabriel kept on and on twisting and using the ring while creeping backwards where WE know exactly that Adrien has just returned inside. They would have met in the foyer.

There is nothing far-fetched about a conversation having taken place once Marinette was gone and in my opinion it feels more like wishful denial to say that Gabriel 100% totally did not go to talk to his son. I mean, Adrinette was straight up about to have their first kiss right in Gabriel's view and that right after the events of "Protection", the episode right before "Adoration":

Re-enforcing to Adrien through harsher means to not be in a relationship with Marinette seems like a fitting punishment order Gabriel would pull after "Adoration's" horror show ending.

Give me a logical reason for why that wouldnt have been a realistic thing to happen? A reason that please isnt rooted in the logic of "we didnt see it when we followed Marinette's pov and therefore nothing happened". Cause I sure followed Marinette's pov and she ended this episode very alarmed and concerned.

Alarmed and concerned for a very good reason. The entirety of "Emotion" then goes on and on and ON about asking WHY Adrien is acting so weird and WHY he hasn't told Marinette about the Diamond Ball:

This question is a central theme all through the entire episode, and in the end the truth about Adrien's silence gets revealed.

Marinette herself has no idea and everyone else in this episode is also just giving their best guess of what makes the most sense for them. But that doesn't mean anybody actually got this right. And we know that because in the end Adrien outright SAYS that he didnt mention it because his father ORDERED him not to:

And then Adrien's and Gabriel's father son talk elaborates on that further from Gabriel's perspective:

I don't know what to tell you, it's right THERE. Adrien did not tell Marinette because Gabriel forbit it. It was an order Adrien couldnt go up against because it explicitly stated that Adrien is not allowed to tell Marinette specifically about the Diamond Ball. And as we saw in "Emotion" this order manifested in Adrien panicking around Marinette and lying in a way that at least somewhat still contained the truth:

I really find it upsetting when people victim-blame Adrien for not rebelling and "being brave" the way Félix and Kagami do (or even worse, compare him to Marinette who isnt a Sentihuman at all) because unlike them Adrien is not wearing his own amok AND is unfortunate enough to have both his parental figures wear them, so of course there are alot of direct interactions.

But if that one moment in "Collusin", where Adrien talks back at his father, indeed showcased Nathalie giving Adrien the means to really fight back for a moment by having laid her ring hand on Adrien's so one of his amoks would for the first time touch his skin and making it possible to nullify Gabriel's order depending on how passionately Adrien is against it, then this was a first taste of what Adrien would be like if he were given full control over himself:

Nathalie did that on purpose to protect Adrien from Gabriel and enable him to choose his own happiness as Emilie wished, which is what we saw moments before:

Adrien in "Emotion" and "Pretention" was not a 'coward', that is such disgusting victim-blaming against a person who is literally mind-controlled by their parent without even knowing it for their entire life. It's like giving Kagami shit for giving her amok back to her mother when Tomoe demands it, as if Kagami KNOWS that her ring holds her entire mental and physical autonomy. These poor children have it horrible enough being literally almost enslaved to their parents demands from the day they were born for some sort of sick purpose. Cool that Marinette doesn't have that problem at all and Félix doesn't have it anymore so THEY are able to do whatever they want, but they have no business being held as the golden standard.

This is about Kagami and Adrien who are still being taken advantage of and lied to ever since birth from the people who are supposed to love and protect them. Yes, they act weird and nerve-wreckingly sometimes and in ways that apparently dissappoints you because - of course - if you were a Sentihuman half enslaved and kept in the dark by your parent you would just choose to not have those problems, no biggie, but unfortunately Adrien and Kagami arent you.

They're weird and frustrated. Weird, frustrated, exhausted and abused little half-slaves, left in the dark and still minors so they cant escape anyway.

These things matter.

DETAILS matter.

Details like between the ending of "Adoration" and "Emotion" the episode has Marinette tell us that there was a time skip we didnt see in which Adrien has been acting very weird:

New and suspicious extremes MATTER.

Gabriel crossed a massive line by turning Adrien into a literal puppet at the end of "Adoration" seemingly for the first time from a further distance, since this seems to be the first time THIS happened in Adrien's head:

The fact alone that this was the instance where Gabriel crossed such a fundamental line is already a give-away that whatever is about to follow from Gabriel as Adrien's father from this moment onwards will be on an even more extreme layer of abusive. Which we know to be true from all the episodes afterwards.

But even if you wanna ignore all that, Marinette is then increasingly more worried about Adrien's safety in his home and everything regarding his father and has to truly face for the first time her underlying fear of "what if Gabriel isnt just a bad father?" and "What if Adrien is even being hurt in some way?" although she tried to approach it from deflecting angles until Gabriel talked to her in "Pretention".

But more and more Marinette is learning in what hellhole Adrien has been living in for all his life.

Because, you know, that is the case with highly abusive parents and its something one very likely has to face when one enteres a relationship. This is perfectly realistic, just the abuse method is fantasy. Something the show is not yet letting any of the children besides Félix know yet.

But we KNOW that Adrien is a Sentihuman at his abusive father's mercy and "Emotion" tells us that Marinette's concern at the end of "Adoration" was correct. Gabriel DID do something to Adrien but we, just like Marinette, couldnt fully see it because the biggest portion of the abuse happened behind closed doors as most abuse does. And Marinette, just like us, was left wondering what just happened to Adrien when she saw something disturbing happen to him which may stand in connection to his father.

And she, just like us, asks herself if he's even safe living with this man (no he isnt) when THIS is what happend to Adrien just being near his home and father:

And just like Marinette WE were supposed to find Adrien's silence after this concerning. Marinette read this correctly but she doesnt know yet how to properly interpret all of Adrien's types of silence and the family contexts surrounding it.

Adrien didnt tell Marinette about the Diamond Ball because Gabriel silenced his son, something that Adrien himself wouldnt properly recognize as such and only blames himself for as a failure on his part.

Who cares what the other characters' guesses are for why he didnt say anything? The only two people who truly know why Adrien didnt tell her are Adrien and Gabriel themselves because that's the abusive parent and his abused child. And that's the truth Marinette should be after. Not the one she prefers to be true and she is finally making good progress on that front.

And we can take the silencing in "Emotion" even further, because that wasn't the only time skip + silencing situation we had.

Just like in between "Adoration" and "Emotion", there is yet another significant time skip very cleverly handled - and almost hidden - between "Emotion" and "Pretention". We know that there is a time skip because once again Adrinette tells us:

Honestly, no doubt they will go back to these important time skips in season 6 or 7, there is so much important Marinette development for her love-related anxiety alone deliberately skipped before and after "Emotion" because of what it was entangled with. Not to mention everything else!

Optional rant ahead, I need to get this out of my system for a second: "Emotion" still barely makes sense and dont get me started on Félix! When do you think he fell in love with and stalked Kagami besides in the time skip? He wasnt in love with her before he found out at the diamond ball that she's like him, he probably barely made anything of her when he thought her to be a "normal human". Kagami and Marinette were not part of Felix' plan, Kagami he only just found out is a sentihuman too and therefore deserving of concideration for him, and Marinette wasnt even supposed to be there!

I swear, "Emotion" and the time skips before and afterwards are driving me crazy. I have to make a seperate post for the Felix and Amilie stuff alone and Adrien too was just plain weird in that episode with no proper explaination besides for the little amout that was required to make this work for Marinette's outsider perspective who doesnt know what's going on inside those families anyway. Félix apparently was gone for WEEKS and apparently both Adrien and Kagami knew that because they werent surprised hearing that and neither Gabriel nor Tomoe seemed to care that Amilie went off on Gabriel about it in infront of their children.

Félix was gone for weeks. Adrien knew it. And then we see Adrien immediately recognizing Félix as peacock miraculous holder even despite the magic; not being too surprised seeing Felix there transformed and AT ALL when he should be missing and is willing to go to him in a friendly enough and trusting manner despite that being weird too with no context! Félix is a completely new person who suddenly is aware that Adrien has always been a victim caught in a hellhole with Gabriel and what the fuck was that fake miraculous ring from Adrien Felix had?

Screw you, something happened there in this time skip before "Emotion" and we only got to see the tip of the ice berg! And screw this show for barely giving context for anything in "Emotion" yet because we are stuck with Marinette as main character and Adrien didnt wanted to involve her in his family shit because why would he?

*GROAN* I'm turning grey because of this damn show...

ANYWAY

What "Pretention" does very cleverly is picking up the same character goals established at the end of "Emotion" prior and starting this episode with it. But that doesnt mean at all that this is the next day. NOTHING about what Adrinette tells us about how Gabriel now breathes down their necks makes sense if this is merely the next day:

It's at the very least a couple of days and that's being VERY generous. I'm personally putting it at one week. That would mean Gabriel is being increasingly more of an ass for one school week where Adrinette has to get more and more creative (and Adrien ending up knowing when his father is busy) and at the beginning of the second Marinette has had it. One week is also a perfectly reasonable timeframe for the kids to put off talking to Gabriel and Tomoe while its also a realistic point in time where you would draw the line and motivate yourself again to finally do it.

Kagami's dialogue is the factor that very cleverly tricks the audience into thinking it can just be the next day since Kagami is "oh so much braver than Adrien who doesnt dare to talk to his father", which the episode then subverts by showing that Kagami rightfully fears her mother too and shouldnt be concidered less for it because Tomoe is an abusive hardass too who Kagami needs to be protected from as (her) child and Sentihuman who doesnt know she is one & the end of "Emotion" literally showed us Adrien talking to his father right after he told Marinette that he would try to convince him to have a heart-to-heart with her to clear up whatever he has against her:

Adrien did NOT fail to talk to his father after he said he would because we saw him do it right away. What he did "fail" to do though was mentioning towards the girls that he already talked with his father and tell them what Gabriel said - though that's understandable, Gabriel is being an irrational fuck; blaming the fiasco on Marinette when it's realistically on Félix - and to convince his father to talk to Marinette. But even for this Adrien's on-screen talk with Gabriel has the explaination for:

Did you pick up on the pattern too? That as well was an explicit order from Gabriel with the ring.

Adrien in "Pretention" didnt 'manage' to talk to his father again about him and Marinette so they can have a heart-to-heart because prior to that Gabriel forbit Adrien through an order to ever mention Marinette towards him again (and that means, since Adrinette didnt talk to Gabriel yet, Kagami in turn put off talking to her mother too)

So of course Adrien couldnt do it, which is why he went along with the only option he subconciously felt like he had left. Bringing Marinette to his father so SHE can talk to him by his side, forcing his father into a corner. Adrien unknowingly loopholed himself and out of Gabriel's order that's literally silencing him.

Details, time skips and circumstances matter.

So to bring this back to the failed Adrinette kissing in "Collution":

I'm pretty sure that from the ending of "Adoration" onwards we are now going to see a further and further escalation of ways for Gabriel to enforce his power over Adrien. Regularly just as his father (which is already bad enough) and also the ways in which Gabriel can hurt Adrien through the amok ring

- but in ways he can for now at least somewhat still hide from Nathalie, though no doubt this is going to end BADLY where even Nathalie cant help Adrien anymore as it was already established that Gabriel can absolutely do that and still cross so many more lines-

and in "Emotion" that already included silencing Adrien from letting Marinette know about the Diamond Ball and then not letting him talk about Marinette to him at all (for which I'm quite sure Nathalie touching Adrien with the amok ring in "Collution" helped Adrien break through that barrier because that WAS the first time he really talked ABOUT Marinette towards Gabriel since "Emotion" that isnt just him mentioning her name in logical situations or vaguely talking around the relationship topic like in "Pretention").

But I'm also betting that Gabriel odered Adrien to not kiss Marinette after he puppeteered Adrien back into the mansion in "Adoration" or some other variation of an official grand gesture that Adrien is in a relationship with her. Something that... yeah, DID indeed stop after "Protection", didn't it? (Ooh. That explains why the date was made such a big deal for Adrien's story through the parallels to Gabriel's and Emilie's date in the past in "Evolution"; that was the last time Adrien was able to do something like that...)

But poor Adrien of course does not know the true reason for why he's still hesitating to kiss Marinette even now in "Collusion". He must be so relieved that Marinette is reading it as him needing more time with her too to get comfortable enough to kiss. It's so rough watching all these episodes and seeing Adrien beat himself up and think so low of himself when he's literally being abused through mind-control. All I want is for Adrien to finally have his rings on his hand like Félix and Kagami get to. I just want my boy to be free :'(

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relicsongmel · 10 days

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Thinking about Iris' very open disdain for spirit channeling and how it seemingly contradicts many other elements of her character.

Let me explain—Iris prior to the end of BttT is a woman who only knows facades, covering up the truth, and only presenting herself exactly as she wants others to see her. We see this over and over again throughout the course of the story: she hides her real identity while dating Phoenix, she does damage control for Dahlia and Godot to help them avoid blame for their crimes, and she is extremely selective about which information she chooses to disclose to specific people depending on whatever role she finds herself playing in that moment (daughter, girlfriend, accomplice, etc). Her demeanor as a whole is also rather meek and unassuming, and she's shown to be exceptionally kind; she expresses favorable opinions on most everyone she meets, even those continuously treated poorly by other characters (like Larry) or those that have objectively done reprehensible things (like Dahlia).

All of this stands in stark contrast to her saying in no uncertain terms that she hates spirit channeling:

This stands out to me because it is one of very few things that Iris is completely forthright honest about in the early portion of this case. After spending all day avoiding Phoenix and now carefully dodging his questions towards her in hopes of preventing the truth of her deception from coming out (all of this while actively avoiding her responsibilities at the Inner Temple because of Larry's "blackmail" letter which also threatened to expose her "secret"), why is this the one bit of truth she chooses to divulge here? Or rather: why is this the one thing she seemingly cannot lie about?

Obviously the answer lies in Iris' past and the permanent damage that was done to her and her family due to the politics of the Fey clan, with the Kurain Channeling Technique at the root, and the DL-6 incident as the event that brought everything to ruin. Iris bore witness to her mother Morgan losing the title of Master of Kurain due to her inferior powers and the despair that caused her, then three years later saw her aunt Misty who, despite purportedly being so much better than her mother, made a mistake while channeling that led to an innocent man's conviction, disgracing the Fey name and causing her to flee the village in shame. With this in mind, it makes sense that Iris would feel so strongly about spiritual powers doing more harm than good; after all, she has firsthand experience of the damage that can be done to the women that have it.

But what of the women that don't have it—namely, Iris herself? What happens to a spirit medium, born of the Fey bloodline, daughter of the then-master of her channeling school, when she's shown to not have any spiritual powers? I'm of the opinion that Iris' hatred is not only a product of what she's seen happen to her mother and aunt, but also very closely tied to what is, essentially, her earliest failure in life—after all, what good is a medium who can't channel? Fey women are raised to believe that their worth is linked to how well they can perform the service of their clan, which is the same reason why Maya beats herself up for failing to channel Mia in Turnabout Goodbyes and Pearl does the same with Dahlia later in this case. In a sense, Iris' hatred of spirit channeling is an externalization of her own self-hatred—unlike Dahlia, who mainly copes by lashing out and seeking revenge on those who wrong her, Iris is far too gentle and loving to lay blame on any one person. But all that repressed guilt and anger still has to go somewhere—and it manifests through this one small crack in her otherwise flawless facade. The one thing she cannot bring herself to find beauty in no matter how much she tries. The one thing that should have given her purpose but didn't—leaving her no choice but to mold herself beyond recognition over and over into roles that aren't truly her own, but at the very least give her meaning where she was denied it before.

And knowing her? She probably hates that flaw more than anything.

#ace attorney #pwaa #ace attorney trials and tribulations #aa #iris hawthorne #iris fey #iris of hazakura temple #phoenix wright #dahlia hawthorne #morgan fey #misty fey #aa3 spoilers #meta #my meta #i still have a BIT more to say about iris choosing to stay at hazakura temple in spite of this hatred #and what that says about her. but that'll have to wait for another day bc this post is already quite long #guys i love iris soooo much did you know that #local woman going feral over sister iris ace attorney for the 261478th time. more at 11

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static-sulker · 7 months

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Okay, so I’ve been drawing an unholy amount of blood weave in between my homework recently that has given me a new headcanon. Gale cannot stop himself from infodumping or over explaining about literally anything. Like, not even JUST magic. It could be about like migration patterns of like hook horrors. He can does this for a WHILE if hes not interrupted. He especially does this about his times with Mystra and does NOT have a filter. He also struggles to think internally at times about things, leaving him to mutter constantly if needed. The responses are normally mixed when hes in speech mode. Astarion? hates it. But it grows on him after awhile. Like, first few days of camp, he gets pulled into a deep rooted explanation of conjuration magic and its benefits. He practically tunes him out the moment he starts talking. Mainly from constant practice of just letting people talk themselves into his charms back when he was still a slave to Cazador. But as time progresses, he finds himself actually seeking out Gale for "One of your silly history lessons" during a long rest. It's comforting enough to keep his mind off of things. This is one of the many things that make Astarion start to fall for Gale. Full stop.

Karlach LOVES it in the way a child likes talking with a parent about adult topics. She has NO idea what he is saying at times, very few topics actually giving her some background grasp on it, but she is happy to lend an ear when he needs to speak out his thought process. She originally begins to do this in order to get him more comfortable, seeming to be a bit out of his element. She doubles down when she finds out about the orb (especially during the first week or so after Elminster

Lae'zel thinks its fucking stupid for about 80% of act 1. Just a weird human not knowing when to shut up. That IS until she finds herself on the end of a ramble about old battles against elves and dwarves long before the events of most of their lives (he had to study it when he was an apprentice) and Lae'zel finally gets to sink her teeth (haha Astarion moment) onto a conversation about old war tactics.

Shadowheart finds it a bit strange, but never intrudes. She is a good listener and knows when and where she should speak off somebody when they get to have their big talks. She is the kind to at most play a devils advocate for his debate styled moments, just to keep his brain pumping. Gale lives for that type of shit. So Shadowheart lets him have it. In summary? Gale Dekarios would be the one who would make slideshows about his hyperfixations and present them to his roommates.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate three #astarion acunin #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate karlach #karlach cliffgate #baldurs gate wyll #wyll ravengard #baldurs gate laezel #lae'zel #baldurs gate shadowheart #shadowheart #is the tism showing #or maybe me deeply projecting onto Gale #either work #bloodweave

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pixydustworld · 1 year

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The marriage law was announced at 2pm on a Tuesday.

By 2:15 Hermione had already drafted a motion to dismiss the law entirely. It was a good motion, too. If she’d sent a copy to Ron, he would’ve replied with: wow! lots of words! good stuff!

At 2:17 her motion was denied.

“It’s best to just accept defeat.” Malfoy said from his side of the office, bookshelves neat, papers all stacked in order. “You won’t win this one.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving up.” Hermione snapped. Her side of the office was cluttered, less pristine. Her bookshelf had a nasty habit of overflowing all over the floor, stacks of books balancing precariously on every surface. “A fire hazard.” Malfoy had sneered at her once, “Breaking several codes.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t noticed.” He was smiling softly, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Waiting, almost patiently for her to smile. Stupid man with his stupid grin, Hermione wanted to throw a book at his head.

“This is archaic.” Hermione hissed. “The Ministry has gone too far. They can't force us to marry anyone.”

Even as she spoke, a squirming feeling of doubt was beginning to take root in her chest — being friends with Harry came with many things. Companionship and love, but it also came with a healthy distrust of the government (like a free gift basket! but terrible one).

Malfoy ignored her complaints. "Marriage Acts aren't as mid-evil as you're making them out to be." He said, with that annoying voice he used when he knew he was right about something, "They serve a purpose."

"A purpose?" Hermione could practically feel the beginnings of an aneurysm. A fitting death, slumped over her desk, surrounded by unfinished documents and discovered by Draco Malfoy, "Are you actually defending this?"

She would have to find a new partner. A new office, one where he wasn't constantly surrounding her, swimming on the edge of her peripheral vision. Maybe Dean Thomas would let her set up a current workplace in his records closet, he was always bragging about how it was big enough for him to take naps in during work —

"No." Malfoy said, somehow even more amused now, "I don't support it."

"Oh." Hermione said, very eloquently, "That's good."

"But," Malfoy continued, still distinctly unruffled while Hermione was very ruffled, "Most people will be unfazed. It's a Pure-Blood tradition. My parents have always planned to arrange a marriage contract.” Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not absolutely unheard of.”

“Well," Hermione said, out of breath from all the pacing she was doing, "Your parents are terrible.”

“Of course.” Malfoy said, like it was obvious. “They would never allow me the opportunity to sully the Malfoy name. Producing the correct heir is the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

Hermione frowned. “Hearing about your family isn’t good for our working relationship. It makes me feel bad for you.”

“We can’t have that.” Malfoy said.

“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “we can’t have that.”

“So, tell me Granger. What is your plan?” His grin became less self indulgent, more fake. “You’ll have to marry someone. It'll undoubtably be the event of the season — have a fiancé you’ve been hiding from me?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I could hide anything from you?”

Malfoy knew when she changed the scent of her shampoo, when she switched up her coffee order — he even knew if she was sleeping less than usual. It was impossibly annoying to be around someone so observant, someone so intent on cataloguing her every move.

"If I had a secret fiancé, which I don't, I'm confident that you're competent enough to have sniffed him out by now."

Malfoy responding grin was slow and syrupy. "You think I'm competent?"

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Is he shorter than me? Is that it? Didn’t want to introduce us because you knew he’d feel bad?”

“You’re taller than everyone.” Hermione said, annoyed, again, “You would obviously be taller than my imaginary fiancé. You’re like an angelic giraffe.”

“You think I’m angelic?”

“No.”

"Two compliments on top of each other, are you feeling alright, Granger?"

"Shut up."

At 2:20, Hermione began to clean her side of the office, desperate for an excuse not to talk to Malfoy.

At 2:22, Harry slammed through her door, completely demolishing the (very little) progress Hermione had made in cleaning up her side of the office.

“I’ll marry you.” Harry said, slightly out of breath, like he’d sprinted all the way to her office, “Do you think we can kiss without making a face? We’ll have to practice.”

“I’m not marrying you.” Hermione said from the floor behind her desk, “You are engaged to Theo.” She was laying on her back with a book covering her face, feeling rightfully sorry for herself.

“Theo won’t mind.” Harry said in the voice he reserved for whenever he wanted people to listen to him (i am harry potter! and i did not spill mustard on the couch! you have to believe me, i saved the world!) “It will be quick. I can get us rings before the day is over.”

"No." Hermione said, still on the floor, "I've gone along with enough of your stupid ideas. This is too much."

Because, despite it all, Harry would do this. Without hesitation, blind loyalty and unwavering determination — Harry would marry her and be pleased with his choices. He was lovely, but at times, Harry could be a misguided idiot.

"This is where you draw the line?" Malfoy hummed, "Interesting to catch a glimpse into the inner workings of your mind."

Finally scrambling to her feet (after a few more seconds of wallowing) Hermione was horrified to find a familiar look on Harry's face — one that promised something stupid.

"I'll figure it out. " Harry said, with a shrug that reminded Hermione of their childhood (occidentally, the stress headache she was feeling also reminded her of their childhood). He pointed a stoic finger at her. "Don't make a face when I kiss you."

Then, he left.

“Theo wouldn’t mind,” Malfoy said in a helpful voice, “He’d probably marry you as well. Would it be Granger-Potter-Nott? Or Granger-Nott-Potter? Better figure that out soon. Potter seems eager to find those rings.”

Hermione threw a book at his head.

Malfoy caught it with ease, his stupid Quidditch hands.

“I have an idea,” Malfoy said after a moment.

Hermione ignored him. “There has to be a way out of this.” She was pacing again, sensible shoes kicked off to the corner (where she’d undoubtedly forget them) “I could write another motion? A longer one this time. With more quotes.”

“Marry me instead.”

Hermione stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m your best option.”

“I have many options —

“Weasley already tricked someone into marrying him and Potter is engaged to my only friend.” He frowned, in a mocking sort of way. “Did I leave anyone out?”

“No.” Hermione said flatly. “You didn’t.”

“Alright then. Marry me.”

“Hah.” She said, “Hah. I take back everything I’ve ever said about you. Malfoy, you are funny.”

“I’m being serious.” He said, looking annoyed. Fantastic, they were both annoyed. Like they always were.

“We can get married before the law passes and then you can do what you do best.” Malfoy continued, like that was a totally normal thing to say.

“Which is?” Without her shoes, the height difference was unbearably noticeable. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At some point he'd stopped being a willowy wraith of a person and began the unfortunate process of filling out.

He didn’t look away. “Destroy everyone’s expectations and free the downtrodden.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What would you get out of this arrangement?”

Malfoy shrugged, too practiced to be nonchalant. “I’d be married to a war hero. It would do wonders for my reputation.”

“And you would be married to me.” Hermione said, beginning to feel like this was getting too real, “We both know that would never happen.”

“Never?”

“Never.” She agreed.

He wasn’t smiling that lazy smile from before, this one was different. Sharper. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Besides,” Hermione continued on loudly, “you’re no gentleman. No need to pretend. I don’t need saving, I’ll figure this out myself.”

“You don’t need to.” Malfoy said, “I will help. I want to fuck over the Ministry for many reasons, but mainly because they declined your motion.”

He was on her side of the office now, leaning casually against her desk, inches away from where she stood. He was too pretty up close, like staring at the sun.

“It was very good.” Hermione breathed.

Malfoy nodded, almost too good at pretending to be sincere.

“I’m sure it was good. You touched it. Everything you touch is golden.”

“You truly want to help me?”

“I’ve only offered several times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “All to fuck over the Ministry? No other reason?”

“Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Hermione's eye twitched.

"Don't tease me." She managed to hiss. "Not about this."

She saw when he realized, a flicker of excitement in his eyes — when he noticed her apparent misery at how completely and helplessly she was drawn to him.

"I'd never dream of it." Malfoy said warmly, "You could kill me with ease, only an idiot would be careless around you."

She thought of all the long nights they spent together, crammed in their tiny little office. How she looked forward to her day, if only to see his stupidly pointy face. How she tried to date, but couldn’t. Because it wasn’t right — her dates were too kind, too short.

Not him.

How, through everything, he was the first person she thought of in the morning, the person she thought of in the darkness of the night, when no one could see her wandering hands — the person she looked at for a challenge, for relief and support.

Despite her best attempts, Hermione Granger had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and now, here he was, seeming to share in her suffering.

“We’d have to consummate the marriage.” She said, giving him one last out. “You’d have to see me naked.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“I’m very bossy,” she said, “and I work all the time.”

“Good thing we share an office.”

“I’m not easy to love.”

Malfoy scoffed. “It’s been easy enough for me.”

He was close enough to touch, so uncharacteristically open. Looking down at her with fondness she didn’t know he possessed.

“I’m selfish.” Malfoy warned, “Do not forget that. I will help you destroy this law and anything else you want. Burn it all down if you want to. But I won’t be letting you go. Not now, after I've gotten you."

“I suppose that’s fine.” Hermione said softly, watching as his hand moved to touch her face, warm against her skin. "It'll be bearable to be around you, I suppose."

As he held her face in his hands, Hermione watched as his grin transform into something different, something new — a smile she'd only seen glimpses of, one only for her. "I'll work very hard to make our marriage a tolerable one." He said.

"Good," Hermione breathed, stretching up to kiss him, to finally press her lips against his, "I can't wait."

Hermione was married at 3pm on a Tuesday.

It was a small ceremony.

Harry, although he'd never publicly admit it, was relieved.

Despite his best attempts, he would've made a face when Hermione had kissed him.

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sgiandubh · 7 months

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Keepers of the Quaich

This time, we're going to look at things a bit differently and this could very well be my most speculative post ever. So be it: it is a risk I am taking and warning you about from the get go.

The only thing Mordor understood about the next October 4 event organized by the US Chapter of The Keepers of the Quaich is something that probably gave them collective relief: S is not going to be with C on her birthday. Not together. Not on the same continent. Shut up, shippers, you are stupid.

As usually, Mordor takes things at a very primitive face value, without bothering for context. But they always focused on the lewd side of the story, not on its deep ramifications, of which there are many. Anything that denies S's halfwit manwhore image upsets them greatly.

The Scottish society of The Keepers of the Quaich is not one of those old, steeped in tradition clubs, but it is damn selective. It only dates back to 1988, which is almost five minutes ago, for Europe (and especially the UK) and is deeply rooted in Highlands' lore, celebrating excellence in whisky trade and promotion worldwide. General facts about it have already been discussed elsewhere, but with a bias and little to no context. Also, really LOL at Mordor's idiocy to think that was a fan promotion event and go ballistic for the members-only and by invitation access to it.

Membership is by co-opting and with a five-year proven performance history only (ten years, if you step up to Master level). You need not one, but two recommendations, which makes it harder to join than a Masonic lodge or the Rotary Club (and I know what I am saying, heh). That S could actively seek to be inducted, rather sooner than later, is pretty much clear, as he could use the network it readily provides, along with the prestige:

(Sourced at: https://www.diffordsguide.com/encyclopedia/341/people/keepers-of-the-quaich)

I first had a look at the list of its International Chapters and it is interesting to notice Muslim countries as Turkey or the Emirates each having their own chapter, which clearly tells me it's all about luxury and more specifically, luxury hospitality business, in that case. If inducted after the customary five years' wait, S could also make good use of the German chapter's (a market that proved to be very problematic for him) network, along with the Nordics and Netherlands, if he would think about cleverly expanding his trade in the EU. Last but not least, I would keep an eye on Brazil and India (along with the more predictable South Africa and Australia), because he already has a solid fanbase in the first one and well, Asia is always interesting, when it comes to alcohol business.

I did not really bother with the list of the Patrons, which spells a good and prestigious sliver of Debrett's Peerage's Scottish section. But I also looked at the list of the Management Committee, who does all the hands-on dealings and is directly responsible for the induction ceremony of new members. Aside from representatives of Diageo and Pernod Ricard (giants of the alcohol business world), a familiar name popped right at the bottom of the page:

Annabel Meikle, Director of The Keepers of the Quaich and as such, directly involved in the management of its activities (and probably also in all the underground shenanigans leading to the induction of new members, too). A great contact to have in your rolodex, judging by her public CV on LinkedIn:

Glenmorangie (also a member of the Keepers) - keep that reference under your sleeve, we are going to need it soon :).

Could she be related to...

I am leaving this without an answer, because I don't know and I will always refuse to go data mining for anything, but that sure as hell is not a common surname, as Smith or Martin!

At any rate, Mrs. Meikle is also (along with the Duke of Argyll, the current Keepers Grand Master) a member of The Scottish Committee of something very, very prestigious: The Worshipful Company of Distillers (https://www.distillers.org.uk/), based in London and founded in 1638, by Royal Charter (for “Body Politique and corporate” to govern the “Trade Arte and Mystery of Distillers of London” - how I love history, people!) granted by Charles I, a Stuart (of course). I am speculating and having visions of Livery status and Freedom of the City, followed by Knighthood for S (no bong needed, this particular narrative writes itself and believe it or not, it's not entirely without logic). And it is my strict constitutional right to be a poetic coo about it - that guy is smarter than we thought and I would curate that contact to death if I were him (but I am not, I am just a benevolent and intrigued observer, as you all know). Back to Earth from these optimistic conjectures, I will keep a tab on it, as I dutifully took note that one of their current interests is tequila:

Onwards to the US. We can have a fair idea of October 4th event just by looking at one of their few press releases on the occasion of the Chapter's launch gala, on September 25 2019, in New York (https://www.distilledspirits.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/KOTQUSA-Release-10.04.19.pdf - with quotes selected by me):

Moët Hennessy. Another reference to keep under our sleeve, for it will be soon very relevant. So yes, what has been speculated by Miss Marple is partially true: more business than aristocratic. But this is only if we do not consider as American aristocratic the venue of the next event. The Metropolitan Club is a very East Coast, WASP old money and (well, technically yes) Republican (but not MAGA Republican and this, to me, is very important for some reason) organization:

That was the state of play on Friday, folks, and I was already excited to share my optimistic findings with you. And then, C went to Paris and more dots started to speculatively connect. Bare with me for this long passegiata, I think it's worth it.

It was particularly important that C would be seen in a very friendly-casual pose with Delphine Arnault, out of all the other people attending that event. Not because Arnault is currently the big boss of Dior and Loewe (as I already explained here: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/729801825900953600/city-of-lights?source=share). And not only because C suddenly seems very interested to renew and expand her fashion days' old network. But also, because, as I already said, Delphine Arnault is also the daughter of her father and in France, business and family are always closely entwined. Always.

The French luxury market is roughly split between two behemoth players: Bernard Arnault (LVMH Moët Hennessy • Louis Vuitton S.A) and Antoine Pinault (Kering, ex- Pinault-Printemps- Redoute). These people and their businesses are number 1 and 2, respectively, on the global market. And out of these two, the only one very interested in the alcohol business is Arnault (Pinault does not deal in this sector).

So I took a look at his very diverse alcohol and spirits brand portfolio (25 references - https://www.lvmh.com/houses/wines-spirits/): rhum, brandy, champagne, tequila, wines (Argentina and even China). Two Scottish whisky brands: first Ardberg (the graceful peat from Islay). And - oh, hello, Mrs. Meikle - Glenmorangie, acquired by Arnault in 2004, after a bitter battle with Pernod Ricard (https://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/21/business/world-business-briefing-europe-france-scotch-maker-acquired.html):

Back at Mrs. Meikle's CV - hers was a pivotal role in the post-acquisition reshuffle, as part of LVMH:

Coincidence? I think not.

And then also a bourbon reference. Woodinville (based in the state of Washington, USA) with a pitch that made me grin again like the Cheshire Cat:

Sounds familiar? Rings a bell? See a pattern? You should: no, it's not S in disguise, but it could be SS in a couple of years, if S decided to sell it for a hefty profit.

But I was also interested in what is missing from this catalogue.

NO GIN.

Who knows? Maybe these French people could be enticed? In that case (and remember: I am SPECULATING), it would have to be a brand with a proven track record. You see, Arnault is famous for always buying only brands with a proven history and proven recognition (Tasting Alliance, anyone? LOL). Up until now and as is, FMN is just a pet project and a virtual endeavor. Nothing more and we shall see. But that little wild Scottish gin which could win hearts and already an award in Frisco is something completely different.

Now, then. You connect the dots. You draw your own conclusions. I see something very intriguing here and, as I already told you, the business underground situation is completely different from the bland façade.

You see, this is not about papers or checking a pulse or awkwardly grabbing a fist on some stairs. This is show me the money time. This is all about finding unexpected connections, at a very high level and on a very narrow niche.

So you think S and C can't stand each other anymore?

Humbug. They have each other's back from Day 1. And more. Ship on, ladies. Whatever clownery these days might bring, I know what I know. And by now, you should start asking yourselves the real questions, not if Waldo is with Carmen Sandiego (we KNOW), nor if they were online at the same time or not. I mean, that's cute: but to be honest, I think we're past that... uh... waypoint?

Next on my list is that Lallybroch trademark thing. This is the most complex one and I will take my time. I may speculate, but never without a logical base. And I always take these things very seriously.

Keepers of the Quaich, indeed. :)

#BoozeWars

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dreamnants-mis · 5 months

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Something that only came to me while re-reading the manga after the anime came out involves the name of Andy itself and I think it's actually pretty interesting to think about.

Spoilers for the later half of the manga (roughly about up to Chapter 124)! .

After the mess with the Union goons, Fuuko asks about Andy's name after calling him "Zombie" for most of the chapter. Andy responds that he doesn't remember and says being called "Undead" is good enough. Fuuko doesn't like that and decides to give him the name "Andy" instead. Andy clearly doesn't like the name very much, but considering he knows he'll have to humor Fuuko to find a way for her Unluck to kill him, he just accepts it.

In fact, I've noticed most people at first tend to call him "Undead", a dehumanizing sort of term, such as Void and the Union goons. Which considering Andy's desire to die is rooted from the guilt and loneliness being immortal brings, serves to further create emotional distances from others and perhaps even himself.

And even "Undead" doesn't quite fully fit him either because Andy is an alter ego of the original Undead Victor, so even that name wouldn't be really unique to him specifically since there are technically two different individuals with the ability.

(On a tangential aside, the first person aside from Fuuko that calls him Andy consistently is actually Shen after hearing Fuuko call him that…and he's essentially the closest thing Andy has to a bro. Make that as you will.)

But I think where Andy starts to view the name differently happens starting in the climax of the Spoil arc, with Fuuko telling him they still have so many more things to do together and then literally risking her life trying to bring him back after Victor takes over the body. And Andy knows and Fuuko also knows he is using her for the sake of finding a way to die.

It's also after this event that Andy calls Fuuko by name for the first time after she wakes up in the hospital after having called her "brat" every time up to this point. Of course, this time, he takes it back, but Fuuko notices the significance of it to want him to call her by name again.

Anyway, both of them get sent to the black market auction and Fuuko picks a dress that needs some bust tailoring. It's something I didn't really pay attention to during my initial reading when it came out, but Andy signs his name as "Andy" on the delivery form. While it might have been for practical reasons, the fact he used that name for the signature is actually pretty significant because it implies Andy is slowly beginning to accept the name Andy as his own and not just something Fuuko calls him.

(Andy has really nice penmenship, as an aside.)

But it's only during the Ragnarok arc that the significance of the name Andy really changes.

In Chapter 99, Lucy asks Andy who is he after he saves her from an UMA. Andy initially introduces himself as "Undead", but then immediately nixes it and re-introduces himself as Andy. And this is actually the first time he's introduced himself as Andy because everyone else who calls him Andy usually only does so because Fuuko calls him that (such as the example with Shen). This leads into what happens in Chapter 124, where Andy finally calls himself "Andy the Undead", accepting consciously that his name is Andy, a member of the Union and Fuuko's partner in slaying God.

In other words, Andy fully accepting Andy as his name is a form of humanization, which is something Fuuko helps him to understand is what he truly wants is to feel human.

#undead unluck #rem rambles #undead unluck spoilers #analysis #uu spoilers

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curetapwater · 16 days

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Madoka Magica is a very dark show but I think it often gets kinda blown outta proportion, as if it's some bloodbath just because it has onscreen deaths and dark subject matter. I'd say the violence itself is rather on par with darker episodes of Sailor Moon. Deaths happen, but it's far from a gore fest. Mami's death in episode 3, one of the most gruesome scenes in the show, is carefully framed to show no blood, no gore. The image of her body going limp and detransforming, the ribbons she'd tied up Homura with dissolving, the wide shot so far from her body that you can hardly make it out as it falls to the ground for Charlotte to finish. The focus is not "ouuuuuuu teenage girl death SCARY SCARY" but on the weight of the events unfolding. And her death is not there just for shock value, but to drop a sudden, crushing weight upon the characters she is survived by. The scene where Madoka visits Mami's apartment one last time in particular is so effective. A sink filled with dishes that will never be washed. A half-full teacup that will never be emptied. Her absence is a gaping hole in the characters' lives as much as it is a reminder of the stakes of the situation.

And other onscreen deaths are as clean as possible. The Soul Gem thing is existentially terrifying but it also lends itself to something about how PMMM handles its darkest scenes with a certain tastefullness. We don't need to watch a 14-year-old girl get ripped apart in order to understand how fucked things are. We just need to see her soul itself shatter, the light leave her eyes, her body go limp. The lack of traditionally graphic imagery allows weight to be shifted from what we are seeing to what the events unfolding mean.

One of the most visceral scenes for me is the one where Kyubey just dumps his reasoning for the magical girl system on her. On its surface, it's just a girl sitting in bed, being spoken to by an alien creature. But it's the shit he says to her. The way he talks about commodifying, using, tormenting teenage girls across human history as if it's a perfectly reasonable, pleasant conversation. The way he compares humans to livestock. The way his cheerful tone never falters as Madoka's emotional state deteriorates further and further. And GOD, the shot where she slowly grabs her head, curls in on herself before bending backwards. Just trying to process the weight of a system that extends far beyond her, across the whole world, across human history. The helplessness of it all. The way it all culminates, as the audience and Madoka herself finally understand Kyubey to be a microcosm of the way the world is stacked against young girls. That single shot rocks me to my core.

I think people who label this show "torture porn" severely miss the point. We aren't supposed to root for all the bad things happening to these characters. We aren't supposed to point and go "Haha! Foolish girls and their frivolous dreams!!" nor are we supposed to wallow in misery and cry out "Woe! The dreams of young girls are all for naught!! Hope is lost!!!" We're supposed to sympathize and connect with them. And hell if I do. I'm so glad I first watched this show when I was the same age as the characters, because this show just really speaks to me. There is a great catharsis, to me, in things like Mami's veneer of being the cool perfect girl that she desperately doesn't want to fall to reveal the vulnerable girl beneath, the way Sayaka desperately wants to save the world but jumps into things without thinking and pours from an empty cup, the way Kyoko has seemingly given up entirely on being a good person but deep down still believes that something good must exist out there, Homura's determination to try again. And again. And again. Until her love consumes her and everyone around her. And Madoka's crushing sense of helplessness, of guilt, of wanting to make the world a better place, of wanting everyone to just!!!! Get along!!!!! Please!!!!!!! And the way she overcomes this sense of helplessness with the main theme that the magical girl genre was built upon to begin with: hope.

To me, Madoka Magica is a show about how much it can absolutely suck to be a teenage girl, but in a respectful way, y'know? It's about how the world is stacked against young girls, how it uses and objectifies them and kicks them into the dirt, and how because they're still young, they often don't respond to the hand dealt to them in perfect ways. But that doesn't mean their feelings, their hopes and dreams and very souls, do not matter. If anything, I'd say Madoka Magica is about how the world isn't going to go easy on you, and your feelings about that fact are real, even if you don't respond to them perfectly. But despite it all, you have to keep going.

So yeah PMMM is a dark show but I feel like its discussion is often like "this show KILLED the magical girl genre by being DARK and VIOLENT" like. Siigh. Especially frustrating because I see this sentiment both from magical girl fans who resent the show and non-magical girl fans who laud the show because they think it's "better" than its predecessors. Maybe it had an impact on the genre in the same way that Shrek was an excellent movie whose success unfortunately gave way to trends in animated films that didn't quite get what made Shrek work. But I find it unfair to say PMMM "ruined" or even "killed" the magical girl genre. I'm unsure if I'd even call it a deconstruction, it's just its own neat thing to me. I can go back and watch Sailor Moon or Pretty Cure without feeling they've been tainted or taken down a peg. If anything, I think PMMM complements more traditional magical girl shows very nicely. I think Madoka and Usagi would love each other. I don't think a magical girl show where very bad things happen is that big a deal. What is a big deal, to me, is how excellent it is in its execution.

#pmmm spoilers #fictional child death #child death tw

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justyanle · 1 year

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could you please write some sappy Lo’ak x gn!reader head cannon’s?

Sappy Lo'ak headcanons!

a/n: i was literally clenching so hard trying to write this because i didn't know how to stop hcs from turning into a full on story 😭 anyways, lets gaur!! reqs r still open

You and Lo'ak met while joining the warriors at the ground, the two of you supposed to be spotters, yet still disobeying orders and getting to the group of warriors handing out the rifles.

"Hey! Aren't you the Olo'eyktan's kid?" you yelled at the younger Sully son.

His eyes widened and lips parted slightly when he turned his head to turn his head to the source of the sound, the view he was being met with was almost sending him into a permanent shock, stunned by your features.

"Y-Yeah, aren't you one of the spotters that were at the campsite earlier?" he gives a wide smile at the sight of you, not believing that someone as beautiful as you could talk to him.

You laughed, "We aren't supposed to be here!" a giggle erupts from you, cocking the weapon handed to you.

A few months had passed since your first encounter together, growing closer since then, getting into more frequent trouble than ever.

The two of you would always be found leaving a place that looked like that was wrecked by a Thanator, you and your best friend being the cause of the ruckus.

He would often be bringing you trinkets, babbling you about the "useless shit" he found - in reality, he was practically blushing really hard from both the embarrassment and shyness he developed around his crush because he has observed that they keep all of the items he had retrieved for you.

He was also VERY, VERY, touchy whenever you guys are sneaking out, usually telling you something along the lines of "Shut up, I'm only doing this so you can go back alive to the camp in one piece or else your dad would kill me." but, he was always feeling jittery when he held you close to him, wanting to rush into his bed face first and let out a girly squeal with his legs kicking in the air due to the minimum distance you guys shared.

Once he introduced you to his family, you all basically clicked, although, he was being extra possessive and much more of a show-off when you two were close to Neteyam, being insecure that Neteyam would once take the spotlight again.

When the two of you would play with Tuk, you guys would play pretend marriage, smiling to yourself at the thought of Tuk in a make-shift gown made out of leaves.

"You may now kiss, newly wed!" The youngest Sully exclaimed, in the middle of you and Lo'ak that were facing one another.

Both of your hearts thumped in your chest as both of you awkward teenagers were just facing one another holding eye contact as if telepathically communicating.

"Well?! What are you two doing?! Waiting for air to push the both of you?! I said you may now kiss!"

Lo'ak engulfed your smaller build of hands into his five fingered ones, cupping them into his hands and landing butterfly-inducing pecks on your palms and fingers. Tuk squealing in the background.

He then soon lets go of your hands, cups your face, gazing at your perfectly sculpted features before bringing his lips closer to your forehead, leaving you blushing as your delicate skin and his hydrated lips made the intimate touch.

"OH MY GOODNESS!! AHH!! I DON'T THINK THIS WOULD JUST BE A PRETEND MARRIAGE ANYMORE!' Tuk cheerfully screamed with the butterflies in her stomach, thinking she could have just potentially found her sibling in law.

Ever since Tuk shared the eventful evening to her whole family, they were basically teasing Lo'ak to the point he couldn't even achieve a wink of a sleep.

They were all rooting for Lo'ak to make a move on the sweet Na'vi named [Y/N].

"Hey bro! Better make a move before they mate with someone else!" Neteyam says as he shrugs by his younger brother.

Though, not only his family was the only one teasing him. Your family was secretly observing the two of you from afar, often saying things like "Ah, our baby's all grown up already, ready to have a mate!" making you have a purple hue out of embarrassment.

More moons have passed, you and Lo'ak have made it a hobby to sing each other's songcords to one another.

You had already made it a routine to a point you had memorized his songcord, you had stopped because you had expected it to end already - though, what you failed to notice was that Lo'ak had added another cord to his songcord.

"I thank Eywa, for the gift she had given in the form of you. I let my heart choose, leading me off to, you. Ma [Y/N], Ma [Y/N].." his new cord ends as he kept his gaze on you.

"Ma Lo'ak."

a/n: its like 2 days ever since i started writing fanfics guyz pls spare me i dont know how to write good yet 😭😭😭 i literally dont know how to write headcanons bcs theyre not supposed to turn into long ass stories 💔 anyways, reqs still open

#atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar movie #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar neteyam #avatar lo'ak #lo'ak atwow #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #lo'ak fluff #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x you #lo'ak headcanons

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strangesthirdeye · 4 months

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Under the root of Yggdrasil (Loki x fem! Reader)

Summary: Sometimes being able to see your loved ones from afar is good enough.

Warning: It's Loki who doesn't like him. Medium angst, Loki s2 ep 6 spoilers? Norse Mythology, acceptance, Loki needs a hug,

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Staring at the one spot makes all the views in the corners of your eyes blur as you only focus on one spot. Your mind is somewhere else while your fingers unconsciously fidget on Loki's broken tempad. It's been a few weeks since the temporal loom event.

Since Loki sacrificed himself to save the entire timeline even universe. He's not dead but his absence is enough to make one. The way he smiled in sadness and willingly to be a pillar of the tree of life and also the way he said 'I love you' for the last time to you made you enough to shed tears.

All the events are back to normal and like nothing happened, yet you feel empty without Loki's presence. Mobius? He is retired. B-15? she's also thinking of retiring. O. B? busy with everything. And you don't want to bother Casey as he seems quite busy too.

While Sylvie, she has returned to her universe and that was the last time you saw her. She is still in the phase of accepting the truth after witnessing Loki's action.

How about you? It is very difficult to accept the fact that Loki is no longer with you. But still, you have to keep moving and living as normal. Which is quite difficult because you are both attached hip to hip to each other. Never lost from each other. Always found one another.

But ever since the Temporal Loom problem everything changed as Loki suddenly or willingly saved the Timelines by 'sacrifice' himself. you? You just let out an anguished loud shout to tell Loki to stop. But, Loki ignores it hoping you all are safe.

It was very difficult at first after a few days after the whole TVA problem. After Loki became the main pillar of the tree. Everything reminds you of him.

Not once, but many times. You yourself can't ignore that feeling but the next thing you know you're staring at nothingness with your cheeks wet with tears. You miss him and worry about him at the same time. Which makes you wonder in your mind. What is he doing now? Is he lonely? is he okay? All those questions running around your head which make you more sad and worried.

You always think about his well-being. You wonder if he can see you now from the Yggdrasil tree. Seeing yourself who cannot accept the fact that he is 'gone'. After all those things you both went through. Is this the ending you both got? Away from each other. Lost a loved one? is that the ending you both get? Funny.

Sometimes, if you are too worried about him or miss him, you will go to TVA and to the place where the Yggdrasil tree is shown behind the glass of the room where you, Loki, Sylvie, Mobius, Victor, O. B and Cassie were before.

Staring at the tree for a long time as you make sure that he is not alone although you can't see him. The green glowing tree really reminds you of him. And you hope he is fine there. Sometimes, O. B will come to check up on some technology in the room and notice you in front of the glass mirror standing stiffly with your eyes looking at the tree. He gives you a sympathetic look even if you don't look at him but he knows you just want to make sure Loki is okay.

'You look sad, when you think he can't see you'. Ever heard? yup, that's what you've been going through all along. Thanks Molly Hooper.

But what you don't know is that Loki actually has the same feelings as you. Missing, worried and sad. He missed you, He worried about you and He was sad that he couldn't be with you.

But, he can't do anything. His duty is what he has to do to make sure all Timelines are under control.

He missed your touch, he missed your voice and he missed your smiles. And he can only see you from afar. And that was enough for him.

#loki series #loki season 2 #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader angst #loki x y/n #loki laufesyon x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston x reader #Spotify

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heart4reigns · 11 months

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Hi! I was wondering if i can request where y/n is dating roman and she’s a face, she’s in a match and she gets serious injured and roman gets very worried but she then ends up okay with fluff at the end? (sorry if that made no sense) ty!

BACKLASH, roman reigns.

warning: curse words, shitty description of action, blood, violence

tags: YES MORE STAGE NAMES SORRY, made-up events, fluff!!!!

summary: lovers to enemies but make it a fight

"AND i'll see you at wrestlemania, baby." you dropped the mic. the crowd cheered, waiting for your boyfriend's response. nothing came out of your mouth. the two of you had a stare down, totally in character. "then it's settled, roman reigns against stage killer for wrestlemania!" the announcer yelled. who would've thought the power couple of the industry was up against each other.

the camera stopped rolling and you were out of your character. going back to the clingy girlfriend you were. "baby!" you jumped on his back as soon as you got backstage. "can you believe it? wrestlemania?" you giggled in excitement. "i'm gonna beat your ass, you know that right?" "i’m gonna beat your ass!”

the moment you got back to your place, you immediately went to take a shower. work was never boring for you, you got to work with your boyfriend and his cousins–so it was quite exciting to see what the industry had for you. after showering, you laid on your bed, trying to close your eyes. but before you knew it, roman was already right next to you. "baby, you're not gonna shower?" "i was going to, but you went ahead of me." he joked.

morning came by and your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. damn, up and early for a morning run, you thought. you were wrong, he was in the kitchen, making breakfast for the two of you. "morning." you greeted him with a kiss on his forehead, trying your best to reach his height. "morning baby, breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes. turn on the tv for me, please." you nodded and went to the living room.

"you heard it right, the power couple will face each other in wrestlemania!" the match had everyone talking. you chuckled as you switched the channel. "when do you wanna go over the choreography?" you asked him. "what?" he couldn't hear you. "i said when do you wanna go over the choreography?" "what?" at this point he was messing with you. you only groaned in response. "we'll go over it the day after tomorrow, let's just chill for a bit."

the build up for the fight was insane. even your families couldn't believe that you were pinned against each other. your mother called, asking if you had relationship problems with roman. you brushed it off, telling her it was all an act. the entire 'lovers-to-enemies' plot was a good idea to bring more depths into your storyline. being a face with your boyfriend as the top heel was complicated on live television. people were rooting for you to join the bloodline, some were rooting for the bloodline to turn face–needless to say, the two of you were the talk of the town.

behind closed doors and all the soap opera-coded romance, the two of you were actually so in love with each other. you had been dating for 5 years. your debut and his debut were in the same era, causing you to meet him in every reading and practice. the two of you immediately hit it off when he realized that you were practically living in the same neighbourhood.

gym sessions turned to dates, running together turned to grocery shoppings for your household, and friends turned to lovers. you loved every single little thing about him; how he drank his morning coffee–slightly sweeter than yours, how he dropped whatever was in his hands–to catch you, how he held you higher than any title that he has. out of all the belts and titles he owned, you were his prized possession, his true win in life.

and the same goes for you. he loved every single little thing about you. you never thought that you'd end up with one of your closest ring partners. the love that you had for each other was indescribable. "hey, baby." he greeted you, scooting closer to your body. "hey." you replied. "you ready to go over the script?" he raised an eyebrow. "hell yeah."

the big creative boss, triple h, was the reason why you were doing this entire 'lovers-to-enemies' gimmick. he wanted people to stay invested, rather than just fawning over the perfect love story you had. at first, roman and you thought it was a joke. it wasn't a joke at all. as much as you wanted to cling on roman and make him break character by your flirtings, it was quite interesting seeing this 'evil' persona of your boyfriend on stage.

the plan for wrestlemania was laid in front of the two of you from months ago. it was going to end with you winning. you wanted a change and the industry brought it to you. "so roman, what do you want to talk about?" the other wrestlers in the arena laughed at your joke. "hey that was my line!" cody complained from outside the ring. "sorry, just had to!" you gave him a thumbs up.

everyone was doing their job, you could see the sound guy adjusting the volumes of the speakers, wardrobe crews running to the backstage, you felt peace in the ring–not knowing what was coming for you. you dropkicked your boyfriend's chest, avoiding several spots. he flew back, hanging on the ropes. "that was great!" he smiled at you. "learned from the best." practice continued for the two of you.

roman was sitting in front of you, waiting for you to finish your makeup. he finished putting on his gear, his iconic red gloves and an ula fala around his neck. he was playing with his phones, replying to messages from his family and friends, wishing the two of you good luck for the show. "do you think cody will be using all his pyro tonight?" you asked him a question. "the ground will shake when he goes out." you applied your signature lip color, bloody red, contradicting to the blue gloves you had on your left arm.

people started to notice that the two of you had similar gears, the red and blue dividing you from being one. "and you're done!" the makeup artist said, excusing herself from the scene as she didn't want to bother roman and you. "you look beautiful, baby." he complimented you. "and you don't look too bad yourself, reigns." roman rolled his eyes. he took out his phone from his pocket and snapped pictures of you. "turn around, i'm gonna show everyone my girl." oh, he was very cheesy, you thought.

the crowd was ecstatic for the main and last event. the nervousness you had inside yourself was gone, replaced with adrenaline. "GOOD LUCK (Y/N)! GOOD LUCK ROMAN!" the locker room was hyping you up for the match. "MAIN EVENT, BABY!" you shouted, earning several whistles from your fellow wrestlers. "(l/n) up in 5, reigns up in 10!" one of the crew opened the locker room, only to be greeted by the superstars being loud and rowdy. "ALRIGHT, SEE YOU ALL IN A BIT!"

roman and you walked hand-in-hand, savouring the moment before going out. right when the two of you got near the entrance, your steps stopped. "fuck." you muttered, scanning the crowd. "it's going to be amazing, baby." he kissed your forehead, calming you down. "i'm okay!" you smiled at him. you had a ritual together where you prayed in silence before going out. you heard your theme song started to play, the crowd singing along to it.

"kill the stage, baby." like your stage name, the stage killer–you were going to kill the stage.

as you walked the long path filled with fans, you were making a grand entrance with all your pyro and charisma. you ran and slid your body inside the ring, giving your signature pose. the crowd was still singing along your entrance song, pumping you up with adrenaline and love. as soon as your song stopped, you took the time to wave at some fans. you were ready to face your boyfriend, no matter what it takes.

"and her opponent for tonight, accompanied with his wiseman and solo sikoa, roman reigns!" you were on the opposite side of the ring, clearly making eye-contact with him as he walked down the aisle. you couldn't help but to feel slightly intimidated by your boyfriend's cold gaze. you gave him a quick wink, sticking to the true nature of your character, a flirt.

the two of you had a stare down for a couple of minutes, asserting your positions. "we can see here that the tension is crazy. going from lovers to enemies, the adventure leads to this very moment right here. it's history." the commentator said to the microphone. you smirked as he took off his ula fala.

with that, the bell rang and the fight was on.

like practice, roman lunged first, trying to get you on your back. you ran to him, knocking him out with your forearm. "a full-blown upper arm shot from killer! what a shot!" the commentator said. "and reigns is getting up on his feet!" you saw roman slightly nodding at you, ready for the next move. "reigns spears killer to the pole!" you landed on the least dangerous side of the pole. with all of your energy, you stood up, cracking your knuckles.

the entire match seemed like you were dancing inside the ring with your boyfriend, people were satisfied with the moves the two of you pulled. your quickness was the only thing that roman didn't have. you were light on your feet, dodging every attack perfectly. sooner or later the final move came and you were supposed to attack him with his move, the superman punch. when you first read the script, you laughed. how ironic, you thought. you gripped the ropes as tight as you could, wanting him to hit the ropes when he attacked you before the final move.

but all the sudden, your visions became hazy as one of the ropes accidentally snapped on your back, causing some backlash. the ropes brushed against your back–a loud snap was heard from the ring. roman's eyes flashed with worry. "you hear that? the rope just snapped! is killer getting up?" you almost stumbled upon your own legs, but you had to give people a great show. you shook your head and put up your iconic fighting stance.

you had to give them your all, but you didn't expect a botch in the middle of the fight, and it wasn't even your fault. you started to notice that the cut was very deep as you felt blood dripping down your back. this wasn't how you imagined your match would end. roman hesitated a bit when he wanted to spear you again before you counter it with a superman punch. "DO IT, REIGNS!" you yelled at him. he saw the determination in your eyes, your lips were pale, but your eyes were still full of life.

"REIGNS IS TAKING HIS STANCE TO SPEAR KILLER, WITH HER BLEEDING HER BACK OUT... IS THIS LOVE?" the crowd went silent for a bit, anxiously waiting for your next move. in a blink of an eye, the spear was countered by a superman punch, leaving roman in the middle of the ring, gasping for air. you quickly got down and locked his legs in between your head, slowly feeling more blood coming out of your injury. you didn’t even realize that your forehead was kind of bleeding too. it was blood all over the ring. the referee came in an counted down with the crowd.

and in a second, you won. "AND HERE IS YOUR WINNER, THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION, THE STAGE KILLER!" you let go of roman's body, kneeling down next to him. the referee helped you on on your feet, giving you the belt. "paramedics needed. paramedics needed." the commentators mouthed to the stage crew. you were crying and you didn't know if it was because you just gave the best performance in your career or because of the stinging pain on your back.

everyone cheered your name and you were practically trying your best to stand up. paramedics arrived, but you shook your head, wanting to stay longer inside the ring. "(y/n), baby. please go." roman's eyes was still filled with worry. "i- i'll be okay, baby." you stuttered. the more you stumbled on your own feet, the more you were convinced to leave the ring. you got down, paramedics helped you out of the way. "we love you (y/n)!" "you were so cool (y/n)!" the noises soon fade away as darkness consumed your vision.

backstage was a mess. people were waiting for the paramedics to say that you were clear to go. your fellow wrestlers already had plans for your celebration, but things went downhill. roman was just sitting in front of the medical room, his legs trembling from anxiety. "dude, she'll be okay, she's suffering from blood loss." jey patted his back, trying to calm him down. "they're stitching her up, apparently the ropes malfunctioned and her back was too exposed to it." jey talked him into a sense of mind.

paramedics came out and roman immediately stood up from his seat. "is she alright?" the question had been roaming around his head. "she's awake now, had to stitch her up. she lost a lot of blood because of the incident, but she's okay. she's asking for you." roman nodded and entered the room. you were lying on your stomach. "hey baby, look. i got stitches!" roman couldn't help but to laugh at your positivity.

you saw his expression and it was still the same from earlier, he was worried. "come on, baby. don't be worried, i'm okay. it was just blood loss." you nagged. "how can i not be worried, you were bleeding your ass off and you still wanted to continue the match? you could've asked me to end it quickly." he said. "and let everyone down? you know i wouldn't do that... please don't worry too much about me." roman shook his head.

"baby..." roman softly spoke. "of course i'm worried. i love you and i don't want anything to happen to you." he confessed. "i know baby, but i'm fine now. and i'm the universal champion, i have nothing to fear." you pushed your body up, trying to sit down with the fresh stitches on your back. "you're amazing, love. i'm so proud of you. my girl, a universal champion?" he smiled and you could feel butterflies in your stomach. no matter how hard it got, you knew that by just seeing his smile, things would be alright.

losing was not a bad thing, roman thought. seeing you all jolly and excited over your new title got him smiling again. he was so lucky to have you in his life. "i love you." "and i love you too."

he remembered something. "oh and when you're ready to go out please don't mind everyone, they're too excited and worried at the same time. they have your favorite ice cream and lesnar got some balloons for you." "AW HELL YEAH, LET'S GET OUT!"

a/n: hii! hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it bc its my fav one so far,, reminder that requests are always open! (pssttt... someone pls request a cody fic i want to write him)

#roman reigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #the usos #wwe #wwe imagines #paul heyman #wrestling #cody rhodes #brock lesnar #jimmy uso #jey uso #solo sikoa #the bloodline #bloodline imagines

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