#like. the way things are so similar yet so *different* from each other

[alastor-simp]

Caught In Her Web - Angel Dust x Zestial Daughter Reader

❥Summary- Zestial is holding a special event for all of the spider demons in Hell, and surprisingly Angel Dust was invited. It was hard for him to vibe with this kinda crowd, but that all change when he met Zestial's daughter

❥Tags: Angel Dust x Reader, Zestial , Zestial Daughter, Female Spider Demon, Hell Event, First Meeting, Developing Relationships, Fluff.

❥Notes: This is a request from my friend ValerieWinks777 on Wattpad. Decided to post it here as well for all of you to enjoy.

"Y/N? Hast thou finished getting dressed?" Zestial, your father, knocked on your bedroom door, curious if you were in your proper attire for this evening. "Almost Father. I'll be right out." You called out, as you slowly zipped up your dress from behind. Your name was Y/N, and you were the daughter of the powerful overlord, Zestial. Your birth happened between the undying love between Zestial and your deceased mother, who sadly passed away during your birth. Zestial took it upon himself to raise you properly with care and love. Similar to him, you possessed spider like features similar to him as well. While being the daughter of Zestial, your personality leaned more towards a rebellious nature, but you still carried yourself with grace and kindness, something that you had obtained from your mother.

Today was the day of the Spider Festival, it was a common event that Zestial held for the sophisticated spider demons of the Pride Ring, and this time you would be able to attend as you were now old enough to watch over yourself. Taking a look in the mirror again, you smiled as you watched your beautiful dress swaying in the reflection.

“Perfect.” You said to yourself, as you made your way to the door, opening it to see your father standing, wearing a heartwarming smile. “How beautiful thou look. The dress suits thou perfectly.” Zestial placed a hand on your cheek, giving it a little pinch, earning a laugh from you. “Thank you, father.” Zestial removed his hand, and began to walk to the castles ballroom, with you following next to him. “This shall be thy first time attending the festival. Try to hast fun, yet also forbear mischief. Many of the guests are close friends of mine, so I wouldn’t crave 'em to regard mine daughter is a silly little wench.” You felt your stomach tightened at that. Last thing you wanted was your father to see you as a disappointment. You nodded your head at that, face wearing a somber look. Zestial caught on to your reaction, and stopped walking, leaning closer to wrap you in a hug. “Forgive me. 'I didn’t intent to causes thee upset. All I do lack is for thou to hast a fun night and enjoy the festivities. Possibly meet someone whom suits thy interests.” Hugging your father back, you told it was alright, while also laughing at the last thing he said. Zestial chuckled before removing himself, as the both of you headed to your destination.

The ballroom was decorated, from head to toe in webs, giving it an eerie feeling. The chandelier hanging above was lit with colorful flames, basking the ballroom with beautiful colors. The tables were covered in delicious hors d'oeuvres and cakes for the guests to enjoy, along with a large glass bowl containing refreshing punch. The guests were all a mix of different spider species demons, some as black widows and others as wolf spiders. Both you and Zestial had made your way down the stairs, causing everyone to stop and stare, as well as bowing to the both of you. Zestial smiled with pride and addressed everyone in the ball room. “Greetings ev'ryone. Thanketh thee f'r attending tonight’s festival. I desire thee all enjoyeth tonight and has't a pleasant exp'rience as at each moment” Zestial gave a small bow, while you gave everyone a polite curtesy, earning a small applause from the guests.

Zestial had to go and speak to his old friends, so he motioned you to go on and enjoy yourself, as he departed you. Feelings of anxiety began to rise in you, as you felt like a bug underneath a magnifying glass, being watched by everyone. You slowly made your way to the ballroom, observing everyone and making idle chat with some of the guests. Your emotions had finally calmed down, but you still felt a sense of unease. Probably due to it being the first time you attended the festival. As you wondered aimlessly, your eyes darted towards a tall peculiar spider. He certainly wasn’t someone you recognized. Out of all of the spiders you had seen, he was the only one that was coated in all white fur. He was wearing a black and pink tuxedo and tall heal-like boots. His hair was puffed up and slightly curled, and his heterochromatic eyes were very mesmerizing. You didn’t know what had possessed you to want to talk to him, but you body slowly made your way over to him.

Angel Dust POV

“Alright alright. This ain’t so bad. Just be yourself and not make a scene” Angel dust whispered to himself, as he observed the higher rank demons around him, as they conversed with each other and danced to the music playing in the back. Angel Dust still couldn’t believe he was even attending a fancy shamancy thing like this. He only got roped into going by Charlie, who heard about the event and advised Angel to go and make some friends, while also promoting the hotel a bit. Angel had expected the event to just be some typical orgy party, but not this. He knew how famous he was in Pride, given his porn status, but he knew he stood nowhere near the same level as the others here. He could feel the hard stares being directed at him, knowing he didn’t belong to this. “This is stupid. Should have never agreed to come to this little shindig.” Mumbling to himself, Angel motioned over to the punch bowl, pouring himself a drink, thinking that it may help calm him down. A sudden tap on his shoulder behind him, made him turn around. His eyes widen at the sight of you behind him. He had never seen the likes of you before, but my lord, weren’t you quite the looker. Your warm smile and eyes were looking at him, which confused him greatly.

“Hello. Are you alright, by chance? You seem a tad bit nervous.” You calmly spoke to him, while he continued to stare at you in awe. Shaking his head, he moved one of his hands to fluff his hair a bit. “ Y-eah yeah. I’m all good.” Nervously answering your question, he shot a small smile back at you. The two of you continued to stare at each other, before Angel sighed in front of you. “Sorry. I ain’t use to this kinda scene. More of a club life kinda demon.” His response earned a laugh from you. “Don’t worry. I’m not use to this kinda thing either. It’s my first time attending this festival. I’m guessing it’s the same for you?” Angel nodded his head, as he sip his beverage, but he quickly stopped, confused at your answer. “Whatcha mean it’s your first time? You look like you have been to a million of these fancy events. Especially when your dressed like that.” Angel pointed up and down at your dress, making you blush. “Haha. I wasn’t old enough to attend before, but now that I’m older, I can attend by myself. So we are in the same boat, you and I.” Kindly smiling back, you moved closer to him and stood next to his side, leaning back a bit against the table holding the punch bowl. Angel just continued to watch you, while you heard him mumble and “I guess.”

Standing next to each other in silence, the both of you watched the others around you, until you heard the man next to you speak up. “The name is Angel Dust. What’s your name, toots..I mean miss.” He quickly corrects himself, causing you to giggle. “Haha. First time I have been called that. My name is Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angel.” You turned towards him, and gave a small curtsy, while he followed back with an awkward bow and then a handshake. You noticed he still looked a bit uncomfortable being surrounded by all these upper class demons, so you grabbed one of his hands. "Hey, we can go outside, if you want." Angel dust's eyes shot for a bit before he gave you a small smirk, saying "Lead the way." You held his hand as the both of you made your way through the crowd of demons, before you were stopped by a voice behind you. "Where are thou off to, mine sweet?" Turning around your father was standing behind you, eyes glowing in confusion. "Oh father! I was just going out to the outside garden with my new friend. Is that alright?"

Angel Dust nearly fainted from shock. This tall scary-a** demon was your dad, and an overlord as well?! His hands quickly started to fidget, thinking your dad was gonna kill him for simply conversing with you. Zestial eyes scanned Angel up and down, without any emotion on his face. Whispers could be heard from behind you, from the other demons, mostly saying "What is a commoner demon doing here?" "Wait, isn't that demon part of Valentino's group?" Your eyes widen at what you heard. How rude! Why did it matter what field of work he was it? He seemed like a friendly demon, and they shouldn't be so quick to judge a book by its cover. "Y/N. May i speaketh to thee in private?" Your dad had placed a hand on your shoulder, moving you away from Angel, who watched you with a sad expression. Both you and your dad had moved to speak against one of the pillars. "Dad, I know your going to tell me not to speak to him, but he's not a bad guy I swe-" Zestial had cut you off by placing a hand up, telling you to stop talking. You expected he was mad at you, but his face didn't show it. "It is alright y/n. I told thou to converse with other demons, didst i not? That young man possesses a kind soul, yet he hath been chained down and ridiculed by others. Do not let him slip past thou, mine sweet. Now run along!"

Your dad motioned his hand for you to go. Smiling, you gave him a quick hug and went to go back to Angel Dust. He wasn't in the spot you had last saw him, and began to look for him, heading to the courtyard. Angel Dust walked along the path that lead to the castle gardens. The area was covered in exotic plants, along with small statues of mini gargoyles. Hugging his arms around himself, Angel took at seat on the grass, heaving a sigh. He knew what had happened when your dad pulled you away. He could hear the negative things he was probably calling him right now, telling you not to associate with a whore like him. The sounds of feet stepping on the grass alerted him, and he turned seeing you coming towards him, with a smile. "Oh thank goodness. I thought you left." He watched your figured move closer to him, before taking a seat on the grass as well, causing your dress to ruffle up. "How are ya out here right now? Didn't your dad just speak to ya about me?" Angel exclaimed. You laughed at his reaction, saying it was alright and that your dad didn't mind at all.

The both of you just sat in silence, while you gazed around the garden and up at the blood red sky. "I don't care, you know." Angel looked at you in confusion, wondering what you meant. "About you being a sex worker or whatever. I don't care what rank you are or what you do for work. I would just like to get to know you." The lovely smile you aimed at him was making his heart skip a beat. Angel was at a loss for words at what you said. He was used to the ugly looks and stares people gave him when they knew what line of work he did, but you were the first that didn't care about any of that. Angel shook his head, chuckling as he smirked at you, flashing his gold tooth. "Ya wanna know me toots? Haha, buy me dinner first at least." You quickly laughed at his response, as you smiled back at him.

The two of you continued to chat amongst yourself in the castle gardens, discussing your hobbies and interests like music, fashion choices and what not. The both of you were just lost in each other, just enjoying each others presence and laughing at each others jokes. "HAHAHA no way your boss has that bad sight." You cackled, as Angel continue to tell his story. "AHAHA I'm serious toots. He can barely see whats on his phone half the time. It probably takes him hours to even send a text to anyone." He laughed out, as you followed along with him. Sadly, the peaceful evening the both of you had was coming to an end. Still wanting to spend more time with him, you walked with him back to the front of the castle, where a limo was waiting for him. "I really enjoyed tonight Angel. I would love to spend more time with you again." The fluff on his face, became dyed a soft pink, as he rubbed his neck with one of his hands. "Tonight wasn't all bad. I-I can give you my cell, if you wanna chat again." You widen your eyes at that, happy that he wanted to meet again. "Well, I don't have a cell phone at the moment. My dad is a little old fashioned, but I'm sure he can give me one if I ask him." Angel smiled back at you, as he pulled out a small pen from somewhere in his pocket, as he wrote his number on your palm. He soon hopped into the limo, and shut the door. The window rolled down, and he flashed a smile back at you, along with a wink. "See ya around, toots." You smiled back at him, as you nodded your head, waving him goodbye, as the limo drove off.

Back at the Hotel

Angel dust heaved out a tired sigh as he walked through the hotel doors. Charlie happened to be awake, wanting to stay up to make sure Angel made it home okay. "OH ANGEL!!! YOUR BACK!! HOW WAS IT?! DID YOU HAVE FUN? DID YOU MAKE ANY NEW FRIENDS?" Charlie enthusiastically chattered along. Angel was a bit too tired to answer all of Charlie's questions, so he just said it was okay and that he did meet a cool person at the party. Charlie was happy that Angel enjoyed himself and that he met someone there, but she knew he was exhausted, so she wished him a goodnight, while giving him a quick hug before running off back to her bedroom. Angel smiled at Charlie's cute actions, as he made his way upstairs to head to his bedroom.

Entering inside his room, he deeply sighed as he shrugged off his clothes and removed his shoes. Fat Nuggets was awake and ran up to him, oinking happily while trying to climb up on of his legs. "Aww Did-ja miss me?" Angel cooed, picking up Fat Nuggets and kissing him on his head. Angel walked over to his bed, and laid back on it, reminiscing about this evening. He couldn't stop thinking about you. Everything about you, your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your jokes was giving him butterflies. He wasn't use to this kinda feeling before, and it made him feel funny. You weren't what he expected when he first saw you. You were the daughter of one of the most powerful overlords in Pride, and yet instead of being a snotty bit**, you were thoughtful and compassionate. Even when you knew what he did, you still treated him normally, which made him melt. He felt trapped, caught actually, in your web. His body and soul was wrapped in your sticky threads and instead of struggling, he accepted it.

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[the-cards-she-wont-show]

TTPD Twin Storylines weaved together & double meanings throughout! ✌️👯‍♀️💕

Attention ALL Swifties (particularly Gaylors) and associates of the Tortured Poets department

PLEASE READ!! (and read with an open mind!!)🤍

Listening to the amazing TTPD on repeat this past week, I am certain that I have made an important discovery that I haven't seen talked about anywhere else yet and would like to get the coversation going, in hopes that Taylor will see that we are all finally listening to her! I'm still piecing everything together, as there is so much to unravel and am far from calling myself an expert on her exact timelines and dates, so am looking forward to hearing thoughts from others that are more knowledgable in her history.

I have been of the belief for a while now that Mastermind and Dear Reader were foretelling of her future, and also that the album title had a double meaning (evidenced by the lack of apostrophe in 'poets'). That the tortured poet would be departing. Note that I am also a believer that she has been closeted by those closest to her and is preparing to ruin her name and perceived reputation, give up the false public version of herself and come into her own true self. Everything as we know it will be destroyed and it is all playing out now, coming together as part of her plan.

Falling in line with all of the two's - the double album, the double meaning in the album name, the two sides of taylor etc, I have found that there are two intertwining stories told throughout her tracklist, AND that all songs also have a double meaning!! None of which are about the perceived muses of Travis, Matty or Joe. The 'evidence' for those relationships are all red herrings (for example 'putting narcotics into all of my songs' - but only in the songs with obvious reference to her beards), to make it seem ambiguous and open to interpretation of who the songs may be about, which is seen often throughout her discography. She uses an incredible amount of metaphors and we must look beyond those to decipher her lyrics - do not take anything at face level with Taylor. Most should realise that she is so much smarter than making obvious songs about whichever male muse she is 'dating' at the time. She has always played into that public view to cover her true self. Many songs have themes of secret and hidden love, which juxtaposes with the public 'relationships' she is seen as having.

She tells us in 'The Manuscript' that "lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward". Therefore we must listen to TTPD in reverse, from track 31 (13 reversed!) to track 1. I believe The Manuscript also acts as a bookend for both of her stories and should be listened to as a closer after the last song of the story 'Fortnight' ends, to get a complete picture. Once we have listened to the album in reverse order, can we see so plainly that each song tells a different story of a period/situation/muse/love/heartbreak in her life - beginning at her parents meeting in The Manuscript, to current day. I think the songs may also actually have a sister song from the corresponding album/period in time, with similar sound, lyrics or theme that connects them. I believe that each song also has a double meaning and can be interpreted as messages to her fans about things that have happened to her over the years or that are about to happen, and she is trying to communicate her feelings of being trapped, which is honestly so heartbreaking. Many relate to her being caged and forced to hide her true self, in particular by one person closest to her - her father. It is devastating to listen to.

The really brilliant part I discovered next, is that The Anthology tracks also have another hidden storyline being told which intertwines and intersects in the exact right place to fit in with her life story. It includes all of the "THE" songs and is in reverse order from the parallel life story and vinyl variants order of issue (but chronological track list order).

The Tortured Poets Department

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The Alchemy

The Black Dog

The Albatross

The Prophecy

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Rather than presenting my interpretation of the timeline and each story told in every song, I urge everyone to listen to both stories, in these exact orders, with an open mind as to what she could possibly be describing! My mind was completely blown when I figured this out!! Her mind is incredible, there is no other way to describe the album, other than a masterpiece! I feel so much for the pain she has gone through. This album explains her feelings and reasons for hiding her true self over the years for any fans that will inevitably be feeling upset and deceived. We all need to show compassion for everything Taylor has sacrificed and give her what she needs. She truly deserves love, honesty, happiness and peace. ✌️💜

I'm in the process of creating a document trying to piece all of the hidden connections together just to wrap my head around this amazing body of work, so may possibly link this when I have it completed, otherwise I will add it to this post for anyone that might be interested.

I have a couple of extra personal thoughts, theories and hopes for anyone still reading…

The manuscript of her life story may possibly be the manuscript for a future book/film.

I think one meaning of "Fortnight" is a foretelling message to the fans that havent been noticing any of her many hair pin drops - she has been trying to get the message across but they aren't listening. For the fans she loses when she comes out - she touched them with this album for only a fortnight, before she lost them. She loves the fans but staying in the closet is ruining her life. I think something big could be happening a fortnight after release? Friday 3rd May is International Sun Day. ☀️ Karlie Kloss was always 'sunshine' to Taylor. According to Karlie, their first meeting was at the 2011 Met Gala on May 2, however, there is a possibility that they could have met at the afterparty - after midnight, making the anniversary May 3! 2024 Met Gala is a few days later, could they both make an appearance? If nothing big occurs, perhaps some seeds of doubt will be planted on the 3rd? Or.. It could also be a surprise rep TV (with or without Karma and Debut - surprise triple drop?) with wlw vault tracks?! Who really knows.. I honestly have no idea, but whatever happens, I know Taylor has it all meticulously planned out and everything will happen when it is supposed to.

Taylor is chairman of the Tortured Poets department - the leader of the mass coming out we are about to see. As Chely Wright put - 'we need someone at the top' to come out and pave the way for others to do the same, and to stop the forced closeting in the celebrity world. I think Travis and the majority of her former beards are also queer and there will be many more 'tortured poets' that will join 'the department'.

Karma will be album 1 (TS12) in the 3,2,1 countdown, TS13 is 0 - the album in which she gets all of her full colour back, reclaims her glitter gel pens and finally can sing her truth proudly! She has destroyed her own name and reputation, burnt down the lover house and all her former selves.

Last of all, PLEASE BE KIND! If anyone has made it to the end of this and doesnt agree, I'd love for you to have a listen to the songs in the orders above before commenting. If not, lets just agree to disagree! We all have our own personal takes on Taylor's lyricism and I would never dream of being unkind to another just for having a difference of opinion. 🫶

For Taylor - if you somehow happen to see this - please know you are truly a mastermind, you are loved and we've got you!

🌈💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌈

❤️ gerimegs

#taylor swift #gaylor #kaylor #ttpd #thetorturedmusesdept #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets dept #taylorswift #swifties #taylornation #tsttpd #taylor swift eras #erastour

[l0uterstella]

CHARACTER DESIGN NOTES FROM THE 4GAMER INTERVIEW

🍎 HALLRITT - "I told them that I absolutely wanted to include the ribbon in the upper right corner, no matter how cute it turned out to be. It also includes the image of Kitty's blue overalls on his suspenders. The yellow ribbon on his boots is an image of Kitty's twin, Mimmy."

🎼MEROLD - "He was drawn together with Blue Bouquet's Kurode. My Melody wears a hood, as she was originally designed as a "Little Red Riding Hood". The slit on the side was inspired by the design of the slit under My Melody's neck."

🍀PURUTH - "Since Pompompurin is a golden retriever, one of many dog designs, the belt-like thing coming out of his waist has the image of a leash. The shoes on the left and right sides are different, reflecting Purin's hobby of collecting and hiding one shoe on each side."

🌹 ROMARRICHE - "The silhouette of Marroncream's puff sleeves is expressed by wearing a cape. The floral pattern and polka dots are also inspired by her. We have not yet shown the back view, but there is also a lot of attention to detail hidden in the cape."

🐟 RIMICHA - "Kirimi-chan was the first runner-up in the "Eating Character General Election," so we gave him a distinctive mouth. Also, the asymmetry of his hair expresses their (Kirimichan) original silhouette, which is voluminous on the right side. The fishnet stockings are an image of a grill…!"

🌺 SANAH - "Usahana is a character who values the colorful colors she gets from the sky and flowers, so we took advantage of that. Also, around the year 2000, when Usahana debuted, sticker exchanges were popular, so we also incorporated that image into the design."

☁ CIELOMORT - "While also expressing Cielomort's royal and mysterious image, we incorporated motifs from Cinnamoroll, such as "clouds," "sky," and "white puppy". Cinnamoroll is also characterized by his swirling tail, so we made Cielomort's hair curly as well."

👿 KURODE - "As far as the spiritual nature is concerned, the theme of "becoming who you want to be" is the basis of Kuromi's work, and it makes use of the visual sense of "The World Kuromification Project". In contrast to the fluffy cuteness of Merold, I imagined a darker cuteness."

✉️ WILLMESH - "Wish Me Mell is a postman's helper, so he is given a mail bag and a brooch with a sealing wax motif. The polka dot pattern on Wish Me Mell's palm is reproduced with a polka dot bandage."

💫 KLARKSTELLA - "Kiki and Lala are "dreamy and cute" and "starry-eyed," so we developed them from there and based the costume on the image of pajamas. The twin-leaf-like hair on the top of her head is also inspired by Kiki and Lala. Another point is that they are tall."

🌟 LOUTERSTELLA - "His basic image is just the same as Klarkstella's, but we were careful to not simply make them different colors. They both have a dreamy atmosphere, but not too cute, and I think they have beautiful designs with a mythological mystery."

🌾 MYUNNA - "The design of the "spirit of flour" is based on the "fragile cuteness" of Cogimyun, who looks as if he might be blown away and turned into powder. Also, the back of his dress is a silhouette of Cogimyun's pet shrimp, and the decorations on his shoes are also based on her signature."

🐊 BADOBARM - "Bad Badztamaru's mischievous boyish atmosphere has been reproduced as a life-size male figure. Also, the "Xs and Os" shape, which is often used by Bad Badztmaru himself, is used in many of the costume decorations. By the way, Badztmaru's pet crocodile is called "Pochi," while the crocodile-shaped fairy with Badobarm is "Tama.""

🐶 CHACO - "We tried to express Pochacco's silhouette and his skateboarding element with the image of a very active child. We were particular about the balance of colors so that it would not be monotone, so we gave the hair color a unique look so that it would not be similar to other children."

🐣 ARUPEK - "From Ahiru No Pekkle's treasured bucket, we gave him a water pistol as an element for water. The large feet are also reproduced in his shoes. The hunting cap has a bird-like silhouette. The "1989" on the patch is Pekkle's debut year!"

🐧 TUXAM - "Tuxedo Sam is a gentlemanly penguin boy who has studied abroad in England, so we kept his noble image in mind. His hat is a combination of the sailor hat Sam wears and the hat of Sherlock Holmes... Who is famous in England. On the stick is an ice cream cone that Sam often spills."

🐙 HANGYON - "We designed the bewitching element based on Hangyodon, a half-fish man born in China. The round eyes are represented by sunglasses, and the pink color of Hangyodon's lips is incorporated into the lenses and makeup. The fairy on his shoulder, "Lily," was inspired by Sayuri, an octopus who is a good friend of Hangyodon."

🐸 PIKERO - "Since his lord's real name is "Keroppi Hasunoue (Keroppi above a lotus)", we added a black pattern to the umbrella to make it look like a lotus leaf. Also, it is hard to tell, but his eyes are pink, which represents the color of Keroppi's cheeks. His overall image is not Chinese, but Vietnamese."

#VIETNAMESE PIKERO I FUCKING WIN #they wont give me my disabled pikero hc but at least i get seasian pikero........................ #give us their back references NOW #fragaria memories #fragmem #red bouquet #blue bouquet #noir bouquet #hallritt #merold #puruth #romarriche #rimicha #sanah #cielomort #kurode #willmesh #klarkstella #louterstella #myunna #badobarm #chaco #arupek #tuxam #hangyon #pikero #>> quincy translates

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 7: conversation

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

' “I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy," she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn't even blink.

“I’m not.” You are. '

---

Megumi calls you back. You leave for Tokyo again, like a soul yearning for its body.

word count: ~6k; tws: none for now :)!!

19-6-2018

“So you’re really going to let go of them now?” your father asks. 

“...yeah.” 

“That’s good. I’ll miss that Itadori boy, though.” 

You will, too. 

In a way you suppose Megumi and Yuuji are very similar. They’d go well together, be good, fast friends and all that. 

They’re both undoubtedly good people, no matter how they’ve beat people up before and how different their beliefs may be. 

In Megumi’s case, everyone knew how good a person Tsumiki was, her younger brother included. Her kindness and virtue extended itself, inspiring other people around her. But Megumi was a good person, too— polite, patient (most of the time, unless it were Gojo— but who wouldn’t be annoyed by that man, right?), kind in his own way. He cared for you in all sorts of ways in the past, even then you could tell, gentle with animals and objects and your hand. Gentle in his own way. Giving you reminders despite the tiny calumniations sprinkled in (they barely do as much damage as comb bristles can), being sharp because he must have had to, kind because it was in his very nature. Easy on the eyes, tall, deep soothing voice— he ticked all the boxes for that, too. You bet that if things were different, and the two of you had stayed in touch with each other, you’d have fallen deeply in love with it by now. Yet that thought only makes you feel sour now that things hadn’t gone that way at all. 

And Yuuji, too— there was no explanation needed for Yuuji. Even Megumi could tell he was a good person. And at some times he was almost like Tsumiki. You weren’t ever surprised that you’d caught feelings for him, because— who wouldn’t? He was always popular, even if he was ignorant of his own charm around others. But he wasn’t just a good guy with a ripped torso, he was honest, perceptive and smart in conversations. Smarter than he ever credited himself for. Smart in a way you could never be— people with cute faces, nice bodies and good social skills were in a league of their own, practically. You’d thought that for a long time. 

Did either of them ever know how you felt? 

Probably not. Your heart was guarded, intensely so, and you’d never lay your feelings bare and out so easily. You weren’t the type of person to say you loved people as easily as others did, even within your own family. 

This, you presume, is probably an acquired trait, now that you think about it. You were much more different as a child, free with praise and love and unabashed affection as well as appreciation for the people around you. What changed?

(Everything.) 

You miss 2010. You miss Tsumiki the way you miss your mother’s cooking, miss her the way you miss when you wrote emails and letters and text messages to her with multi-coloured pens or your old phone that eventually broke a year after. You miss the conversations the two of you had, miss how you used to be your parents’ little angel. 

And in the end it all comes back to that, doesn’t it? 2010. Nostalgia. Reminiscing on old memories in a way akin to how the elderly do in their youth. That just made you seem more pathetic, because, weren’t you supposed to be making those memories right now, at this time of your life? 

You’re a teenager. You should be going out with friends, and having fun, not rotting at home ruminating on the past, with the only friends you’ve ever had hundreds of kilometres away from you (you weren’t sure if you could even call one of them a ‘friend’ anymore), and your acquaintances not close enough to replace them (how could they ever? How could there ever be a replacement for Yuuji?) 

In a way you feel your life is miserable: awkward, socially-impaired teenage girl with her only friend practically out of her life at this point; nothing special to your name besides a cursed technique that most times does you more harm than good; stuck not being able to completely get over friends she met at eight who left her as quickly as someone can blink their eyes; with the thinking process of a nagging, stubborn mother sometimes, or if not that then a blurry, mingled train of thought that gets delayed or lost when moving from station to station; someone not of use at all. Not miserable, you think to yourself like a slap to the face, pathetic. 

You’re not sure how Tsumiki is now— maybe she has a partner, or better friends than you were, or she’s busy being president of the student council or something (she’d be a sterling leader, of that you’re certain, that girl who you’d always known was bound to go places in the span of her lifetime). 

Hopefully, she’s alright, and doing the best she can in life. That’s all you wish for when it comes to Tsumiki. 

At this point, there’s no point in wishing to join them, or to linger on them and memories of the past. It’s a mosquito in summer heat, which is why, if it stays, you decide, you’ll just suppress and ignore it until it goes away. Even if you didn’t know how long it would take you to get over them— weeks, months, but goodness forbid a whole lifetime or forever— you needed to accept that you’d be like this for nearly the rest of your life: pathetic, lonely— ah, that’s the word that so very perfectly delineates the situation you’re in— and then some. 

So that’s why, when you hear your phone buzzing on your bed like a cicada during a balmy night, you assume it’s someone else. Yuuji must be busy settling in (he’s been texting you, and you took that as a sign that he wouldn’t call), and Megumi must be… —Well. Megumi has made a promise, and it’s not that you don’t believe in him, but it would be better to expect less than what you’d like to in order to evade disappointment. 

Must be someone else. A prank call, or a scammer, or something. Or a telemarketer, but you’d be surprised if telemarketers were calling you and not your father. And you were never one to pick calls up mindlessly anyway, so if it were some stranger out to get you or swindle you, you’d just hang up or check the number. 

If not either a scam or a telemarketer (well you suppose both of those could be scams in certain contexts), though, then you’d suspect it would be either Yuuji (Yuuji’s the one who has been texting you, after all, conversations strewn over checking in with the other over the past few hours or snippets of advice from you telling him not to bother Megumi very much, and to be cautious and keep himself safe) or Gojo— definitely not Megumi, and probably not Gojo either, but still it was more likely that Gojo was calling you instead of Megumi, so you’re considering it— and you can’t really remember Gojo’s number anyway, so what if an unknown number wasn’t a prank call or something—

You wonder if you should just pick it up instead of burying your head in your study notes and overthinking everything. 

But you know it’s definitely not Megumi. 

You check the phone. 

Well, you’ll be damned. 

It’s Fushiguro Megumi. 

You know his number by heart, after all. Keyed it in too many times to forget, and it’s not like he’d have any reason to change it. Not with the way he cares for things, inanimate objects, not with the tenderly quiet, secretly caring, emotionally jaded way he maintains them. 

“Ah… hello?” 

Your heart thumps in your chest and heat flares up in your cheeks with a frenetic speed. 

“Hi,” you blurt out, shakily. You’re sure your voice is quivering, yet your mind feels like it’s barely functioning, almost about to drown in a seven-feet-deep pool, so you can’t really tell. You can’t really hear yourself. 

You don’t know why you feel like this— no, you know exactly why, actually. It’s because you haven’t gotten over him. Your thoughts are scrambled but you know, for sure, that you’re like this because you want to get rid of feelings like these but you can’t. Or because you’ve been saying that to yourself like a mantra, for so long, even though a part of you wants it to stay— out of what, that’s what you don’t know; maybe desperation or nostalgia or an inability to stop dwelling on days long gone. But you know what this is— you’ve seen the movies, read the manga, watched the dramas. It’s romance. Crushes. Something you’re not quite able to call love yet, something you’re too scared to properly name, still, but something you can understand is one-sided nonetheless. 

“…hi. [Name].” 

“Hello…” 

What happens when two estranged childhood friends with a book’s worth of history behind their relationship that happen to be socially awkward teenagers actually have a conversation semi-beyond what keeps them estranged in the first place? 

“Hi— no, wait… how are you?” 

Pot, meet kettle, because you’re going off nothing but the fact that you’re at the very least surprised (the other emotions are too complicated to explain) that he’s speaking to you again, and not just on text, but he’s calling, and he sounds like he’s reading off a script, but the script is in a whole other language, somehow, and the uncertain nervousness in his voice is tangible, even for a deep, low voice like his. 

Script or not, you appreciate the effort, though. 

“I’m good, um… I’m happy you were able to call. It’s been a long time.” 

“That’s good.” 

There’s silence on the other line; time feels like it’s moving achingly slowly. But you’re mildly happy. 

Not happy, maybe, but you definitely feel light, as if you’ve been severed from the heaviness of everything else that has happened lately. This is the first time in years something like this has ever happened. 

“Ah, wait, I forgot to ask! Sorry, um.. how are you?” 

“I’m doing alright, too. Oh, wait, I should apologise. I didn’t tell you— thanks for helping with my injuries the other day. Gojo told me about it after you left. You… you didn’t have to, though. You shouldn’t have risked your health like that.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t mention it. You know why I do this, anyway.” Out of necessity or a need to be useful, you’re not even sure yourself, but he must know, to some degree, right? It seems as if he’d be the one to know the most of this, of you— at least, when matters came to this. “And I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Dr Ieiri probably ended up helping more with the bigger ones once the three of you got back. I mean, she did, right?” 

“…no. She said that she didn’t want to waste her time, so if injuries were more minor like mine, she wouldn’t heal them fully.” 

“...ah.” More minor? Seriously, doctor? You’d normally not question her judgement over matters that she had more expertise in dealing with, but seriously? 

“I’ll be fine, though. Most of the bandages have come off, and all.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

You wonder where he is now, on the bed, maybe, or sitting on the floor. You’ve seen the classrooms, but not the dormitories— you hope wherever he is, that it’s comfortable. That he’s okay. 

“We’re going to see a new student soon.” 

“Really? Have you met them before?” 

“No, but Gojo said she’s from the countryside. But we’re meeting her in Harajuku, for some reason.” 

“Oh, Harajuku! I miss it,” you let out a plaintive sigh, “I can’t wait to be back in Tokyo. You know, whatever happens, I still love that city like nothing else. I know how many people hate it, but I love it so much.” And you love it so much in the first place, mostly because of Megumi and Tsumiki. “Maybe she just wants to chase a bit of the sweet city life— I mean, you know how it is when country bumpkins go to the city for the first time… kind of. Or when they love the city— yeah, that’s a better way of saying it. I was like that, kind of.” 

“...if you’re worried about the train ride here and want to travel alone, I could always pay for you. Uh… wait—” 

“Oh, no, no! There’s no need, uhm— thank you anyway, it’s just—” 

“It’s Gojo’s money anyway.” 

“Pft,” you snort. Anything to seep out some of Gojo’s money like gluttonous leeches, right? “Nah, I’ll be fine. I mean, I don’t even think I’ll be able to come back in a few years’ time, and by then I won’t even be relying on my parents’ money for this stuff anymore— I mean, I will still be relying on their money, but I’ll be managing it as my own.” 

He chuckles lightly over the line, the silent way he shows his emotions, the way that goes unnoticed if one is not attentive to it. It feels like he’s whispering directly into your ear, and the heat on your face (which you weren’t even sure was still there until that point). Your heart skips a beat and it completely, absolutely shocks you. “...the offer still stands.” 

Yeah, you can get behind it if he’s like this now. What happened to him, anyway? Puberty hit him like a brick and gave him, like, one more ounce of emotional maturity? 

You shake your head like a character in a piece of crappy romance fanfiction. No way. Not now, at least. Calm down. 

(...you’re just a girl.) 

“Well, no take backs from now on, okay? Even if it’s, like, five years into the future, you’ll still be using Gojo’s credit card to cover for all my travel expenses.” 

He does it again, that low, soft, attractive sound. Makes you want to hit him and hit yourself at the same time, and then kick your feet up in the air giddily, and then throttle yourself, if it were possible, out of sheer embarrassment. “Yeah.” 

You’re having the time of your life. 

“Anyway, how is everything else? Like, are your studies and grades okay? Is the training you do alright to handle?” 

“My grades are pretty okay,” he answers, “Not like Gojo cares, honestly. And the training’s fine, it’s nothing I’m not used to.” 

“Gojo seems like he’d be a good teacher. When he wants to, he can command respect pretty easily, too. I guess he just… chooses not to. But I saw it yesterday, when you and Yuuji were passed out in the hospital.” 

It still strikes a pang of guilt in your chest, your inability to have done anything else besides calling Gojo over for help. 

“...I suppose he does.” 

“Yeah.” 

“How about you? Itadori, he… he can be an idiot sometimes, but he speaks of you really admirably. He talks about how smart you are a lot.” 

The thought of Megumi calling Yuuji an idiot of all things doesn’t feel like it falls short from him, but it still makes you frown— though, you realise that that’s just his way of expressing things, because in a way he’d treated you somewhat the same in the past, even if he hadn’t shown it outright or expressed it very vividly. Classic Megumi. 

“Hey, he’s smarter than people give him credit for, okay? Wait until you see how talented he is at things other than sports and martial arts. You’d be surprised after trying the meatballs he makes. Would be good if you asked him to give you the recipe sometime; I make them, like, once a week, at least.” 

He sighs, “...I will. But the point is, he cares for you a lot.” 

“Yeah, beautiful soul, that guy. Loves people the way curious children love nature.” 

“That would be a fitting way to put it.” 

“How are the dogs?” 

“My shikigami?” 

“Yeah. Do they have names?” 

“The black one is Kuro and the white one is Shiro.” 

“You named them black and white?” 

“Look, I named them when I was barely six years old, and six year olds aren’t exactly the best when it comes to these things…” 

You giggle, “So the name stuck?” 

“Yeah, sort of.” 

Real cute. 

“What about your father? How is he?” 

“He’s okay, but, well. I guess we’re not that close anymore.” 

“...I see.” He probably can’t imagine a version of you who wasn’t immensely close to her parents. You couldn’t then, either. 

“We’ve been talking even less now that my mother’s in the hospital, but at least I get to talk to him before he eats, maybe. I’ve been doing most of the cooking now that my mother isn’t here and my father doesn’t really know how to handle himself in our kitchen without her guidance.” 

“Oh… if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your mother?” 

“Cancer.” 

You can practically hear the gulp he’s taking, the bobbing of his throat— sensitive topic. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s okay, don’t be,” you reassure him, “I should have told you that day anyway. I was just… exploding at everybody on that night. I should apologise— I’m sorry for how badly I treated you.” 

“No,” he goes, “No, you shouldn’t. I understand why you were like that that night. And it was mostly my fault, too, so…” 

“No, no, I’m serious! Feel free to ask almost anything as long as I have actual answers to your questions and all.” 

“Still… I just wanted to know. Sorry if I caused you any trouble.” 

“No— you didn’t do any of that at all, don’t worry! I’m alright with people asking about this. Ah, anyway… besides Yuuji, do you have any friends?” 

“Itadori and I aren’t friends.” 

“Trust me, if I asked him, I bet he’d beg to differ. Yuuji’s like that with people— soon he’ll be more important to you than you could have ever thought at first.”  

“Whatever you say,” he sort of grunts, “But I don’t have any friends, I think… except you, maybe. What about you?” 

You were honestly expecting him not to consider you a friend at all, and at this point so much has happened that wouldn’t even be that bothered if he no longer thought of you as one but called you anyway out of his commitment to his promises, or as an apology. 

“I’m surprised you can still call me a friend,” you say. Calling people instead of talking to them physically does something to your inhibitions. 

“...should I not?” 

“No, no, I’m happy,” you say over the phone. You’ll forget this conversation tomorrow, at least, when the sun has risen and the night returns back the hold you have over yourself, your composure, to you. You’ll act like this never happened. So you’ll say whatever you want to now, disgorging yourself of years of withheld secrets. “I’m happy that we’re still friends. I think I like that. 

“Yeah?” 

“Um— yeah, it seems like a good place to start,” you grin slightly. “And I, well. I don’t really have any friends beyond Yuuji,” —You’re not even sure if Tsumiki still sees you as a friend— “Even if I may have acquaintances like Sasaki or Iguchi it still feels like Yuuji’s one of the only people I can give that kind of title to, so, um… the more the merrier?” 

“That’s… nice.” 

“...it is, isn’t it?” 

“Thank you.” 

Why? “Okay.” 

The two of you go through the next few seconds in silence, time feeling like it’s blending and bleeding into a mix of years and events. You can hear the light, steady sound of his breathing from the other line. If you could, you’d sleep to it— fuck the phone bill, you’ll be the one paying it in your father’s stead this time if it was for this. 

It’s comforting, and you don’t want to break it— the quiet. If he can hear you now, can hear how you’re breathing through a smile with your chest only slightly moving, you hope it feels the same as the sound of his breathing did for you. You hope it feels just like home. Like a warm pillow in the one place you love the most that you bury your head into when the weather gets especially cold. 

“Fushiguro!” 

Oh dear. 

Wincing at the sound of the creaking door’s shrill shriek as it's opened and then hits the wall, you know exactly who it is— you’d recognise that voice anywhere. 

“Is that Yuuji?” 

“Oi! I told you not to barge into my room like that!” Megumi shouts. 

“Huh? You’re calling someone? Sorry. Wait, is it [Name]?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“Hi, Yuuji.” 

“Can I talk to her?” 

“Is it alright if we do, Megumi? Just for a few seconds.” 

“Fine,” he sighs. You can practically hear that eye roll. 

“Yo!” he cheers. 

“Has everything been okay lately?” you ask. 

“Yeah. We’re meeting a new student soon.”

“Ah, yeah. Megumi told me.” 

“—Oh, and my uniform came in! It looks pretty neat.” 

“That’s good. Maybe you can send me a picture once you start wearing it, then.” 

“I will!” 

Things are going better than you thought they would. 

21-6-2018

It’s been a few days now. 

You don’t know Sasaki and Iguchi well enough to call them friends, but the three of you do know each other. You had never decided to change any contacts with them, and considering that they and you were never closer than acquaintances, friends of a friend— you had never really regretted it. But now that Yuuji is gone— and you know he’s not dead, but still— you wonder whether you should have gotten closer to them, just to be less alone once Yuuji left, even if it could not be the way things were with Yuuji. (“I thought I was a pretty lonely guy, and sometimes I still do. Like— I mean, you’re a lonely girl too sometimes, I think,” he had told you as you patched him up.) 

Still, Yuuji and you were two peas in a pod— so they’re bound to ask what happened to him soon enough, especially Iguchi. 

You’ll have to start getting used to spending your Thursdays alone. And then you’d have to start getting used to every other day without him, too. If you went to the arcade or watched movies or sing-screamed the lyrics to English songs you don’t know the Japanese translations of without his presence there, you know how it wouldn’t feel the same. In life it’s not what you do that matters, you’ve come to realise— it’s who you’re doing these things with. That’s what puts meaning to it all and makes all things done in your life worthwhile. 

The two of them pass you by during lunch. 

“[Last Name]? —Oh, hey!” Sasaki says as she turns around. 

You almost scream and run away like a mouse fleeing from the eyes of a vicious house cat, tremors in your voice. “Hello…” 

“Where’s Yuuji, by the way? The occult club’s going to fall apart without him.” 

You pause. “He transferred to another school…” 

“Huh?” she goes, Iguchi almost reeling back in shock. “Transferred? But why? We’ve barely even made it to the middle of the year!” 

“I… I don’t know, it was something really urgent,” 

23-6-2018 

Your room is a cluttered mess— lucky as you are that it’s the weekend, the past week has been a rollercoaster that knocked your room’s usual standard of cleanliness off track. Scattered all over your desk were worksheets, notebooks, graph paper pages and foolscap paper, chicken-scratch writing and meticulous notes scribbled all over them to compensate for your absence the day after the incident took place. 

It isn’t the time or the discipline you lack— it’s just that it’s going to be awfully tedious. You’ll have to wipe your desk again, and clean the walls, and sort through all your clothes, too, since you haven’t been folding them in any way that isn’t merely fastidious and nearly careless. So as you get to work, you suppose that calling someone wouldn’t hurt. 

Maybe you could call Megumi. That would be okay. 

For the past few years, you’ve never noticed it. So when you do, it hits you like a bullet train at the fastest of speeds. 

You miss him. Not just in the way you miss 2010, the way you miss the past, the way you miss and mourn the person you used to be. It had been so obvious for Tsumiki, but not for him, and now that you know this it’ll be another quiet revelation— another rediscovery of fragments of yourself concealed by memories. 

You miss him— all of him; you yearned to be his friend again because he was unlike Tsumiki who you knew cherished you as you did her; you miss him regardless of who he is now, because somewhere inside him is the boy who read dog books and brought you to the school library and ran your finger through water when you burned it. Somewhere inside him is the person who offered to hold your bag as he walked with you through a snowy garden, and helped you when your nose bled. 

So it would be okay to call Megumi right now. 

“Fushiguro speaking.” 

“Hi, Megumi. Are you busy?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Want to call?” 

“Fushiguro!” It’s Yuuji. “Wanna go—” 

“I said I’m not going!” 

You chuckle, “Be nice. Were the two of you supposed to go somewhere?” 

“Nothing important. Gojo said he wanted us to ‘bond’ with each other, so he concluded that we could watch a movie. Some kind of gory horror film or something.” 

He’s… actually making an obvious effort not to scold Yuuji that much or call him some insulting, derogatory term this time… wow. 

“Ah, yeah. Yuuji likes his horror movies.” 

“Anyway, anything urgent you wanted to tell me?” 

“No, I’m just… uh—” you laugh nervously, “I’m just a little bored.” Nowadays you’re not really sure what he’d do— scold you, maybe, or roll his eyes so hard that you can hear it over the line, or he may even flash into a quick bit of awkwardness and hesitation through his words. 

Or maybe— and this was the worst of it all, he’d ask why you were calling him, and his bouts of awkwardness would have only been something temporary, soon to be replaced once again by anger and annoyance, the same he gives to everyone else— even if you knew he didn’t always mean it, per se. No more special treatment for you. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, uh… I have to clean, and usually it’s not as much as what I have to do today, so I just thought that since the only other person in the house is my father and we don’t really talk much anymore, we could, um… chat for a while. Yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Uh-huh, so.” You stand up, leaving your phone on your desk and putting the call on speaker mode. The mountain of papers and books is a wasteland and your desk has been degraded to a landfill— the state of it would make your mother a wailing mess— no, she’d faint instantly as soon as she saw it, becoming worse of a mess than the table itself was. “Anything interesting happened lately?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh—! Yuuji sent me a picture of his uniform the other day. Was that one special?” 

“Yeah. But they let students make adjustments to the uniform, and he said he hadn’t changed anything, so I think that was Gojo’s doing.” 

“Oh, well, that’s Gojo. It suits him, though, right? Not to sound mean or be presumptuous, but…” you chuckle, “When you wear the uniform, you look so formal. It’s not a bad thing— it’s just that Yuuji’s just always been more casual like that. And the red of the hoodie goes with his hair, too!” 

“I guess so.” 

“I can’t imagine you wearing anything other than the default uniform, though. Not to insult you, I mean, you still look good in the normal uniform, I just— can’t imagine it.” You remark, sorting the materials and books by size and subject. You’ve got to handle some of the drawers, too, now that you’ve started and can’t stop your momentum just yet. You can already feel the dust particles that have gathered on whatever is inside them still, jostling around once you’ve taken them out. 

“If you’re going to say it like that, you can just say it outright.” 

“No, no! I mean that I just can’t imagine you wearing, like, Yuuji’s uniform. Wait, what do the other students’ uniforms look like?” 

“The second years?” 

“Yeah. Did they choose the normal ones?” 

“Inumaki did. They have three boys and one girl, but only two of the boys wear the normal uniform. Okkotsu has a special uniform in white.” 

“Oh, I see,” you nod your head, “It’s a nice uniform, though. I wish I could wear a uniform that pretty.” 

“You could always enrol yourself here,” he suggests, “They’d welcome you with open arms.” 

“Maybe they will,” you chuckle, “But my mother would be adamant on me staying in the ‘normal’ world. She’s unyielding like that.” 

“And your father?”

“Wouldn’t mind, at least I don’t think…” you say, “I’ll have to wonder when to tell him if I do end up in jujutsu high; you never know when he’s mad. He’s always unpredictable like that nowadays and it’s not… particularly pleasant.” 

“I see. It would be good if you were here, though. You would be closer to Dr Ieiri that way. And it would do good, because, um… well, I’d like you here. You’d be… good for the people around you here.” 

“Ah, you— you would?” you ask, slightly phased— not like he hasn’t been a bit nicer to you since you’ve seen him again (maybe it was the awkwardness, maybe it was the guilt). “Thank you,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging up sheepishly, heading to the dusty drawer (you haven’t touched it in what feels like years, usually excluding it from your list of things to clean). 

After a scrupulous amount of wiping away at the dust outside of and surrounding it, you open the drawer with a slight bit of anticipation— you don’t expect much, but you’re a person who lingers on the past like a ghost that has forgotten how time has passed. There wouldn’t be much in this drawer to reminisce on, you presume, but you still approach it with an eager fascination— you’re the type to do so, after all. 

Of everything there, the most noteworthy are two things you grabbed almost immediately— you could never forget how they felt, and the weight that they held in your life back then: a letter, addressed but never delivered to the person you were talking to right now, and a cigarette with a hastily scribbled slew of numbers on it and a lipstick mark on its end. 

Oh, that letter. That letter.  

From what you remember, you’ve never rebelled against your parents before. At least, not with anything major— for a long time, you were their good girl, and you never disobeyed them, as much as you wanted to at times. You still are, still stuck with that age-old drive to be useful. (But was there even a point in that anymore? At least, was there one with your parents?). You didn’t picture yourself as any kind of righteous goody-two-shoes, but you definitely weren’t a rebel or a delinquent. You followed their instructions and seldom ever questioned what they told you, and so it had always been subtly implanted in your brain that they would be alright with anything you did or said. Yet the first time you did actually start to question them, you realised that their belief in your ‘obedience’ as pure love— and maybe it was; you loved them so much you were blinded and trusted them with everything and did anything they wanted their baby to do— you realised they only treated you so lovingly if you were not an actual person with your own ideals and beliefs. 

(But they still loved you, right?) 

Even now, you still do obey them and listen to them. If your father needed anything, he could consider it done; if your mother wanted her clothes to be patched up you’d try your utmost best to withstand the pricking of needles and bring it back to her hospital room with bandaged fingers. It was like that with your mother: even if at times it seemed like the only pain she wanted for you was callouses from a pen or pricks from needles, at other times you feel she could have known you’d end up like her, maybe. Maybe she saw it as a curse: the worlds the two of you were born in were different, and she wanted you to stay in yours, lest you die or live in a world of endless pain. 

You’ve been doing it for a long time: being dismissive of yourself, prone to self-prostration, subservient; the lovingness of a mother, the sweetness of a teenage girl (you hoped), the kindness of a caring friend. Maybe it was Tsumiki— maybe it was because you’d always seen this in Tsumiki. She was always smiling, always caring; taking on the weight of motherhood before she could carry the weight of her school bag. Hugging you with her saccharine smile; braiding her hair with gentle hands and holding your wrist with her hair tie on it even gentler. (You still have it with you. You had planned to start taking it off more once Yuuji left, but you suppose some habits take longer than a week to develop.) All while having that sickening, fantastical, mysterious sweetness of a teenage girl in what you now understand could have been a hidden misery— because caring for someone like a mother while suppressing the thoughts that spoke to you to act like a child was something you wanted to replicate until you realised you understood it. And then you no longer wanted to recreate it. (Maybe that was the way it was for every woman or girl you knew: watching someone you loved hurt themself or not being able to do anything to prevent it when they started. Life was a cycle that way. A very annoying, frustrating one full of unfortunate circumstances and wrongly-picked out decks of cards.) 

“…you know what? I think I may be able to come,” you tell him. 

“You don’t have to go against your father for our sake.” 

“No, don’t worry about it. I think I know who to ask for help. Thank you, Megumi.” 

“Hi, Dr Ieiri?” 

“Kid? That you?” she goes, the slightest bit of excitement stark against her usual deadpan tone. “I thought you’d never call because of that old man.” 

“Haha, yeah— sorry to disturb you, but, um, Dr Ieiri? I may want to take you up on that offer, by the way, but um, I’m still on the fence. I mean, I know I want to be like you and do what you do but… I don’t know, I’m not quite sure about leaving the two of them alone here and all. But anyway, I just called you because I wanted to ask if there was, you know, any way you could get me to Tokyo somehow. I need to pass something to someone, but, um… I guess I’m going with this with the hope that I’ll change my mind and join you. But I’m… perpetually on the fence for now, I guess.” 

“Pft,” she snorts, “You little rebel, I’m in. I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thank you so much.” 

24-6-2018 

The decision and the plan were made as swiftly as you could. 

You decide to tell your father— you wouldn’t want to deceive him, after all. At least, you’d give him a quick notice. And then you’d leave. Like a snowflake before the first day of spring. He’ll probably tell your mother.  

“I’m leaving for Tokyo for a while,” you say, “I’ll be back before you can even realise I’m gone. Invitation from Dr Ieiri.” 

25-6-2018

“Why?” your father asks, the night before you leave. He suggested going out together at least once before you left. He always knew when you were making white lies. 

“I guess that maybe I’m just too much like you, Daddy.” 

For the first time in years he hugs you on the doorstep, patting you on the back on the day you’re set to leave. “Make sure you study and work hard,” he reminds you. 

“I’m leaving for Tokyo,” you announce.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy,” she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t even blink. 

“I’m not.” You are. 

“You know, your father travelled all over the country to see me again after we’d first met.” 

“Oh. Okay?” 

“And he’s always been dedicated to his job and dedicated to helping people.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I’m saying that the two of you are very similar. I’ve lived through this story before,” she states, “And you look just like your father right now.” your mother says. She hasn’t smiled the way she used to— you remember it vividly, that vibrant gleam in her, the liveliest and loveliest of life— in ages and you don’t think she will, not now of all times. 

“Really? Sometimes he says I take after you more.” 

“You will.” 

It doesn’t feel like a curse. Even if it usually would make your heart well up in guilt, it doesn’t feel like a curse. 

Maybe she knows that her time is running out. Maybe this is resignation. Whatever it is, you hold her hand first, but you’re also the first one to let the other go, your fingers slipping away from hers. You leave the door for the last time in a while, making another round in your life of that carousel of abandonment and reuniting and departures. 

25-6-2018 

Dr Ieiri greets you with a calm smile on her pallid face. 

“Good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to be back here,” you sigh. 

It is. 

You keep your hand on your other hand’s wrist, holding them in front of you. The cherry hair tie on it feels warm against your skin as you exit the station, summer heat embracing it softly. 

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

#WE'RE FINALLY ON TRACK WITH THE AO3 VER WOOO!! #jjk x reader #take me back (take me with you) #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi #fushiguro megumi #megumi fluff #megumi angst #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x fem!reader #fem!reader #ruer writes #megumi x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #megumi imagine #fanfiction #jjk fanfiction

[live-laugh-lenney]

You should so do a fic where the reader has a podcast (like saving grace) and everyone noticed how comparable she and Arthur seem he. He’s a guest (even though she’s like much more extroverted) would be fun🤞❤️

oh, this would be so cute :'))

if there was one thing yn felt comfortable doing, it was waffling.

she just loved to talk. about anything and everything, from what she had read on twitter to what she had heard about online to a brand new documentary that she had taken an interest in when flicking the channels on the television. delving deep into topics that had endless possibilities, spewing off facts that she'd read about online and putting her own thoughts forward in certain aspects that she found interesting and favourable to whoever she was with.

when she came up with the idea of hosting her very own podcast, in the middle of a housewarming party for one of her friends, she was excited to have a platform where she could let her own thoughts be freed yet she was also terrified it wouldn't take off and that she'd make it to a respectful ten episodes before she gave in and decided it wasn't something that the world needed.

when her first episode came out, she had asked james marriott to be her very first guest. one of her best friends, someone she had known for a while, someone who she felt comfortable around and gave her the space to speak freely without making her feel judged. allowing him to promote his new album as well as allowing them to discuss all kinds of musical knowledge from who their favourite bands were and who he would love to open for on a world tour.

and it took off.

earning herself over half a million views in the passing of one day, a lot of youtube subscribers who were offering their own suggestions on the different guests she could have and the more positivity she saw, the more she read, the more excited she was to continue.

she had herself a sweet studio; big beanbags instead of chairs, with a blanket draped over the back of each one and a decorative pillow that was there for added comfort and matched the colour scheme of the whole room, with shelves nailed to the wall full of relatable objects and images that fit her branding - images of her friends, her podcast name in neon lights and a few faux plants that hung low. it was just a simple setup but it felt homely and that was the vibe she had planned from the very beginning.

"good morning, good afternoon or good evening, depending on when you're checking in. i'm yn and welcome back to the one and only podcast on youtube dot com where we just sit and talk shit for an hour," she grins widely at the camera, cosying back into the beanbag beneath her and crossing her legs, hand holding the microphone to her lips, "today, we're joined the king of 90 day fiancé. it's mister arthur television."

"hello, hi."

he gives the camera a short wave and smiles widely, already having cosied himself down in a similar manner to the way yn was sitting in her beanbag, their shoes (both a sucker for comfort and choosing their air force 1's over any other trainer) kicked off aimlessly onto the rug in the middle of the room and left in a heap, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.

"thank you for having me," he looks in her direction, "this is definitely one of my favourite sets i've ever been on. it feels so homey and wholesome."

"i tried to base it on what my bedroom back home used to look like as a teenager," she giggles softly, looking over her shoulder and flicking on the orb lamp that was placed on a shelf above their heads for a bit of additional lighting to fit the ambience of the room, "i was such a tumblr girl growing up, i think it shows."

"i was gon'a say," he laughs and she rolls her eyes in his direction, "it feels very nice. very comforting. especially with the blankets."

"my nana knitted them for me," yn states, "just for this podcast. she's an avid listener, my number one fan, ."

"really?"

"no. i'm kidding," yn laughs softly and he looks across to her, "i don't think she really gets the whole podcast thing, to be honest. she's only just started to understand the whole youtube thing, bless her. she's a sweet soul and i love her but she's so innocent when it comes to all things technological."

"you should use that story more," arthur insists and adjusts himself in the seat as he felt himself sliding down into a slouch, "it adds more story to the setup. it's cute."

"i'll tell her you said that. she'll love it," yn giggles, 'but, anyway. you, arthur frederick, are one of my most requested guests to appear on my podcast."

arthur's eyes widened and he can feel the heat covering his cheeks as he looks across to her, microphone still held tight to his lips, hoping it hid the shy smile that grew on his lips.

"seriously. i had people practically spamming me on twitter to get you on here," she explains and looks at the camera, "you're a loved man, aren't you?"

"i guess i am," he admits shyly, "people are also asking me and isaac to get you on the bach and arthur podcast. close second to george."

"we'll have to make that happen," yn grins widely, "the viewers would love that crossover. chaos crew and little ol' me."

"i think you'd fit in perfectly," he says, "at least i'll have someone on there that appreciates my facts and interesting tidbits of information. it gets lost amongst them. they're not so intelligent when it comes to you and i."

she snorts and shakes her head, dropping her eyes down to her lap before she looks back up; he wasn't lying, truth be told. she was no stranger to being in a conversation with him, at parties and at events both of them were attending, that involved exchanged fact after fact after fact with each other, hours passing by as they discussed nature topics and the newest piece of information to do with outer space and all the theories coming from online.

with the hour closing in, she didn't want the conversations to end. and she knew, in the back of her mind, that she needed him back on her podcast for another episode because he understood her. and she understood him. and their talks flowed effortlessly with no need for extra encouragement from those around them in the room.

he was an interesting man and she wanted more.

both personally and for her podcast.

--

anyone else getting heart eye vibes from the two of them???

yn was in her element for this episode!!

arthur being on this podcast just made my day. we need more of the two of them!!!

the way there was no silence at all this entire episode. conversations flow between these two.

the two of them are the same person, i swear.

without a doubt, arthur is the male version of yn. that's adorable.

its like the universe copied and pasted their personalities into two people of the opposite genders. that's so cute!!

--

"the podcast episode was a hit thanks to you."

yn surprises him and made him jump as she approached him at the bar, his figure turning from where he was stood with his back to her so he could pull her in for a hug, and she grins up at him before her own arms wrapped around his waist. a sex on the beach cocktail held tight in her hand and she was careful not to spill it down the back of his shirt.

"i was wondering where you were," he says and lets go of her to pick up his beer that had been placed on the bartop, "when you texted me to say you were coming to chris' birthday drinks, i knew i had to come and find you when you arrived."

"looks like i beat you to it," she says and she takes a sip of her drink through the straw, "people loved the two of us together on there."

"yeah?"

she nods quickly.

"i'm pretty sure it was the best episode to date. figures wise," she says and he grins widely, looking over her shoulder and seeing a free table in the corner of the room, using his head to indicate for her to look at where he was looking, "i'm gon'a need you to feature again, for sure."

she turns on her heels and wiggles her way through the crowd, the feeling of his hand resting on the base of her back driving her insane as she set her drink down on the table and hopped up on the stool, watching as he did the same.

"i'm not keeping you from chris, am i?"

"no, he's about to hop on the karaoke with isaac," arthur cackles out loud and looks over his shoulder at where his two friends were arguing over the song book, "i'm too sober for that at the moment so I can't think of anything worse right now."

"you're not one of those party poopers, are you?"

"no," he shakes his head, "i just need to be almost blackout drunk in order to belt out my lungs really, really poorly."

"i think i need to get some shots in you then because i really need to see that tonight." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv blurbs #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick headcannons

[alexas-fandom-and-random-blog]

I need to get it out of my chest so here's some Striker theories/speculations fandom has come up with that I heavily dislike and why.

Striker has some royalty blood from one parent or both.

Oh God that would suck so much if it became canon cause it absolutely defeats the purpose of his character so far, that of being a lower class imp hating royals with valid reasons even if his actions are violent and sadistic.

As he is he has such an interesting antagonistic role in the story and offers a bunch of good lines directly opposing and questioning the heroes values, choices and morality.

His mere presence and open bashing of the upper class is just good social commentary! If his hatred stems from a combination of his narcissistic nature and bitterness that being born an imp (even mixed or hybrid) robs him from ascending further into the social ladder or even if he survived a traumatic encounter with a royal as its implied and it's fuelled by anger or a combo of all those things all are good for telling a compelling story! All can be done in very interesting ways!

But making him yet another character tied closer to royalty than just being a random person that got screwed over is honestly an underwhelming concept.

Getting screwed over for no good or justified reason should be common with Hell's racist and classist system as its been presented so far and we should get confirmation of that instead of having Striker added to the trend of each of the main characters having special connections with higher ups. It's not only redundant at this point but would make his motivation and social commentary that much weaker.

I swear if it just becomes another daddy or mommy issue imma rage quit so fast!

Striker is half shark demon

His sound design is explicitly constantly emulating the noises a rattlesnake makes. Since he's most likely a hybrid and he says to Blitzo how they are "superior to most of our kind" he's definitely part imp. So we got two halves and we got snake demon and imp, so it's basically covered? lol I don't know how this theory became so popular😅

He doesn't even look close to the design of the other sharks

he only looks like Chaz a little bit.

And lots of characters share similar characteristics like that snout.

This one had some merit with the ringed eyes and imma be real I haven't noticed those elsewhere but like even if he had a grandpa shark what purpose would that serve?

Bah I just don't like it. Let the man be a slimy snake! Its more unique and it suits him better!

Striker is asexual cause he got grossed out by sex jokes

No...just no..

To be clear you could totally read him as asexual! But the reason being the damn sex jokes is giving me whiplash. Striker got flustered and frustrated at best cause the timing of each sex joke was inappropriate as all hell and cause everyone did it as he tried to be intimidating and threaten/kill them. If anything they were bruises to his ego not any indication to his libido.

But like... In all seriousness asexual confirmation deserves more than a reaction to sex jokes.

Hellaverse does it better with Alastor. In his case it does tie in with his sexuality.

Same goes with all the theories that he's homophobic too.

He did the sexy villain thing trying to seduce Blitzo like so explicitly and smiled when Blitzo called it hot then! What are you talking about?

Different situation, more receptive to sexual undertones and instigating them too. That's what I'm trying to say!

And again. Asexual reading can apply. But it can't be just the sex jokes alright?!😭

(yeah yeah it's a joke on itself. still valid I get it.)

Striker is related to Crimson and Moxxie.

Oh this one is the worst one and absolutely gives me a heart attack and thank goodness for the crew's soft confirmation that they aren't via strixxie fanart cause no joke I'd cry since its my favourite ship!

It's just similar horns!!! Striker was designed as a mix between Moxxie and Blitzo and that's the only reason why!

Striker also had sexual tension with Blitzo on screen are you gonna tell me they are related too cause he was designed with half of him in mind?

I hate this theory so much.

Granted purely for shipping reasons but holy shit it got popular and I hated that!

I've had enough with turning every ship into potential incest just cause and harassing fans over it!

Got such "Fizz and Blitzo are siblings" deja vu😬

Ahem...

Anyways yeah that's all.

To end it more positively I love the snake man! Didn't spot him on the trailer but still hope we see him in the upcoming episodes🥺

Preferably doing shit like this and traumatizing everyone lmao! (with no godawful statue jokes in sight thank you very much)

#rant #Striker #alexia posts #helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss critical #fandom critical #this is mostly unserious #😂

[styrofauxm]

On aroace flags...

I want to be very clear, I am not criticizing anyone specific, but rather the current ways of combining the asexual and aromantic flags into a cohesive flag.

But I've had this floating around my head for a while, and I saw a post similar to it today, so I thought I'd throw in my two cents.

Cut because it got long.

In the ace flag, black means asexuality, gray means gray/demi sexual, white is for allosexual allies of asexual people, and purple means community. (I lost the link to the AVEN post, but someone dedicated can find it. Otherwise you can just look up the meanings on the internet to verify).

In the aro flag, the green and light green stripes are for the aromantic spectrum, white is for non-romantic attraction, and black and grey are for the sexuality spectrum. (Post by the creator saying this here: https://www.tumblr.com/cameronwhimsy/102698477928/whoops-yeah-i-just-realised-i-never-actually-made?source=share).

So black, grey, and white all mean different things for each flag, yet in most combination flags, they only appear once. Do they mean what they mean on the aromantic flag or what they mean on the asexual flag?

The light green and green don't have any arbitrary separations for people who do and don't feel romantic attraction, and the grey and black of the aro flag don't have that for sexual attraction either, while the asexual flag does. Cutting out one of the green stripes or moving the black and grey away from each other don't make sense in the context of the aromantic flag.

I've also seen some that add an extra purple stripe. It doesn't mean anything, it's just aesthetic.

Whether or not you like the sunset aroace flag, it is a good example to look at when trying to create a flag to represent aroace people. It keeps the association with asexuality and aromanticism, without using the original colors in ways that don't quite fit. (Color meaning breakdown by the creator here: https://aroaesflags.tumblr.com/post/181034758671/revised-aroace-flag-after-some-conversation-among).

The whole point of having pride flags is to have a meaningful symbol to represent our communities. For aroace people, mashing two together keeps the association with asexuality and aromanticism, but loses the deeper meaning behind each flag.

Honestly, as an aroace person, I think the only way to really design an aroace flag is to depart from the imagery of either flag. That ensures the meanings are solid, and it ensures no one in accidentally excluded (which is, to my understanding, why the sunset flag was created originally - to have a community symbol that included the whole community inherently). But I understand not everyone shares the sentiment.

So, from one aroace person to another, if you are going to design an aroace flag that's based on the ace and aro flags, please keep in mind what those colors mean in the context of each flag, and don't put them in just to have them. And be sure that your design properly includes everyone you are trying to represent.

#neon's void #asexual #aromantic #aroace #aspec #I just dislike that the community symbol supposedly for aroace people who split their attraction doesn't really take into consideration #the symbology of either community #I am a sunset flag defender (just bc it was made w non-sam aroaces in mind doesn't mean it excludes sam aroaces #it even says that it's meant for all aroaces in the original post) #i get that not everyone's comfy with that and that's their right #but more thought needs to go into these designs #posting this so that I stop editing it ......... NOW

[lavender-bundle-blithe]

yknow what. Human Abilities AU where people's abilities are just... their own person. similar to a modern au but the abilities are also there but as actual people ^^ starting with sskk and skk! (am i making it into yin-yang w|w and double black m|m? maybe. i dont know myself. i think.)

byakko would be the strict but motherly protective tiger that i headcanon her to be. very protective of atsushi since he still goes through hell in an orphanage, and really, she has no filter but is nice enough to place one on for... five minutes. voice claim... ethereal but monotone. my girl's blunt. ex: tigress from kung fu panda rashomon would likely act similar to aku in a sense, but... more teasing. she likes to rile byakko up, but those happen on, like, a good day. which is one out of... two-three weeks. but similar to byakko, she's protective of the siblings very much, and can and will spoil those two with sweets since the whole slums situation. now her voice claim would likely have an elegant voice compared to byakko, yet both have the same bite. ex: yae miko from genshin impact but toned down. --- how these two interact... hm. probably how atsushi and aku were from day one in canon, they hated each other. but it could go two ways: where they catch fists or egged on by rashomon's teasing... "or is she threatening?" <- byakko. but after some time, from hating each others guts when on site and also not, it more or less evolves to them... liking each other's company. byakko helps rashomon regarding seeing things in other perspectives, however blunt they are. and rashomon helps byakko with the social cues. neither of them are the talkers, but when its just them two, no words would be spoken and yet they just understand what they need.

now for no longer human, whom i shall call "null". null is... silent. the silent eerie character that rarely talks but is just... there. not much cues in his blank and expressionless face, and his posture is solemn and tight. he acts much similar to 15!dazai but more melancholic. he took the brunt of whatever happened in his and dazai's childhood, he's a lot more mature than that. his voice claim would be a deep voice, could be heard as monotone or angry to strangers, but with those who's familiar with him, it's just... calming. ex: the horse from the boy, the mole, the fox, and the horse. for the tainted sorrow, or more or less arahabaki... he's basically a chuuya but more destructive, and he doesn't want to slow down. but when it comes to null, its either that he has to be in pace with the other or he can and will drag them. they don't care. but of course, others wonder why he cares so much for null if its said that he doesnt care at all. now some might say that no one could manage to understand him, others would say that he might speak riddles. a sort of ethereal tone, and it's oddly pitched. possible ex: sphinx from dragons dogma 2. --- this one's different, how they interact. basically: arahabaki would try and egg null on, get them riled up, but for the sake of proving the man wrong in his own point. it's unfortunately that both null and dazai have that sense of not being human. and while chuuya has his own way in showing dazai he has a life worth living, arahabaki's situation is a more difficult one. because null's more observant and quiet, the man likely has several scenarios going through his head on what's to happen, and has definitely figured out what arahabaki's planning on doing and avoided it with some certain word of phrase. so, arahabaki turns those words against null. two can play that game. but while arahabaki helps null with that, null helps with arahabaki's destructive and explosive tendencies, managing to defuse a situation in mere seconds and get them out of trouble. they're looking out for each other, and they have their backs.

#lavender talks #bungou stray dogs #bsd #Human Abilities AU #bsd byakko #bsd atsushi #bsd rashomon #bsd akutagawa #bsd no longer human #bsd dazai #bsd arahabaki #bsd chuuya #bsd sskk #bsd skk

[haunted-xander]

You ever think about how Ryne probably got a more honest yet closed-off Thancred while Minfilia got a more disingenuine yet open Thancred?

Like, the Thancred Minfilia knew and grew up with was the one we saw in arr, the flirty, teasing and sassy but friendly man who was clearly not very honest seeing as no one- not even Minfilia- noticed how worn out he was from his constant work. Even just by hw he's noticably more prickly and. not quite rude but. more outwardly cynical? He's always been kinda cynical, but in arr his teasing and banter hides it well, which never disappears but is more. natural? genuine? now. Krile directly points out that he's much more brusque than she expected of him based on how Minfilia described him.

And sure, you could attribute that behaviour to his grief and stress (which is certainly a part of it) but considering he acts much the same in ew, when he's finally moved on and come to terms with everything (and is also post-shb character development), I think it's safe to say that this is the most honest we've seen Thancred be.

But this is all Ryne has known him to be. She's never seen Thancred be flirtatious or as social and friendly as he is in arr, she's only seen him be brusque and cynical but still teasing and kind. But he's also far more closed off from her (and others) bc of That Whole Deal going on. Urianger has told her more about Thancred's true feelings than Thancred himself has. and even that's not a lot, for Urianger is not only not a mind reader and doesn't know everything that goes on on Thancred's head, but also is reluctant to share more than is necessary since it's not his place to divulge these things (and also he himself is not free from the folly of emotional self-isolation).

With Minfilia though, he's open enough that she's never doubted that he cared for and loved her even when he couldn't spend much time with her, and she felt comfortable enough to admonish him when he did his usual self-destructive behaviour (you know, becoming an alchoholic at 17 and All That Entails)

Just. food for thought

#theres a lot of these parallels between ryne & minfilia in regards to their relationship with thancred #like. the way things are so similar yet so *different* from each other #same same but opposite ya know #like how thancred blames himself for warburtons death and by extention minfilia being orphaned even tho it was in no way his fault #vs how he knowingly took ryne away from ran'jit bc he knew that whatever other life shed live would be better than what she had #when minfilia first experienced the echo thancred knew wat it was but didnt tell her (for circle of knowing related reasons) #whereas he told ryne everything he could in regards to her powers and circumstances #he gifted minfilia her dagger for self-defense but never taught her how to fight #but ryne was not only gifted daggers by him but also taught how to properly fight and fend for herself with them #and he trusted minfilia in the main care of f'lhaminn while he took a more secondary support role #but he assigned himself the primary caretaker for ryne while the others (read: urianger) became secondary ones #(granted due to rynes situation he kinda had no other choice at the time) #(but im sure he wouldve taken the same role even if he could theoretically have safely handed her over to someone else) #also just to be clear thancred IS genuinely social and friendly even hw & up #just not as extroverted #he spends a lot of time either by himself or with fellow scions/other close companions #rather than with whatever lady hes trynna impress next #anyway. yet another day of being Completelt Normal about this complicated family situation #thancred waters #ryne waters #minfilia warde #final fantasy #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #ffxiv #xander rambles #xander being insane about ryne

[8rujaa]

okay, i might let people in

#i’ve been nonstop talking to this person for a few days now #like nonstop we’ll have multiple convos going at once and having to use voice messages to catch up to everything lol #our conversations have yet to die since the first one we’ve had #it feels very very very refreshing to find someone who can keep up #and we have so many things in common but like i’ve always found myself to be a lil weird and have out of the ordinary interests #not trying to say that ‘i’m not like other girls’ LMFAO but it’s hard to find ppl with this many things in common #like one or two things i get but we’ve been able to connect on so many things #even like chronic pain which like is nice to find someone who understands #so now i’m like actually excited for the first time about meeting someone #i’m very very excited and they’re so so so sweet #i feel like i can always tell who’s been in therapy because we tend to carry conversations in a similar way … does that make sense??? 🤣 #like u know how there’s ‘gentle parenting’ #i feel like there’s a specific way people who have been in therapy speak to others #they’re always so mindful of boundaries and also reciprocal #in conversations #we also have the same taste in music which is wild cuz i listen to every genre in existence and music from many different languages/culture #our spotify blend goes crazy 🤣🤣 #we’ve only been talking for a week so i’m trying not to get my hopes up but im just excited 😆😆😆 #lmao but like even if we just end up becoming friends i’m still happy to meet someone who’s so similar :D #i’ve been wanting friends who also struggle with the same things so we can do selfcare things together or maybe just chill on high pain day #and we will know how to be there for each other a little better than ppl who don’t get it.. i crave that real bad 🥲 #i realize i sound delulu as fuck cuz i haven’t even met them in person but i can already tell we’re going to get along 😌😌😌😌 #i’m aware of how delulu i sound and maybe i’m getting my hopes up but it truly does feel like i was waiting for someone like this 🥹

[blueish-bird]

sorry if I don’t remember your name or conversations/experiences or basic things about myself, every few weeks my brain gets factory reset and I have to relearn how to be alive

#lighthearted but also serious bc what is going on here buddy #been feeling weird as hell these past few months #like I can remember some stuff… but it doesn’t feel normal to forget the names of anyone I haven’t seen/heard the name of in a few days #or forget about basic interests and personality traits and experiences and feel like a blank slate every day #idk like ultimately life goes on and I’m happy to live in the moment but it would be nice to understand why my brain is doing this #just thinking #meposting #I think my brain just. does this sometimes when I’m stressed. which is annoying #I recall (lmao) feeling similar during earlier parts of life so this isn’t *new* it’s just unexpected and much more disruptive as an adult #I’m feeling better about it than I was. after like. acknowledging it. bc my mind has not always felt like a sieve it isn’t always this bad. #whatever #I’ll tag as dissociation just in case it’s related/reminiscent and ppl don’t want to see that #dissociation #me and her go way back… haven’t seen each other in years though #she wasnt all bad! coping mechanisms can provide relief and a sense of safety #and as far as coping mechanisms go it’s not the most unhealthy. though it ranks high in ‘socially stunting’ #I kind of miss the distance sometimes to be honest everything’s just So Much all the time #I’m so solid now #so stuck in the ruts of capitalism #fuck capitalism #I wish my imagination didn’t feel so dulled #sorry I love talking #and I don’t miss dissociation when I feel mentally present because I feel so Here with the people and things I love but rn? #it’s like a lose-lose bc I am not Here nor am I untethered. I’m heavy yet hold nothing #I enjoy being dramatic/poetic about it — I feel pretty fine. I just hope this isn’t a permanent and/or long-term state of existence. #like it makes me awful at my job I went from remembering a solid amount of the student body’s names (built up over a few years) to. like 5. #overnight it felt like. like Stressful Thing happened and I went to work and I couldn’t remember anyone’s names. #can’t believe I have to start from fucking scratch AGAIN I’d be better off quitting and working at a different school #bc at least then my lack of knowledge/remembering is justified rather than strange and seemingly rude #I’m getting better now but at the beginning of this it was blue screen in my brain all the time

[unproduciblesmackdown]

thinking about how of course billions is about people trapped in eternal battle world, and trapped because they won't ever exit, and don't want to because that's the only way they can define their idea of themself or like move through life, to the degree they have to just create or find another battle if one ends or they don't have enough going on at once or they're unhappy about anything & can only respond to that the only way they'll respond to anything: finding someone to consider a target to Defeat & being like nice, i'm so competent & active as a person, so with any other issues in my life, i'm sure it's not my fault at least

and it's been clear that to be someone at the Center of the show means needing to be inflexible enough to never leave that life, which also probably means never engaging in genuine self-reflection besides like, fuming in distress for 5 sec & then immediately searching for blame for someone else, or calling up your designated moral supporter who'll tell you you're upset b/c you're very complex & sympathetic & maybe if you do [xyz] you'll be able to Keep Winning, so like, don't worry, we'll never get too off track here. you have someone like connerty who cares so much about playing by the rules ft. ethics, but he was also someone completely inflexible who would give a shit like "ha ha you broke the law" and be Defeated b/c like yeah damn you do got him in that situation. he may then have gained the flexibility to throw a punch when he's already imprisoned but he's still just gotta retire & pursue some completely different goals

this in contrast with like, what a coincidence (surely not) that the more flexible characters are the ones who also do introspect & reflect & genuinely think about & question themselves ever, & how even beyond that, being in this world of people who overwhelmingly are thee opposite & aiming for a static sense of self & thus strategy for navigating life & all interactions & situations, the more reflective parties also tend to accept both Blame & the fruitlessness of pushing for more/different/better from the people & relationships & situations they're amongst. those willing to take on responsibility at all surrounded by people casting all of it off, always, w/the former already primed to take blame & the latter primed to be looking to find the blame in anyone else, a powerful mismatch....which allows the flexible parties to also put up with shit for longer lol like if they got fed up that quickly or recognized the dead-end here they'd just leave the show lol. like wow can't believe taylor spent their whole life already stuck having to deal with someone who's so very much like these bullshit central men & those trying to emulate them, & perhaps also then have a lifetime of experience extending endless patience & sympathy with little to no expectations for more from people who put up with such a bullshit man & his effects on everything around him, like, what do you mean taylor's mom hasn't seen them b/c douglas didn't want to see them b/c he wasn't yet motivated enough to have to exercise begrudging shows of basic respect. whilest sure seems like taylor felt more concern & basically stated their responsibility re: trying to make their relationship with their dad work / basically take on the task of making his life work for him according to his sense of himself (genius! who deserves the recognition thusly!) and doesn't seem to take on this role re: their mom, who nevertheless is just presumed to move closer to them along w/douglas. and here's taylor never truly putting their foot down re: wendy, no matter what, able to have no real positive expectations in how wendy treats them or thinks of them, but also always able to extend sympathy / decent treatment themself

thinking of like team ben out here as the Nicer axe cap or mpc people who also happen to be people absorbing the L's, blaming themselves for being at the bottom of the hierarchy & being subjected to the always negative treatment doled out to them accordingly, and, winstonesquely, still generally like extending genuine gestures of amicability, efforts of constructive actual communication, etc, & this being shut down & likely punished by all the people around them who won't handle that kind of thing. that Of Course nobody's actually supported around here, like, at best they'll get some kind of "well you're actually talented & valuable :)...." (so why aren't they already treated in a way such that they're aware of this?) "....so just have more confidence already god!" wherein (a) again that just means it's Their Fault that they're having a miserable time at the hands of others & (b) their having "confidence" doesn't really mean like, an emotional buffer between their sense of self-esteem & the message of inferiority in how they're treated, it has to mean externally acting different in some ways, more like A Winner, more like everyone else. the limits of ben trying to sometimes be a buffer for tuk as that kind of friend/mentor role, where either it simply fails or ben's Help is more unilateral "correction." that generally only any increase in aggressive hostility gets them anywhere, and really not that far.

the way dollar bill could always act however he wanted & they could always clean up his messes / save him from himself / just flatout blame other people for what dollar bill did to them or someone else; success in being a mini axe in that way for sure. dollar bill going off the rails over his literal dollar bill & that's not a problem, he's validated b/c he's upset, & b/c rudy knew he'd be upset it's really all rudy's fault....who just so happens to be more of a loser, what with his glasses & possible masturbation ever and all. whilest even when dollar bill is like every season being shit at his job & life, well, just find a loser to trounce while everyone ignores this, cheers you on, takes on responsibility for fixing things for you, blames the person targeted probably. dollar bill couldn't even do in office transphobic hate crime physical attacks, or that but while yelling the r word at the autistic guy he's already harrassing & threatening, without it being really basically the target's fault, & hey, as long as no investors are watching. and we're still dragging dollar bill back to the office b/c uhhh yeah!!

& then of course there's winston, who, like a loser, says things in real efforts for real communication with others, that they winningly can only bring themselves to respond to as "he's not allowed to talk, that's out of line, i have to punish/deny this to reassert our respective status" except for, sometimes, taylor actually communicating in turn, or even simply receiving the information. winston in a duo with the very winning & worthy rian, being something of a quasirival for 5 seconds but even during then, and since, trying to be amicable to establish an actually positive dynamic, trying for actual communication, engaging flexibly & actively based on her feedback & her terms & etc to try to find some more success; versus rian completely inflexible, unwilling to respond to efforts to communicate, unwilling to have an actual relationship with any flexibility & genuineness in turn, or see winston as a person of course, and engage with real emotions. which is hardly an exclusive response of hers, like, everyone else is just the same, she's just also the one interacting with him more often and personally bullying him & standing next to him & immediately responding with clear contempt when he tries things like earnest expressions of "hey rian could you not do what you just did b/c it makes me feel like shit, probably b/c that's what you're trying to do" and "hey that was cool what you just did b/c it makes me feel like—" b/c like, what a loser. real winners cannot handle engaging with another person as a person. when you can just make up & stick to a narrative about "oh but i don't hate winston, who i feel is inherently beneath me. i wouldn't wanna feel bad about killing him, not when i could feel fine about administering more of a death by a thousand cuts with some other people helping out & hey maybe it was their cut that did it after all....but also if you're like 'pwease' then eh sure" or that winston's got a lesser inner existence anyways, some classic dehumanization, no complexity there, & hurting him isn't real, & it'd never be you in his position anyways! especially the more you're buying into "yeah i'm more of a person / more deserving / more real & sympathetic & correct than him :)" & being cheered on as you act that out. pretty cringe of winston to be earnest, flexible, openly trying & wanting & needing things, sounds bad & silly. unlike the winners around him who really cannot handle him or any of these things about him. of course near equivalent in loserness, tuk, is the person with the realest most amicable relationship with him. both of them too incompetent to realize their mutual failings in this, ha ha, real winners are repulsed & fleeing & can't handle a basic exchange with either of them. and the imbalance re: how little others are willing to give them in interest, consideration, time, words, etc, while they're always trying Too Much re: the disinterested others, totally proves their unworthiness

winston and tuk always having to stay at the bottom of the hierarchy, winston only able to be shitted on even as he extricates himself, ending up surrounded by people who will only act "correctly" according to their superior roles & this mf wags only processing anything as "did that reinforce my being a correct/winning person???" & only responding by trying to reassert to others how much of a winner they are, which requires establishing a loser, and crushing them. winston having recognized / gotten fed up with a bullshit scenario & had realistic expectations of those around them & spent those years being treated like shit yet never crushing an enemy to restore his ego & also spent those years trying to communicate and work with others and share actual info and make actual connections & now independently choosing to make a big shift in his life so that things can be different? is definitely the contemptible loser here while everyone else looks very good faffing around for an episode getting some temporary ego boosts & being very "correct" in every response to winston, even pointing out that rian even noticing something genuine & positive from winston in the absence of it anywhere is first & foremost incorrect, which rian will Also immediately drop in the face of that "well yeah it's more correct to prioritize Anything else. like that he's pathetic & mpc 5ever" like wuh oh rian being doomed from 5x08 "time to embrace acting more correct now" & being truly inflexible from that point on, never had a moment of conflict not resolved by [ignoring that] &/or again just getting someone more correct to declare how it'll be answered. taylor at their most flexible and Taylorest and most juxtaposed with central men & static ossified "winners" when they are also at their best in engaging with winston. taylor Like winston & vice versa in so many substantial & interesting ways, despite their relating to / sympathizing with / devoting much more effort & interest to people more like the central men. that here we are, when taylor might have to give up on Being A Winner, someone who'll walk away with status & resources & a seamless transition into some established business foundation, to really get the wins that matter, against pince, &/or to clock out of a sunk cost factory, &/or to not have strangled every part of themself that can be in conflict with this general situation into eternal dormancy. don't You dare blame latency lol, the taylor who gets to exist outside the conditional "well i guess you're a winner who's very useful to me, like dumping work on you & blaming you if it goes awry. and you can act like a Real winner in the ways that really matter (crushing people)"....is also a taylor who can be rejected & shut down & shut out & have their value denied & be treated shittily despite even knowing they'd be / are good at this shit, superlatively even, & could never feel okay just being regarded as a tool stashed away at someone's disposal. & Has been treated shittly & is liable to accept blame, unilateral responsibility for other's selves & feelings & actions & lives, & marinate in self-loathing. while people who refuse any introspection, questioning, responsibility, awareness, etc, & refuse to handle the least of genuine interactions/relationships with others as real people, are glad to scoff at them & dismiss them & imply or assert their superiority, like, wow have You got a lot to learn, or maybe you can't b/c you're inherently inferior. all just like re: winston!

tl;dr shoutout to the flexible characters who like can & do reflect & change things up actually, just so happening to always be Losing for this in the [only way to win is not to play] arena of fake winners seeing if they can consider themselves superior to everyone else & only even possibly correct always & forever, in the pyramid scheme of social hierarchy & also capitalism

#real winners quit! it's winston #society if rian Wasn't quickly boxed in & given the ''prominence'' of being Used for other characters #and where we could more truly have this like triumvirate of seeing yourself in both the other two parties in tmc lol #almost a similar fate re: lauren showing up Worthily Yet Zanily! then Most offbeatness falls away / dating is in the bg #& she's mostly Around & doing general [just competent things] But she was also flexible enough to do things Wrong actually / be doomed lol #which we Knew b/c of the relationship that billions would only eventually crush as the Cost of xyz.... #rian's offbeatness mostly gone too; ''what am i gonna do next!'' Conveniently/contradictorily; going Bazinga; snark instead of aggression #general [just competent things] that'll last until ppl quit last minute; if they do. she started out secretly pretty inflexible already #& is really locked in by now; very similar to wendy who also never really considered ditching her life of ''i love to feel like i'm toying #w/ppl's lives & enabling some mf with more power'' & really isn't that different from prince; who tf else isn't also totally inflexible #team ben's endurance come from what insulation / teamwork they can find w/each other & just staying out of the way really #& also just the writing like ''of course they can & will stick around for years despite how they're treated. bit of Loser Feelings as #Lesser Feelings after all b/c haha i mean come on they may be nice but do they seem Epic to you?'' #which is just as true / even more so re: winston. until he; in another [the Actual winner's move]; finally leaves #and gets like the most bass boosted [WHAT A FUCKING LOSER] treatment on his way out b/c what else could or would anyone do #winston billions #anyways he & the Loser Nerds like him have so much more maturity & flexibility & allowed capacity for actual growth lol. cringe comp!! #and this may be at all on purpose Of Course. show's aware central ppl are peak shit & intractible. show also does think winston's a loser #&/or is certainly trying to have their cake and eat it too with him and like tuk as well & even to a degree w/e goes on w/spyros etc etc #and Illustrating a lot of the ''deserved'' aspect through static inflexible Assumed Universal Facts abt what seems wrong & unworthy #like fucking yourself literally! objectively Bad. having glasses. knowing the diff b/w a vagina & vulva. not being ''''attractive'''' #[jumpscare of Blaring Tangent dialogue abt that all overlaid on itself into 1 second of 9000 decibels] #taylor is also Flexible re: philip who is Flexible re: them in turn. definitely Something and Promising as has been established lol #visit taylip hq nothingunrealistic.tumblr.com for so much more. and this blog for [thinking abt winston] hq in turn. covering ground

[astrxealis]

venat makes me the saddest

#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚ #i love her soooo much and i love how it is almost purely familial/platonic #i think she deserves all the best for real. she deserves to be happy and free #flow always makes me so sad :(( #tbh i said this b4 but enw already hits me a lot as is rn! and esp bcs i understand how. despair is like. yeah #but i have yet to lose a loved one and i'm terrified. absolutely terrified of that (<- kid who cried at the thought of a loved one leaving #even before i was 10 y/o) so i'd love to replay enw then bcs... it'll make it hurt more in a way that Heals. if that makes sense #ffxiv funny lil game and also really good game but also it is... not for the light of heart as well? #enw is so heavy i think? and the dark undertones throughout the whole game are... yeah. yeah. #but i truthfully think with all my my being that it is an experience everyone should try out. once. ffxiv means so much to me. #i think it is beautiful though how we all have that different thing we think everyone should get into! #it speaks of how unique each and every one of us is. and i love who i am in all of the beings in the world #because there is only ever me; and i forgot what i was going to say and also strayed off topic! #anyways i love final fantasy xiv so much and i think there's something really just there about people who have shared the same experiences #which is why it is really important to be with those similar to you! and for me that is especially final fantasy and drakenier #but that doesn't mean all the others around you are less. they are just as much; just in a different manner #<- me maturing from my bitter thoughts a few months ago! i'm still improving though <3 #yeah this all was nice to write even if this was so off topic in the end #though it still is related tbh mhm? <3 #i am not perfect and i never will be; chasing after something i will never achieve will only lead to further downfall #but it is important to do what we can. be there for ourself. be there for others. love and love and love. #these are all things i've learned through many aspects of life and ffxiv and my growing as a teen really affirmed it for me

[slu7formen]

disarmed by desire. | luke castellan x f.r

₊˚⊹♡ luke can’t seem to get out of his head a certain someone, things become even harder when that certain someone, is an aphrodite’s daughter.

warnings: seduction, sexual tension, luke is obsessed over reader, reader’s an aphrodite’s daughter, reader has long hair (not really a warning but whatever).

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

pt2 here

Luke Castellan was obsessed with you.

No, not obsessed. He worshipped you.

He didn’t even know when it started. It was not one thing or situation that started it all, but little small things he witnessed that eventually lead to his confusing and strong feelings he wanted to desperately hide.

Being an Aphrodite’s daughter was no joke, nor was it falling for one of them. All of your brothers and sisters shared an unbeatable beauty. Each one of you is so different, but yet so similar. But the more you grew since your arrival to the camp when you were fifteen, the more you stood out to Luke’s eyes. The Aphrodite cabin girls were known for their charm, but you seemed different, less concerned with vanity and more with genuine connection.

The first flicker appeared during Capture the Flag. Luke wasn't actively participating, a rare occurrence for the camp's best swordsman. Instead, he leaned against a tree, nursing a minor but piercing shoulder wound himself, when she appeared. She wasn’t running across the battlefield like a fiery warrior, but holding a kid’s hand as he was a whimpering mess walking behind her, he sat down on a rock and she instantly attended his bloody knee.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry” her voice had said, and the little kid almost immediately stopped sobbing. “Other kids can be mean sometimes. What’s your name?”

Luke watched, spellbound, as your nimble fingers, surprisingly calloused for a daughter of Aphrodite, expertly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Sunlight kissed your hair, turning the braids into strands of melted gold. Laughter danced in your voice, calming the kid down and blending with the clash of swords.

It wasn't just your beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the tenderness in your touch, the quiet confidence radiating from you, a stark contrast to the usual flirtatiousness Luke associated with your cabin. He quickly realized you were also one of the few Aphrodite’s daughter who had the ability of influencing others with your voice; charmspeaking.

Even when your voice didn’t resonate for him, but for the little kid you were attending, he felt undeniably attracted to your sweet melody, maybe that’s why he stared so long at you too.

Then, your eyes met his. A smile bloomed on your lips. "Need some patching up yourself, brave knight?"

His breath hitched as your eyes pierced his, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered, "No, I'm good." But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't just injured physically; a new wound had opened in his chest, one caused by a flirty smile and a concern genuine enough to pierce through his thick built-up walls.

Luke's attraction to you wasn't solely physical, but he'd be lying if he didn't find himself momentarily stunned by the way you carried yourself.

He couldn't help but steal glances when you wore shorter skirts or crop tops that hinted at the toned physique earned through years of training, or when the older campers organized a secret night out at the lake in which you made sure to wear the best bikini you could find. He'd catch himself mesmerized by the way sunlight would dance on the curves of your body, sending a flicker of heat through him and his own veins. There was an undeniable beauty in your perfectly applied makeup, but it only served to highlight the mischief sparkling in your eyes and the warmth etched on your smile.

It wasn't just the jealousy your beauty ignited in other girls, or the admiration you garnered from younger campers. It was the way you moved, how confidence flowed through you like liquid gold, making even the simplest actions seem captivating. One afternoon, he saw you braiding wildflowers into your hair, your fingers moving with practiced ease, and he found himself staring with parted lips, hypnotized by the delicate beauty you created.

He started finding himself drawn to her laughter, its rich melody echoing through the camp. He'd catch glimpses of her practicing archery, her form uncannily elegant even as she sent arrow after arrow into the bullseye.

She was perfect.

His mind would try to rationalize, tell him it was the warrior in you that drew him in, the way you handled a sword with both grace and ferocity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was the way your beauty existed in perfect harmony with your strength, a potent combination that left him both breathless and curious.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even to himself, but the truth was, Luke found himself daydreaming about brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin against his fingertips as he leaned it for a kiss of your sugar lips. Something as simple as that had him zoning out of every conversation and forgetting about activities in the camp. He imagined the playful glint in your eyes when you caught him staring, the teasing lilt in your voice as you challenged him to a duel.

Until, well… a true duel emerged. Summer was just starting after all, and practice needed to be done.

Steel sang beneath the afternoon sun as their practice began. The sky was painted with orange and bright yellow colors, as your darkened figures danced around the field. Luke, known throughout camp as the prodigy at sword fighting, moved with a controlled ferocity, his blade a blur of deadly grace. But his opponent today wasn't your average camper. You wielded your sword with the effortless elegance of a former ballerina, impressive to be someone who’s main skill is not fighting, he had to admit. Each parry was a pirouette, each attack a leap defying gravity.

Sparks flew as your blades clashed, but where Luke relied on brute force, you danced around him, using your agility and unexpected angles to deflect his blows. He felt a frustrated flush creep up his neck and loudly beat inside his chest, every missed strike fueling the unspoken tension swirling between you.

Sweat already glistened on your sun-kissed skin, adding a raw allure to your perfectly applied makeup. It dripped down your collarbone and hid underneath your shirt.

Luke fought with intensity, fuelled not just by the thrill of the duel, but by the desire to impress the captivating enigma before him. You, in turn, met his ferocity with playful taunts and flirtatious dodges, your laughter tinkling in his ears.

Some campers have forgotten about their own practices, drawn to the captivating spectacle between you two. Whispers swirled about Luke's unmatched skill, your surprising prowess, and the undeniable spark crackling between you.

“Look at that” Grover shook Annabeth’s arm, eyes pierced in two shadows swiftly moving around the grass, clashing their blades with resonating grunts and heavy breaths.

“Who’s that?” Percy suddenly asked, eyes wide and parted lips hypnotized by the slender figure whose hair flew around like it had its own life.

“yn, an Aphrodite’s daughter” his friend explained. “Not bad at swords at all, though. But she’s got Luke on his nerves”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, I can tell”

But Annabeth laughed. “Not that kind of nerves. Let’s just say she’s enjoying the attention Luke gives her”

The fight went on, each passing moment stretching the boundaries of skill and endurance. Your movements were a whirlwind of elegance and precision, forcing Luke to constantly adapt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Tired, hero?" you purred, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you walked around him and twirled your sword, the sunlight reflecting off its polished surface. "Perhaps a touch of Aphrodite's charm is what you need?"

Luke gritted his teeth, channeling his growing attraction into focused strikes. But despite the heat of the battle, your image kept blurring his vision - your smile, the way your hair fell around your face, how your cheeks flushed red and your glossy lips parted as you blocked his movement against you one more time. He felt his defenses crumbling, his usual stoicism replaced by a raw need to prove himself, not just as a swordsman, but as a man worthy of your attention.

“Careful, princess. Playing with fire might just burn you” he countered as he parried a particularly fierce blow, the impact sending a tremor up his arm. His voice was low enough for only you to hear.

"Oh, Luke" you laughed. “Thanks for worrying so much about me but, I know how to handle a little heat" You lunged, your blade aimed for his shoulder. He barely deflected it, the tip grazing his bicep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.

In a swift, mesmerizing blur, your blade danced around his, finding an opening. The clang of steel resonated as your sword disarmed him, sending his clattering to the ground. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged rasp of his breath.

He lets his knees fall to the ground, thinking you would have enough mercy for him to give him a break. But he found himself with the tip of your blade resting gently under his chin. You tapped it twice.

“Up, Castellan” you demanded. He looked up at you.

Your eyes, sparkling with both victory and amusement, held him captive. Sweat and dust smudged your face, adding a primal beauty to your already breathtaking features.

A slow smile tugged at his lips, not of defeat, but of something deeper. He lifted up his hands. "Seems I underestimated the true power of Aphrodite's daughters" he rasped, his voice husky with exertion and something else – an undeniable desire.

“Hell yes you did!” one of your sisters replied, earning a few laughs from the rest of the campers.

The small crowd erupted in cheers once the battle was determined as won by you. Luke eventually got up, sword still under his chin. He was much taller than you, to which you had to lift your own head up to fully see his face.

The roar of the crowd faded into a distant hum as Luke only focused on the heavy pounding on his chest, sword dangerously still close. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past the flush blooming on his cheeks.

"And it seems that our little hero falls not just to skill, but also to some… irresistible charm" you purred, amusement tugging at your lips.

Luke grinned, a touch cocky, a touch breathless. "Perhaps," he conceded, voice husky with exertion. "But I wouldn't call it defeat” he cooed as you slowly put your sword down, placing it next to you. His gaze dropped, tracing a slow path down the curve of your sweat-kissed neck, lingering on the way your shirt clung to your form. Your exposed legs shined underneath the weak sun. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the playful banter now infused with something hotter, more primal.

"Besides," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "victors deserve their spoils, don't they?"

His words hung heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, a meaning only the two of you seemed to understand now. You felt a blush creep up your neck, surprised by the sudden shift in his usual way of being towards you. You knew he knew you flirted, that you did it with ease. But this was different. This was Luke Castellan, the stoic, the untouchable, and suddenly, he was playing your game.

"And what kind of spoils are you thinking of, big boy?" you countered, your voice barely a whisper.

Luke looked around, campers long gone, already going back to their own activities as soon as your tense situation ended.

He stepped in closer, the space between you shrinking to a charged silence. "Maybe,-" he rasped head down and still heavy breathing, "a dance with the warrior who disarmed me not just with her blade, but with her breathtaking distraction."

His eyes flickered down to your lips, the unspoken desire sparking a flame within you.

“Or maybe something a little more private, as you wish” he continued.

The world seemed to shrink to the heat emanating from your body, the intoxicating scent of wildflower and victory mingled with sweat. Your pulse quickened, a blush blooming on your cheeks.

You laughed in disbelief, smoothly placing your long hair on one side of your head, bright mane elegantly falling like a cascade without you even trying. "Bold proposition, handsome" you replied, voice barely a breath, still trying to catch it. The nickname twisted Luke’s guts, in a good way, might as well have woken up something else. "But maybe you should focus on winning a proper duel before demanding rewards"

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Challenge accepted, my lady” he whispered, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "But know this; our next battle won't be fought with steel, but with wit, charm, and a touch of something… different"

You tilted your head to the side as he took his sword from the grass. "And this time, I won't underestimate an Aphrodite's daughter, or the power of warrior who knows how to play just as dirty as she fights"

This wasn't the playful banter you were used to, but you sure liked it. This was Luke Castellan, awakened, and the thrill of it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"We shall see, Luke" you countered, your voice husky with a newfound nervousness as you pronounced his name. "We shall see."

As you turned to address a new opponent on the field, the memory of his voice, hot and suggestive against your ear, lingered on your skin. This wasn’t what you started, this was a dance of unspoken desires fueled by sweat, steel, and the awakening of a forbidden hunger in the heart of Luke Castellan. And you, the daughter of Aphrodite, were ready to play.

He couldn't help but watch you go, his heart brimming with a newfound determination. He admired your skill, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, the way you made him feel – breathless, excited, and utterly captivated. Your golden figure disappeared into a new crowd of campers looking for someone else to fight.

This was about to be one of the best summers ever.

pt2 here <3

I’m so delulu over this man istg

Currently reading PJ 3rd book :) Had to retake my lecture after I watched the show

ALWAYS OPEN FOR REQUESTS! <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #aphrodite #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo smut #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

[honeytonedhottie]

your guide to effortless glamour⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✨

personal branding - what does glamor mean to YOU. what makes your sense of glamor different from everyone else’s. personal branding is all about individuality. when everyones idea of glamor is identical to each other’s, everyones personal charm dissipates, and "glamor" loses its meaning. thats why its important to not conform to EVERY little trend, or try and copy someone else’s personal brand.   

the difference with getting inspiration from someone and copying someone is simple. when ur inspired by someone, u can do something similar for personal branding, but the distinction between ur brand and INSPIRERS brand is very distinct. 

confidence - the most glamorous people are ALWAYS the most confident. the thing about confidence is that nobody can ACTUALLY determine whether or not its real. because of that it is so easy to fake confidence. fake it till u make it. its SUPER easy to create confidence because of this fact.  

my favorite way to work on my confidence is through self CONCEPT work. if ur a loa girlie then yk that self concept is the FOUNDATION for literally everything and i stress its importance relentlessly bcuz its JUST that important. im currently working on a big self concept post which is dropping soon, but for now i have lots of self concept posts already that u can reference if u dont know where to start.  

treatment - when ur working towards effortless glamor, ofc you’re gonna TREAT yourself as the glamorous individual you are. and what i mean by that is -> treating urself with nothing short of respect and LOVE. some ways to implement effortless glamor into ur life are...

giving urself compliments

AFFIRM TO URSELF (vaunt, and rampage and affirm about how much u love urself, even if u dont at the moment it WILL come into fruition)

self care - pamper urself just like u deserve. take care of ur skin, hair and nails. when u look good u FEEL good. treat urself like a princess, with the upmost care.

pampering yourself - be EXTRAAA and be meticulous. take impeccably good care of ur body and ur health. when ur taking care of urself like u should, you'll glow from the inside out. when u make it a habit to put time into yourself, your confidence AND glamorous energy will skyrocket.

other resources ; i'll add youtubers, and other blogs that i take inspo from for ✨glamor✨ and ofc an affirmations list.

@prissygrlsorority - one of the most GLAMOROUS blogs that i've seen yet. overall a rly good resource.

misstada - one of my favorite youtubers, glamorous makeup tutorials and vlogs.

AFFIRMATIONS - my whole entire existence is so effortlessly glamorous. im the embodiment of the word fabulous. i have fabulous hair, fabulous style, and of COURSE that fabulous smile. im a star.

all in all, KNOW who you are, and remind urself of that ✨ - honey

#honeytonedhottie⭐️ #advice #self concept #it girl #becoming that girl #self care #self love #that girl #it girl energy #dream girl tips #dream girl #dream life #glamor #bratz #bratz doll #girly #girl blogging #girl blog #princess #hyperfemininity #self improvement #self development #confidence #affirmations #glamorous

[azrielhours]

Soft Spot

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3k

Synopsis: Azriel is very particular about his lovers; typically hard-hearted women chosen so they don’t develop an emotional attachment. Reader is one of these lovers, except she’s the sweetest and cheeriest on his roster. This causes Az to begin breaking his rules about intimacy, especially when she unwittingly ends up at his home for work one evening and spends the night.  

Warnings: Smut

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

Azriel Shadowsinger. Methodical, efficient, focused. Rigid dietary habits, discipline in training, unwavering proficiency in espionage. The spies he trained were held to that level of diligence—hell, even the priestesses he oversaw knew he expected order even in his absence.

That detail orientation carried over to his sex life. The lovers he sought were deliberately chosen to allow him to maintain the level of control he desired. Women that understood what he wanted—how he wanted them. Women that didn’t grow emotionally attached, that understood it was purely a physical transaction. Women that he could keep from his busybody family, situated in parts of Velaris that weren’t in their usual line of frequenting.

Azriel found a positive correlation between softer, sweeter women, and their likelihood to form emotional attachment, and an equally positive correlation between women who fucked rougher, who were colder, more jaded, and their ability to remain unattached. Those who didn’t demand he slept over after, that he take them to dinner.

You were the closest thing to an exception, being the cheeriest on the roster, yet you never displayed any attachment to him. Never looked disappointed when he left without eating breakfast. That was one of the things he liked most about you; you were lively—more than any of his other lovers—so he could enjoy the more girlishly charming, satiating parts you offered, but you stayed within the limit of his preferred emotional detachment. It was like a controlled dosage of indulgence.

Besides your vibrant energy, the other thing that made you feel different from the rest was the way you touched him. In a sea of meticulously selected, hard-hearted lovers, you were the only one that touched him softly. The first time you stroked his face tenderly while he was rutting away inside you, he thought you’d crossed some emotional threshold, that you’d begin asking him to be exclusive. To let you meet his family. But that never happened, so he dismissed it.

But it happened again when you once pressed your entire torso to his in an embrace that caught him off guard while you rode him. Held him to your heart until you both found your release.

Azriel figured this was just another avenue of indulgence you sought from him. Pretences of intimacy. If you could enjoy them, so would he. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, even when he began seeking you out over his other lovers. He was still in control.

It was the morning after he’d spent the night at your house. He awoke early, his circadian rhythm in tune with his perfectionism. His fingers felt across the sheets—just to gain his bearings. The sheets felt cold. Good, he insisted. This suited him better anyways.

He dressed, washed up, and made his way out. Maybe you had an early shift, or you liked to meditate. It didn’t matter, it was just his spymaster mind naturally seeking answers. In the kitchen, you were nowhere to be seen, but a singular plate on the island caught his eye.

It was homemade banana bread, each slice in a neat paper wrapper. Beside the plate, there was a note.

Gluten-free, sweetened with honey, full of organic nuts for protein. Made yesterday evening. Hope you like ‘em! Had to run to meet with a friend.

Huh.

Azriel wondered if you’d prepared them specifically for him, or if you just happened to have similar nutritional regiments. He took a slice, leaving your apartment.

He strolled, basking in the emptiness in the streets so early in the morning, and admittedly, the banana bread was very good. Who did you have to meet so early in the morning? Or was it a means to keep him an arm's length away? If anything, that was appropriate—it was simply an occupational by-product to find curiosity in everything. Azriel pushed the thoughts aside, finishing his dillydallying, and winnowed home.

~

Cassian sat next to Azriel in the lounge while everyone transferred there after dinner. He hadn’t seen his brother all day with their respectively packed schedules, but Rhys called an impromptu gathering at the Town House.

“Long night last night?” Cassian asked.

Azriel shrugged. “It was fine.”

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Just another girl. Kind of bubbly.”

“I didn’t know that was your type,” Cassian laughed.

“It’s not. Just trying something new.”

Cassian shook his head, chuckling. “Long as you’re happy.”

Azriel didn’t know if he was necessarily happy, but an image flashed in his head of you baking in your apartment. If you had that concentrated furrow in your brows while you worked.

“What was the meeting called for, again?” he changed the subject.

Cassian shrugged. “Nesta had some new contact she thought would help with research.”

On cue, the twin wraiths entered the space. “Your guest is here,” Nuala spoke, stepping aside.

Azriel’s eyes widened as you walked right into his living room.

Nesta stood from her seat. You squeezed her in a tight embrace, joy unconcealed as you laughed brightly. Nesta began introducing you to everyone who you greeted with similar enthusiasm, the sweetness practically dripping off you. Your pretty smiles and firm handshakes had everyone matching your warm energy, and Azriel found his throat going dry.

Your eyes scanned the room, halting and widening when you spotted him. Then snapped back to the High Lord who was asking you about archive sources for the library.

“I—I have a friend who works in the Day Court. They—um—” another glance at Azriel, cheeks bright red— “they accidentally duplicated some texts. I’ll get the details for you soon.”

Cassian noted your glances at Azriel, not necessarily a rare sight for females to be smitten by him, but when he saw his brother’s shadows snaking the ground hastily—a tell of Azriel’s restlessness—Cassian narrowed his eyes.

You made your way over, shaking hands with the General, pointedly avoiding Azriel’s eye. Cassian tried to ease your apprehension by smiling kindly, making a joke about walking into a den of vipers to which you laughed.

Then it was Azriel’s turn, and he was facing his lover in front of his entire family.

You stared up at Azriel, brows raised and eyes wide like a doe. Your blushing cheeks and nervous fidgeting had Azriel biting back a smile despite the ordeal, unexpectedly amused by the fluster. It was adorable.

Azriel stuck out his hand, seeking to ease your nerves, surprising even himself at the urge. You placed your hand in his, still hesitant. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “Nesta introduced us earlier,” he lied.

“Oh. Yes. It’s good to see you again, Azriel,” you quickly recovered, and Azriel was impressed, resisting the upward tug of his lips.

His shadows whispered of Nesta frowning at the lie, then just as quickly, her mouth parting in realization. She came over, pointedly staring at Azriel, then looped her arm through yours and guided you to sit as everyone retook their seats.

Conversation resumed. You were occupied with the High Lord and Lady, answering questions about the texts. Azriel glimpsed at you again, taking in how expressive you naturally were, how he could read your every emotion. The way your eyes shone when you showed interest in something, how you nodded eagerly. He’d always taken pleasure in how responsive you were, but he’d rarely seen you outside the bedroom; didn’t get to enjoy it otherwise. Cassian leaned over to Azriel. “Not your type, hey?”

“Shut up,” Azriel muttered as Cassian chuckled.

Someone eventually brought out Rhys’s good wine, and the group indulged themselves. You listened eagerly as Cassian told stories at Azriel’s expense, peering over at him shyly. Azriel couldn’t help but wink, making you blush all over again and break his gaze.

Soon the respective couples began retiring. Nesta was making promises about meeting with you again when she suddenly faced Azriel, mischief bright in her eyes. “Azriel can fly you home, Y/N. Have a goodnight.” She rose, taking Cassian’s hand who was biting back a laugh.

When the room finally cleared, it was just you and Azriel.

You faced him. “Azriel, I’m sorry—I didn’t know this was your house,” you stammered. Azriel had never seen you so nervous before.

“It’s alright, this was an unexpected… coincidence. I hope it wasn’t uncomfortable for you.”

Your brows rose earnestly. “No, your friends are lovely. I just hope you’re not upset or anything.”

Azriel shook his head. “Not at all.” He scanned your tense form. “It’s alright, I’m not upset.”

You nodded, forcing a tight smile. “I can just walk home by myself, it’s okay.” You collected your bag, looking to the door, but Azriel found himself speaking before he thought twice.

“I didn’t know you knew Nesta.”

Your attention was drawn back. “I met her at a bookstore a while back. I was just with her this morning.”

Ah. “So that’s who you snuck off to see,” Azriel smiled teasingly.  

You gaped for a beat before smiling comfortably. “We had a very important meeting.” You finally seemed to relax; he found himself wanting more.

“Is my company so dull that you needed to replace it with books at eight in the morning?”

You laughed openly now, making Azriel grin. “Oh, yes. Real monotonous guy. Quite the prude.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Azriel stepped closer, and you craned your neck back. “I’m just not doing it for you?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re not enjoying yourself?” he murmured.

You shook your head, staring up at him as he stepped even closer.

Then he bent to whisper in your ear. “That’s not what it felt like.”

Azriel relished the sight of your mouth parting in shock. Then your eyes narrowed, and you rose on your tiptoes to whisper back, “You can’t prove that.”

His brows rose. “Is that a challenge?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I suppose.”

Azriel shook his head, glaring playfully as he weighed his options. He’s never brought a lover home. All escapades were done at their houses or some ulterior location. He eyed the stairs, wondering if he could muster the willpower to turn you down, especially with the way you were looking up at him.

When he met your gaze again, he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell. He scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist, and winnowed to his room.

You gasped, clutching onto him before the world rematerialized. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d be here, that Azriel would ever let you in like this. You stepped out of his hold, nervousness creeping up on you all over again. Azriel was the most enigmatic male you’d ever come across, but this felt unpredictable even for him.

Azriel watched you pace, taking in his space in the dark. Watched as you crossed your arms across your abdomen, the stress he’d noted in your body earlier becoming visible again.

Worst of all, Azriel had the distinct urge to comfort the anxiety away. Again.

You’d lounged with his family, and now he bore witness to the sight of you in his room. It was too intimate. It broke his rules, taunted his discipline.

Azriel walked over to where you stood near the window, and you turned to face him. He brought a hand up to the back of your neck, cradling it. “Have you changed your mind?” he asked lowly.

“No,” you stepped closer to him.

Azriel kissed you. There was nothing soft about the way he moved his mouth, how he pressed into you demandingly. He felt your gasp in his mouth, gripping you tighter to him. His other hand moved through your hair, fisting it at the scalp and tugging it back for more access.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, matching his fervour, and it only spurred him on. He walked you back to his bed, yanking at your clothes blindly, stripping you without releasing your mouth.

You were naked by the time your knees hit the mattress, and Azriel broke off to watch you fall back into the bed.

His bed.

He growled and began yanking off his clothes. He crawled to where you lay, hovering over your body. Your legs widened instinctually, allowing him to cushion his hardening length against your core, relishing in the warmth. He ground into you, kissing your neck. Your gasps were frequent, hands carding through his hair as your hips bucked of their own accord against his movement. You reached down between your bodies and stroked his length. Azriel shuddered, leaning into your touch. But then you looked up at him again with those damned eyes, and Azriel’s breath caught.

“Turn around,” he rasped.

You stared for a beat, brows faintly pinching before obliging him. He lifted off you to give you the breadth to turn, watching as you braced yourself on your hands and knees.

Azriel stroked himself against you a few more times before easing in, groaning at the tight fit. He waited a few moments as you adjusted to the stretch before he began moving.

Azriel had never made love before, but even when he regularly fucked his women, he did so within the limits of what they wanted. What they could take. But as he repeatedly withdrew and buried himself, there was a distinct urge to take you harder. Like being rougher would salvage his detachment, annul any inklings of intimacy. Erase the etching of your wide-eyed gaze from his consciousness. So he pounded hard, savouring how you massaged him from the inside. How you arched forward from the force, bracing yourself on your forearms from the harsh snap of his hips.

He’d taken you from the back before, but even then, you’d managed to work some tender touch into the act; grasping his hands where they gripped your hips, a stroke to his thighs from beneath your body. But this time, you weren’t making any attempts as he jackknifed again and again.

No soft touches.

That observation grounded Azriel in the haze of his unrelenting carnal chase. He studied your form. You were panting, taking him well and clenching around his length, but he noted that tension was still present in your body—your shoulders and back were stiff. Azriel gentled his thrusting. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you breathed. Then you reached a hand back as if to touch his reassuringly, but you froze mid-reach and retracted it. That sent an ugly pang through his chest.

Your words from before echoed in his mind. I hope you’re not upset.

Azriel halted inside you.

He was a bastard for making you endure his callousness.

You pushed back against him, trying to urge him on, but Azriel didn’t let up, holding your hips firmly in place. “Why’d you stop?” you whined.

Because you’re not touching me like you usually do.

It was like cold water to the face, realizing what he wanted.

But Azriel couldn’t explain it. Didn’t want to admit to it—the urge to treat you softly, to soothe away your worry. That he sought your caresses. So he didn’t try to verbalize it. Instead, he pulled out, gently guiding you onto your back, and lowered himself to his forearms on either side of your head. You stared in awe.

When he entered you this time, it was slower, more intentional. Immediately, your face contorted in pleasure, and Azriel could feel how your body eased beneath his, how you relaxed. And when he lowered his mouth to yours, you sighed. He kissed you deeply and softly. Sweetly. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him tighter to your torso, to wrap your legs firmly around his waist. Azriel’s deep groan reverberated through your chest, bringing you back to the edge of release.

He moved with deliberate, deep strokes, adjusting according to how you responded, which angles made you gasp. There was no space between your bodies; with each push, you felt him everywhere, felt him brush against your breasts, felt his hips move languidly between your trembling thighs.

He noted how close you were from your writhing against him, how you arched further into his heaving chest. So he snaked a hand down to your apex and rubbed gentle circles, tipping you over the edge. Release tore through you, and you couldn’t breathe, white-hot ecstasy coursing through you as he worked you through it. He raised his head to watch you fall apart.

When the waves abated, you pulled his head down against yours, his cheekbone resting directly against your lips. His eyes fluttered shut when you stroked his other cheek softly, whispering breathily for him to let go, baby, let go, and you felt his orgasm tear through him, how it erupted warm bursts of his seed deep in your belly. You kept stroking his cheek as he came down, only releasing him when he stopped shuddering.

When he pulled back and looked at you, there was something in his eyes you’d never seen before. Then, a tiny smile tugged the edges of his lips up, and he finally removed himself from you, laying next to you.

Before you could even consider whether he wanted you to stay, Azriel tugged the sheet over your body and wordlessly caressed your hip. By his standards, it was an invitation if you’ve ever seen one, so you silently shuffled closer with your back to him and basked in the way he pulled you to his chest.

For the first time, Azriel initiated the soft touches. He cupped your shoulders, stroking down your arms to your hands, interweaving his fingers with yours with his palms cradling the back of your hands. He crossed your clasped hands across your abdomen.

You sighed, pressing closer to his chest, savouring his body heat. He’d never held you like this—never held you at all. “You’re so warm, Az,” you breathed, squeezing his fingers.

Rules be damned, he thought.

When he was sure you’d fallen asleep, he whispered, “You bring it out of me.”

~

Azriel awoke; the remnants of a feeling lingering in his mind… something peaceful. Something hopeful.

You’d stayed the night. At his house. Slept in his arms.

He reached across the sheets. When they were cold, he couldn’t lie to himself, couldn’t deny his disappointment.

Had he taken it too far? Was it because he’d been so rough before he gentled himself?

Azriel frowned, rising out of bed.

It was ten in the morning. He’d slept in. Whatever’d gotten under his skin lately was really giving him a run for his money. He had a sinking feeling it had to do with a bubbly girl with a wide-eyed stare.

Azriel entered the kitchen, finding his entire family already eating.

“Late morning?” Cassian grinned.

“Late night, more like,” Rhys added as Azriel rolled his eyes, taking his seat.

The food tasted bland. Azriel frowned into his coffee; why did it bother him this much? You were only doing what he always did—leaving immediately. Should he expect something different just because he’d been soft with you?

Then Nesta entered the kitchen, and you walked in right behind her.

Azriel’s eyes widened, and you halted. “Oh,” you breathed.

Nesta smiled devilishly. “I was just showing Y/N the library while you slept in, Azriel.”

Oh.

Azriel nodded in silence, finding his plate suddenly very interesting.

“I—I’m just going to get my bag,” you said, turning to leave hurriedly.

In your absence, all eyes turned to Azriel, who let out a longwinded exhale. When he deigned to look, everyone was smirking.

“Looks like someone had a big boy sleepover,” Mor teased.

Cassian drawled, “Anything you’d like to share, Az?”

“Not particularly,” Azriel replied, standing to leave, ignoring the innuendos tossed around, the wolf whistle sounding above the laughter.

Azriel walked back to his room, an unexpected nervousness creeping up on him. You stood inside. “Y/N,” he spoke softly, drawing your attention.

“Azriel, I don’t mean to impose. I didn’t know your friends would be in the kitchen.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright. You’re not imposing. I’m—I’m glad you stayed,” his cheeks warmed at his own admission.

You bit your lip. “It’s just—I know you’re very… um, particular. With your methods.”

Azriel smiled. “My methods?”

You fidgeted, smiling shyly. “Mhm.”

He walked closer. “Well, it seems you’re making a rulebreaker out of me.”

Your eyes narrowed, glinting with mischief.

“Will you stay for breakfast?” He beamed when your mouth parted, fond of your candid nature. “Unfortunately, I can’t say I baked any pastries for you.”

But you quickly recovered, glaring accusatorily. “Who’s to say those were for you?”

There was that sass he adored. Azriel laughed. “My apologies for assuming.”

You gazed up at him in wonder. “I’d love to. It’s just—you know, your prude tendencies,” you shrugged. “They’re not to my liking.”  

Azriel chuckled. “Not the prude tendencies again.”

You smiled warmly. “I didn’t think I’d be—you know… I didn’t account for our time. I have to run, unfortunately.” Damn. Before he could sit with the sting of disappointment, you continued. “But I’m gonna be really hungry this evening.”

“Dinner, then?”

You touched a hand softly to his arm. He wondered if you knew what those touches did to him. “Yes, dinner. I’ll see you at seven, Shadowsinger.”

Moments later, as Azriel stood by the foyer window watching you leave, Cassian approached him, leaning over his shoulder. “Look’s like someone’s got a soft spot,” he muttered. Azriel scoffed, but the words rang true. Cassian added, “I’m happy for you. Are you happy?”

Azriel unwittingly smiled as you turned at the end of the street, peering over your shoulder, catching his eye and winking.

“Yeah, I’m happy.”

~

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