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quinzzelx · 8 days

Text

Eros

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+

A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.

Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."

You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.

"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.

"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"

"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"

When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"

In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.

Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.

You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.

As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.

In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.

They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!

"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."

Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I—" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.

Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.

A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.

"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.

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Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.

"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.

His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.

Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.

"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.

His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.

"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.

Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.

Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.

"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"

Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."

"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.

"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.

As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.

"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.

Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.

"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.

As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.

But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.

Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.

As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.

Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."

But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."

As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.

"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."

Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.

"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.

Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.

As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.

Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.

A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.

"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.

Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.

When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.

His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.

You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.

His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.

"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.

For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."

“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.

With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.

As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.

While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.

A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.

Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.

Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.

With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."

Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.

Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."

Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.

Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.

With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.

Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.

You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."

Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy. As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.

"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt." As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."

As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."

His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."

With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.

As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.

"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."

Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.

His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."

His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.

As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.

Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.

Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.

Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.

As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."

But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."

Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."

With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."

As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."

A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.

Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.

"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."

He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."

Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.

He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."

You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."

He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.

The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.

The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.

Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.

With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.

As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."

A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.

Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.

In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.

Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.

Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.

A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.

Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.

Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”

With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.

"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.

You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.

He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.

"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.

"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.

You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."

His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.

"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.

"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."

The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.

#smut #x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #reader insert #filth #pure filth #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel angst

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urrockstar-xe · 1 year

Text

meant for each other - j.m x fem!reader

posted april 30th, 2023, 9:23 pm

pure fucking fluff this is so cutesy im sry

masterlist

wordcount: 0.9k

“What do you see in him?”

Sarah’s question made you laugh. What did you see in him? Please,

When you looked at JJ you saw the stars that scattered the sky the night you shared your first kiss, you saw the sunlight coming in through your curtain, shining perfectly over the boy lying fast asleep in your bed. You saw the waves crashing against you in the most comforting way possible.

When you looked at JJ you saw your safe space, your future, and a slight fear of ever relating to “the one that got away” by Katy Perry. This is ironic considering your entire life you’ve been practically preaching words like “You’re 16 he’s not the love of your life, he’s just some boy, don’t worry, the pain will end” but now you get it because if anything were to happen you probably wouldn’t shower a lot and you’d cry so much you’d end up the most dehydrated you’ve ever been.

But as Sarah and Kie giggled beside you, you didn’t say all that. You simply responded, “What do you see in john b and fucking Topper?”

This threw the three of you into another fit of laughter as Kiara seconded what you said and Sarah defended her taste in men. You let her, and all of her points were valid. You didn’t defend your taste because it seemed impossible for anyone to understand.

And for the most part, you were right. Your friends would watch as you laughed at a stupid joke JJ made or how fast he’d do something simply because you’re the one who asked (“jj open this beer for me?” “Yes, ma’am”), they’d watch as you scold him for the hundredth time through tears because he takes the phrase “ride or dies” far too literally for your liking. They noticed every single time that JJ sat down how he’d nod towards you as a signal to come to sit by him, and how you happily obliged every time, whether it be in his lap or on the floor in front of him. (though when this is the case he’ll have you switch places while making some dirty joke about sitting between your legs which always ends in you shoving his shoulder and him using your thigh as a pillow). They notice how gentle you act towards him whenever there's a new bruise on his cheek or cut on his lip. They notice all of it and for the last 2 years (1 year and 3 months of friendship, 8 months of something more) John B will say “They’re meant for each other,” and his two friends would nod and hum in agreement. Sarah caught on fairly fast to how you two were. The dynamic of two people who would do anything to prevent losing all they had.

The first time she fully noticed just how bad it was, happened a while back when John B was getting arrested and the cops had you all surrounded.

She saw the look that flashed in your eyes when you saw JJ prepping his gun for whatever idiotic idea he had in mind, she saw the sirens going off in your head as he watched John B direct JJ’s plan elsewhere and give himself up. The sirens didn’t stop until all of the cop cars and boats were scattering back to where they belonged. Leaving the group of pogues without their friend. But all you could think of was the image of your boyfriend murdered in front of you by a bunch of cops. Because yeah it didn’t happen but what if it had? Sarah had seen the way you pushed JJ back just to grab fistfuls of his shirt and bring him right back to you, “what the fuck was that, JJ? Huh? If they had even seen that gun you’d be bleeding out right now, No actually you’d probably be fucking dead” Pope tried to intervene but he was quickly shut up by Kiara pulling him back to her side, silently telling him to leave you be. JJ was quiet, his eyes rapidly moving to follow the stream of tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands softly placed on your wrists to try and keep your hands from shaking more than they already had been.

“You always say that stupid shit about having nothing to lose but I fucking do JJ and it’s you, you’re what I have to lose and if you ever do some stupid shit like that again I swear to god-”

And at that moment, as Sarah saw you practically fall into him, sobbing into his shoulder while he held you together, she realized.

She saw what you saw, she saw everything you had, everything you needed, who happened to come in the form of a pretty and reckless teenage boy.

Now, months later, she watched as you were twirled in a circle by that very same boy. Smiling and Laughing as you danced under the tree lights at the chateau.

“They’re meant for each other” This time it was Sarah saying it, with a soft smile on her lips. Four people agreed in hums and nods. “They've always been like that?” Cleo’s question was immediately answered by groans and laughs, “only since the beginning of time,” Pope replied, “it’s like they're in their own little disgusting world,” Kie joked.

“I think it’s sweet,” Sarah said, “me too,” John B agreed.

#jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagines #outer banks imagines #obx imagine #Spotify

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estrellami-1 · 1 year

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Never Forgot

Based on this post.

Steve knew something was wrong when she ran out of the room, choking back tears.

He felt bad, felt like there was something missing, but he didn’t remember her. Thinking about it, he realized he didn’t really remember anything.

“Robin?” Dustin asked when she all but ran out of the hospital room.

She stifled a sob and collapsed onto the bench next to him, holding a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Dustin, he… he doesn’t remember me.”

Dustin took a deep breath and very carefully did not freak out. “Okay. You stay here, I’ll go talk to him. See if we can shake it loose or something.” He rolled his eyes at the look she gave him. “Not literally, Buckley, jeez. Keep your pants on.”

He squared his shoulders and walked into the hospital room. Steve looked fine, if tired—hospital lighting never did anyone any favors—but the absent smile he sent Dustin spoke volumes. “Hi,” he said quietly, stilted in a way he never was anymore. Not with Dustin. “Um, can you apologize to her for me? She seemed really upset and I’m not sure what I did but I think it’s my fault.”

Dustin sighed and sat in the chair by Steve’s hospital bed. “You really don’t remember her, huh.” It wasn’t a question, so Steve didn’t answer. “And I’m guessing you don’t remember me, either?”

Steve picked at the blanket on his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus fuck,” Dustin whispered, screwing his eyes shut. “Don’t apologize, Jesus, it’s not your fault. It just… sucks.”

Steve snorted. “Imagine waking up and only remembering one person.”

Dustin looked up at him sharply. “One person?”

Steve shrugged. “Guess I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I didn’t, yeah.”

“Boyfriend?” Dustin blinked. “Steve, you’re not dating anyone.”

Steve frowned. “I am. Maybe you don’t know him? Eddie? Eddie Munson?”

“Eddie- Christ, Steve, of course I know Eddie, and you two aren’t dating. You’re, like, as straight as they come.”

“No- no, I am, I’m dating him, I’m- we’re-”

“Whoa, okay, hold up, calm down,” Dustin said, holding his hands out. “It’s fine, dude, okay, we’ll figure it out later but I don’t think you should be stressing this hard after just waking up.”

Steve hummed. “What, uh. What actually happened to me?”

Dustin sighed. “The doctors said your body essentially performed a hard reset. You’ve been running on fumes for too long. You collapsed from sheer exhaustion. At least you didn’t hit your head this time, though maybe that would’ve prevented you from losing your memory, so who fuckin’ knows.”

“Language,” Steve chided, then blinked when Dustin looked at him excitedly. “I don’t know where that came from.”

Dustin just laughed. It was only a little forced. “You’re just incapable of not being a mom.”

————��—————

Robin went back in next, lightly tapping Dustin’s shoulder as she passed him in the doorway. He shook his head, and her heart sank. “He-” Dustin shook his head, bit his lip. “He thinks he and Eddie are dating. Eddie’s the only person he remembers.”

Robin gave him a little half-smile. “He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while. I didn’t realize it was this bad, but.” She shrugged. “I’ll talk to him. You call everyone else?”

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath and walked into the room. “So,” she started. “You really don’t remember?”

Steve shook his head, eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

“Dustin said you remember one person?”

“Mhm. Eddie.”

“Right. And you and Eddie? What are you?”

Steve frowned even deeper. “Boyfriends. If we’re this close, shouldn’t you know that?”

Robin shrugged. “I’d like to think so. That’s why Dustin and I aren’t convinced you are dating. Maybe your memories are just… really vivid daydreams.”

“You really think so?”

Robin sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to think, Steve. Hell, I didn’t even know how bad it was until you collapsed. Some soulmate I am.”

“With a capital P,” Steve said, holding up a hand before Robin could say anything. “Sometimes certain memories are triggered. It’s… like a puzzle piece slotting into place. But I’ve got about a million more pieces missing. I can’t see what that specific piece connects to.”

Robin hums. “Okay. So you remember Eddie. And if I say Hellfire..?” Steve just frowned. “Or… Metallica?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I know that one.”

“Did you know that before I said it?”

Steve nodded. “Hellfire’s related to Eddie?”

Robin chuckled. “You could say that.”

“What is it?”

She laughed again. “I think I’ll let your boyfriend explain that one.”

“Even though you don’t believe we’re dating.”

Robin spread her hands. “Soulmates with a capital P, Steve. I can’t think of any reason you wouldn’t at least tell me. Especially since you know—err, knew—I’m a lesbian.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe Eddie didn’t want to? Does he know?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.” He frowned again. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “I’m not asking you to have all the answers. Especially now. Just… think about it, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised. “Um. Are you okay?”

“Jesus, Steve.” Robin laughed. It was only mostly hysterical. “Of course you’d still be thinking about everyone else. I’m fine. Or- I will be. You just take care of yourself, dingus.”

He chuckled. “Will do, Robbie.”

She sighed. “Another puzzle piece?” He nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go track down Dustin and see where he’s at with all the other ankle-biters.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She lingered for a half-second, then sighed again and walked out.

——————————

He was released two days later. Drove himself home, Robin in the passenger seat and Dustin in the back row. Dustin quizzed him about the rest of the Party the whole way home, made sure Steve knew their names forwards, backwards and upside down, as well as what everyone was like. “Max is kickass,” he said. “Like, she’ll absolutely smile in your face as she knees you in the balls. And it’s the kinda smile that strikes fear into a man. She’s awesome. And-”

“Okay,” Steve said, amused. He didn’t know how Dustin could go that long without a breath. “I’ll know what you’re talking about as soon as we get out of the car and get inside, right?”

Dustin yelped when he looked up to see them parked before scrambling out the door and running inside.

Steve grinned at Robin, who grinned back, before they made their way inside, albeit at a slower pace than Dustin had.

Steve vaguely recognized everybody, but his attention focused in on a very specific person. “Eds.”

Eddie smiled, small and soft and sweet, one of Steve’s favorites. “Heya, Stevie.”

Suddenly he couldn’t help himself. He had to be with Eddie, right then, it couldn’t wait, so he didn’t. Practically flung himself at Eddie, like he knew Eddie would catch him (he did). Attaches his mouth to Eddie’s, a silent promise, I never forgot you, flowing between them.

When they pulled back, Eddie stared at him like he’d hung the fucking sun. “You remember?” Eddie asked in a whisper.

“Never forgot,” Steve promised, at the same volume.

“What. The actual. Fuck,” Robin said. Eddie and Steve froze as they turned to face her and the rest of the Party, who were all staring with the same expression.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered. “We forgot to tell Robin.”

#Dustin: not us?????#Eddie: no bc you’d be annoying af about it #eddie munson has adhd #steve Harrington has adhd #they’re both my precious babies and I love them #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #st fic #muse deserted me but I actually mostly like what I have #I’m begging someone. anyone else to do it better though #starambles

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youalreadyhavefullresults · 9 months

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the mindset journey

So hi.

My mindset has been evolving a lot ever since I started this journey, and I thought I'd lay it all out in one post. Subliminals, mindless affirming, scripting, visualization, states. I've tried so many things out, and I think I've finally figured out what works for me.

TLDR:

Stop “trying” to manifest or checking the 3d, you already have full results, creation was over like since forever.

Sure you know that you’re God, as the posts and everything you’ve seen tells you, but have you really embraced that internally?

It doesn’t matter how many posts you read, it’s up to you to actually change your mindset.

Logic is literally useless, be delusional (don’t you just wanna go ape-shit :), go get your fucking desires)

Time is not linear, and means nothing when manifesting.

Revision is so powerful, use it.

It’s just so easy guys, please just make sure you’re actually applying the information you see instead of just passively scrolling through.

And the rest is under the cut, happy reading <33

I started off in the subliminal community in Oct 2020 and just had so many limiting beliefs, it was sad. Not to shit on the community or anything, some of them are wonderful people and most of them have changed their mindset as well, but my initial knowledge prevented me from getting to this point until now. But, now I’m here, and a day after I wrote this in my drafts, I literally manifested my ideal life. I originally started this blog to collect advice from loa blogs, but honestly, I don’t need any of it anymore. Though I do like helping people, so if you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask.

The Initial Mindset:

I always read through countless posts that say “You’re God” and “You literally can get what you want without even trying.” While I understood the text and adopted the mindset, I still did little subconscious things that contradicted it. While I affirmed my self-concept was perfect, I would also cram-study for exams and worry I would fail. I would say I look perfect, but then also worry about the way my body looked. Also, the way that I literally became obsessed with loa media? I spent hours watching Sammy Ingram videos, looping subliminals, and reading tumblr posts on “how to manifest faster and better”. During this phase of my life, my mind was plagued with intrusive thoughts and my self-concept was slowly getting better, but still absolute shit. I would manifest things here and there, but nothing life-changing.

The main problem however, was the fact that I would treat manifesting like a task I HAD to do. Now that school was back in session, I literally would zone out during specific classes on purpose and just affirm to myself. I would feel bad if I hadn’t listened to my subliminal playlist for the day because I “wasted time in getting my desires”. There’s nothing wrong with vainly affirming or listening to subs if you believe it works, but for me, treating manifesting like a task meant that I was looking for an outcome. Clearly, now I know better, that everything is always done and that there’s nothing to complete, but back then, this was probably the main reason why I struggled to see full results easily. I was acting out of desperation and didn't believe manifestation already was done.

When Everything Changed:

I know that it’s different for everyone, but my “aha!” moment was probably when I read this post. Seriously, go read it, it made me realize that I was going about it all wrong. Now, it wasn’t learning how to perfect my manifesting, it was learning to pull out the tiny limiting beliefs that had burrowed its way into my subconscious.

For example,

“I need to do xyz so that I can get my manifestations.”

Why would I would need to do anything if I already have all of my manifestations hmm? It’s literally already done. Like there’s no need to put in that effort into something that’s already perfect right? So why do I need to even need to try? I literally get whatever tf I want without even trying. This doesn’t mean that every method out there is useless, but in the end, you are the one doing the manifesting, not the method.

“But... this makes absolutely no logical sense! How would this even work?”

I know that STEM me loves finding the logic behind everything, so that’s why I struggled a lot with the logic and time aspect. But darling, it doesn’t need to make sense. There are literally so many things in the world that scientists to this day can’t explain, including just how powerful and complex your brain is. Not to mention the fact that concepts such as logic and science are literally man-made too? What’s the point in trying to deal with logic? Just let go and have fun.

“I affirmed so hard, and I believed it. But then it never showed up when the time came.”

First off, your time spent affirming means nothing, sorry to break it to you. It’s about the mindset(your state if you will) you currently exist in that truly makes a difference. And just because it didn’t show up today doesn’t mean that you missed your window of opportunity. Revision is still manifesting, because time is not a linear concept. Anything at any time can just change with a snap of your fingers. You want to change all of your test scores? Bam, it’s done. you wish WW2 never happened? Bam, it’s done. You want to relive the past 5 years of your life? Bam, it’s done. It doesn’t matter what the event is, what time it is, or that you “didn’t do it before the deadline”. Whenever you do get it(which is instant/soon if you're persisting properly), it will be there, seamlessly blended in with your 3d. You don’t need to worry about a damn thing, your subconscious will take care of everything for you.

“Oh no! I just had intrusive thoughts, did I just mess up my manifestations?”

Why are you giving intrusive thoughts the power to do anything? Sure, you may get them, but that doesn’t mean that they have any effect on you. It’s the doubt they make you feel in your mindset that truly messes it up. Don’t give in. Acknowledge the thought, accept that it literally means nothing, and continue to persist. Your thoughts only have the power you give them.

“Nah, everyone has to be lying, this doesn’t seem real.” / ”Manifesting must just be a coincidence, there’s no way this is real.”

Oh? So you’re saying, the amount of posts you’ve seen, all of the success stories, all of the followers and comments, are you saying every single one of them is lying? No. I’m not saying that every single one of them is truthful, but there’s no way that every single one of them would lie and put this much work into something that’s not real. If you find yourself struggling to believe in the law, I’d suggest you try to manifest something small, and then build up your belief from there. I sure as hell didn’t believe in any of this from the beginning, but then, I manifested consciously for the first time. Again, and again. It became easier, and my life got better. It soon becomes apparent that literally everything you think happens. I always used to wonder how things I randomly thought in the back of my head always happened even though I literally didn’t do anything about it in the 3d. This proved to me that your mental state is more powerful than it seems.

“Can I manifest-”

Yes. Just yes. You’re GOD. GOD. Why tf is God asking some random loa account if they can manifest something or not? Ofc God would know that they can manifest whatever the fuck they want instantly. Do you think when God said “Let there be light”, he first asked people around him if he could? No. He took that shit and just fucking ran with it.

“But-but, what if-”

Uh-uh. I don’t want to fucking hear it. Like I said in the previous section, stop overthinking everything you do. Just go. Run with what you already know and manifest the life of your dreams. You don’t need to keep looking for new information, some specific post that changes everything for you. All they can do for you is steer you in the right direction. You’re the one who’s going to have to figure out our mindset and pull yourself together, no one else can do it. Take back your power, embrace it. I don’t care if you unfollow every single loa account or delete tumblr, just stop looking for the next post. Why would you need more information when you already have everything you need?

I wrote down everything I struggled with, forgot about it, and continued to persist in my new mindset. I ignored any negative 3d circumstances, and just vibed in the feeling that my desires were already here, that feeling of contentment someone has when everything in their life is just amazing. The main question I asked myself was, what would a person who had ____ think, and I went from there. Soon the things I wanted just started popping up in my life, just as I knew it would. I feel like the things I’ve said in this post are pretty much the same concepts you see all over loa tumblr, which is why it’s so important that you actively take in the information that’s being given to you and actually apply it. I was obsessed with tumblr and kept on scrolling through countless blogs and posts, and I was only able to fully manifest after I stepped away from all of that. There is no big secret. There’s no miraculous method that will fix everything for you. There’s just... you. And your subconscious. Whatever you tell your subconscious, goes. As simple as that.

How about, instead of scrolling to whatever next loa post you were about to see on this app, you close tumblr and just go live your best life? Don’t overcomplicate it and just do whatever feels natural to you. I hope this post helped, happy manifesting!

-cinna

#self concept #motivation #loa #law of assumption #manifestation #subconscious #success story #mine #mindset #neville goddard #manifesting #loassumption #law of manifestation

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eatingfireflies · 23 days

Text

I was on the hoyolab app doing my check-in and saw someone asking why Sunday suddenly started talking about the way Aventurine wears his clothes in the middle of a long conversation about other things.

I actually liked that bit so let's talk about it!! Not in the hoyolab app because I can't write long meta there, but here. Where people can't see me. Oops.

(my screenshots game is weak so I took a bunch of stuff from here. Also checked here to see what the Jp translation says. These people don't know me, I just like their videos.)

What is this old rich vs nouveau riche conversation 😂

But nah, the implication here is Aventurine is a pantser (which he tells us earlier)

while Sunday isn't. Sunday needs to have everything decided and planned and all his pawns arranged on the table before he makes a move.

But Black Swan tells us in the beginning that this is one of the reasons why dealing with Aventurine is dangerous

When he says he'll play it by ear, he means he'll adjust his actions and reactions based on what he's getting from the other person.

Sunday's weakness is not only underestimating Aventurine, but also being unable to adjust his plans or even actually listen to what his opponent is saying

Sunday is wrong here: Dr Ratio doesn't value the pursuit of knowledge above all. (This is why he's not a Genius Society member! He values ethics and fairness above knowledge or prestige. But tbf, even Screwllum got this wrong about Ratio.)

'But how can you be sure of that?'

Because Ratio says so. To Sunday. In reply to Sunday's offer.

In Jp he says それがわかっているなら、一人前の学者は自分の立場を弁え、つまらない尊厳のために大事なものを失ったりしないことも知っているだろう。'In that case, you should know a competent scholar knows how to stand their ground and not lose something important* for the sake of trivial dignity**.'

* his ethics

** prestige

Sorry, Chadwick. But Ratio is different 😂

So you've already lost one of your bargaining chips if you're Sunday

But he moves forward anyway, because he's already gone outside and can't adjust his clothes anymore. If he was even listening to Ratio, that is 😂 He was so convinced he's got Ratio's personality correctly

And Ratio also has to move forward with this because it's part of Aventurine's plan

even though Ratio doesn't necessarily approve of it (I also want to talk about the plan and also I'm losing my mind about the posts I've seen talking about the references that were made in game, but there's no more space for screencaps so let's do that in a different post!!)

The moral lesson is: don't believe rich people when they give tips on how to prevent wardrobe malfunction

#honkai star rail spoilers #penacony #aventurine #sunday hsr #dr ratio #d metas

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months

Text

Given all the really excellent and interesting talk about this recently, I wanted to write up a quick list of ways we see Izzy being consistently abusive to Ed in season 1, just so I have a handy post to link to the next time someone asks me "wait, how is Izzy abusive?"

(Again, I genuinely like Izzy. I think he's a great character, but dismissing how he behaves in s1 defangs him as a character, cheapens his s2 arc, and decontextualizes a lot of Ed's behavior.)

Izzy is shown as being emotionally abusive to Ed throughout season 1, because he:

Controls the information Ed has access to. In s1e3, we see Izzy tell Ed his own version of events, twisting them to suit his purposes. He does this so easily and cleanly it's clear he's probably been lying to Ed to manipulate his perception of events for a long time.

Isolates Ed from others. We do not see Ed talk to any crew members before s1e4, and even then, Izzy cuts the conversation short. He also prevents anyone from seeing Ed in s1e10 until Ed makes him ask for Lucius. In s2 Ed tells us that he knew very little about Fang despite having worked with him for 20 years - Izzy seems to make a habit of making Ed unapproachable.

On that note, Izzy insults and demeans Ed to other crew members, creating his own narrative around Ed's actions. He says he "massages" the crew when they're worried about Ed's judgment, but what he actually does is tell them Ed's "half-insane." He is creating a situation where Ed is reliant on Izzy for information and the crew feel like they need Izzy to interpret what he presents as the irrational demands of an insane man, even though we as the audience know Ed's behavior is never as erratic or irrational as Izzy makes it out to be.

Insults and demeans Ed to his face. Izzy is not shy about calling Ed insane and unpleasant to his face, and Ed doesn't seem surprised to hear it. I don't think it's a coincidence that Ed admits while he's in the gravy basket in s2 that he's scared he's insane - that's one of Izzy's favorite insults to apply to him and he's clearly internalized it.

Ignores Ed's feelings and wants when he's not acting the way Izzy believes is appropriate. We see Ed constantly reaching out to Izzy in s1e4 to share his thoughts and excitement, and Izzy shuts him down every time. Izzy's created a situation where Ed can only really talk to Izzy, and Ed is clearly desperate for human connection.

Pushes Ed to harm someone Ed loves, even when Izzy knows that Ed "adores" Stede and Stede makes him genuinely happy. Izzy is very insistant about getting Ed to kill Stede, even once it's obvious Ed has already deeply bonded with Stede.

Literally "buys" Ed in return for selling Stede out. This is just gross and unacceptable, not to mention wildly racist. Frankly I think Ed showed remarkable restraint for only punching him once.

Tries to get Stede killed in front of Ed, multiple times.

Obviously, threatens and mocks Ed when Ed isn't behaving "appropriately." When Ed is starting to feel better in s1e10, and is reaching out to the crew and connecting with them, and is painting his nails and singing and generally behaving in a much more feminine and emotionally available way than Izzy would prefer, Izzy threatens him to force him back into the hyper-masculine Blackbeard persona he knows Ed hates and Ed has said he wants to move past.

Goads Ed into violent behavior and is delighted when Ed is visibly upset. When Ed chokes Izzy, Izzy is laughing and grinning and generally having a very nice time while Ed's standing there with tears in his eyes and visibly terrified. He's very happy to have gotten the reaction he was trying to provoke and doesn't care about Ed's feelings.

So, take it all together, and we can see that Izzy has created an atmosphere where he has put himself in control of Ed and has further manipulated the crew so they look to Izzy as a filter for Ed's behavior so Izzy can completely control the narrative. When he thinks he's losing control of Ed, that's when Izzy tries to get Stede killed, without regard for Ed's emotions. Izzy consistently insults Ed, ignores his desires and feelings, and prioritizes his control over Ed's feelings.

Have I missed anything?

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy critical #i don't really think this is izzy critical at all because i'm just talking about the character's canon actions in the text of the show #but tagging it anyway. just in case. sigh

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

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Celebrate (Marc Spector x fem!Reader, Steven Grant x fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So, I have had this done for a while and just never posted, so better late than never, amirite? And besides, we can all always use more Oscar Isaac and the Moon Boys in our lives. Enjoy! :)

Summary: The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

Warning: Fluff (established couple with all the Moon Boys, super sweet affection, kisses, a very important question), angst (negative emotions about birthdays), implied smut

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 3,348

Steven, Marc, and Jake love you. They loves everything about you, from how you talk, to how you have a ‘lucky’ something for every category of item you own, to how big your heart is. But there is one thing about you that particularly irks them.

In the year and a half that you have been together with them, they has yet to find out when your birthday is. For all they knows, they could have missed it twice! Hell, you’ve remembered theirs twice and have done incredibly loving things for both.

They have tried everything—Steven even tried to sneak a peak at your license once, but turned out to be in a different wallet. Steven only knew his lack of knowledge wasn’t by virtue of him not trying extremely hard, because Marc and Jake couldn’t find out either.

Jake enjoyed playing around with the fantasy that you were a secret spy or assassin who stepped away from the action to lead a normal, quiet life. Steven and Marc were ready to quickly dismiss it when they remembered that they served as an avatar for the Egyptian God of the moon. In all honesty, there was a chance that Jake could be right.

“Did you know that in Ancient Egypt, Pharaohs didn’t celebrate birthdays on the actual day?” Steven asks as he hands you a dish from the suds. “They celebrated their coronation day since it was when they were born into the role of ruler.”

“Interesting,” you respond as you use the towel to dry the plate.

“It’s a bit sad, though, innit? That other people didn’t celebrate their birthdays. It wasn’t a common thing.”

“Well, I mean, I guess people make a big deal out of birthdays and place a lot of pressure on them. Maybe the Egyptians had it right.”

“But it’s an important day, you know? Someone fantastic was brought to the world, that’s worth celebratin’.”

You have a feeling you know what he’s getting at. You choose to remain quiet.

“You’re worth celebratin’, (Y/N).”

You feel tears sting at your eyes, and you suck in your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying.

“Why haven’t you told us when your birthday is?” he pleads softly.

You dip your head and shrug. “My birthday . . . I don’t know,” you mutter. “I have a lot of mixed feelings about it, and I don’t know how to say them without sounding whiny.”

Steven tilts your chin up with a sudsy finger so your eyes lock onto his.

“We’re all ears,” he says tenderly.

You let out a sigh, but Steven’s finger refuses to let your gaze leave his.

“No matter how old I got or whatever new friends I made, my friends and colleagues and even my exes always forgot my birthday. I always made it a point to remember theirs, get a gift, a card, whatever, because—it’s the friggin’ day they’re born! And then I always had these small, wistful expectations there’d be something done for me like a surprise, but it was always nothing. Once I got into my college years, I’d have these hopes and expectations of what I’d have done by that birthday, and most of them never came true. My ‘have a first kiss’ goal was deferred for eight years until I was 25.” You close your eyes and give your head a little shake. “I’m just always disappointed by my birthday with other people and myself. Never a real reason to celebrate.”

Steven dries his hands and wipes away yours tears with the pads of his thumb as he pulls you in for a loving hug.

“Will you tell us when your birthday is, love?” Steven whispers into your hair. “Please?”

Unable to resist his tender embrace, you tell him the date, and he pulls back to scan your face. “That’s Thursday,” he states.

“Yeah,” you nod. “It is.”

You don’t expect him to cradle your face in his hands while he kisses you deeply. “Boy, do we have some idea’s stewin’ in our brain,” he beams as he gives you another kiss. “And you know what? Since I missed it last year, you’re gonna have a half-birthday celebration that is gonna knock your knickers right off of you.”

“My knickers?” you laugh, your hurt feelings quickly leaving your body.

Steven whistles and moves his hand like a plane to emphasize the absolute absence of panties you’ll have before he hops up and rubs his hands together in excitement.

“Oh,” he says as he holds up a finger. “This is why we couldn’t figure out your birthday, right? You’re not secretly a spy or assassin?”

You laugh at the implication, the sadness rolling off of your body. “Jake’s idea?”

Steven nods.

“Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. And then there’s the issue of getting rid of the body, and we’re on the fifth floor—.”

“See, I know you’re jokin’, but part of me is actually a little spooked right now,” Steven says.

“No, hon. I’m not a spy,” you giggle, moving to kiss his cheek and push his curly hair back. “Sorry to disappoint Jake.”

Steven breathes a sigh of relief and dips his head as you hold onto him. "Oh, thank the gods!"

You’re vaguely aware of the shifting on your mattress as you continue to enjoy a cozy slumber under the comforter with your head on the pillows. After a bit, you feel another shift on the mattress along with the warmth of another body whose smell you know all too well.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Steven whispers with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You let out a tired moan as you roll into Steven’s body, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying your face into his chest as you try to pull yourself back into a deep sleep.

“Come now, I’ve made you your favorite. And I have a nice big mugga mornin’ Joe with your name on it,” he encourages.

You unbury your head slightly, looking up at him with still heavy eyes. He smiles as he looks down at you, kissing your forehead.

“I knew if the kisses didn’t do it, the coffee would,” he chuckles.

As you sit up in bed, Steven twists his torso and places a breakfast tray on your lap, presenting you with waffles, fresh cut fruit, and veggie sausage.

“Thank you, hon,” you tell him, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Anythin’ for the birthday girl,” he hums, placing a kiss on your neck that sends goosebumps throughout your body. “I still wish you could’ve taken the day off.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have these big meetings, I’d probably just stay in bed with you three.”

“Don’t give Jake any ideas—he’d find a way to make those meetings cancelled,” Steven chuckles, stealing a strawberry for himself. You know there’s nothing particularly aphrodisic or phallic about a strawberry, but watching Steven’s lips move around the red fruit and how his tongue licks away the juice sends your head spinning. Steven catches you looking at him and smirks. “Yes, love?”

“Oh, nothing,” you blush as you move to take a bite of the waffles in front of you.

“Mm, likely story,” he hums as he licks his lips once more, bringing his lips to your pulse point for a chaste kiss.

“I don’t know that I’m gonna be able to finish these, hon,” you chuckle as you take a closer look at the stack. “You made eight?”

“I’ve seen you devour a stack of waffles with no issue before.”

“Yeah, on a weekend where I don’t have to go do a full day of work later.”

“Then lucky for you, I am here to help,” he smiles, stealing your fork to snatch a bite of waffles for himself. “Bloody hell, I’m a good cook.”

We continue to sit in bed and eat the fluffy breakfast food until you have to get ready for work. As you fix your hair in the bathroom, Steven takes care of the dishes; he finishes drying them as you move from the bathroom to put on your clothes. As you slide on your sweater, Steven shuffles into the bedroom.

“Let me walk you to work today?” he whispers as he lifts out the hair tucked into the collar of your sweater.

“I want to say yes, but then I wouldn’t want to go in or have you leave,” you respond just as quietly. “Especially after a morning like this one. It’d be the bed predicament on the sidewalk.”

Steven brings his lips to yours slowly as you wrap your arms around his waist. The kiss is tender and lazy, much like how you wish you could spend the day with one another. Steven lets out a defeated sigh as his lips part from yours, resting his forehead against yours.

“Text me when you get there?” he asks as his fingers play with your hair.

“Of course,” you tell him. "Love you."

Steven hands you your purse, letting you adjust it on your shoulder before he places more quick kisses on your lips, murmuring a "Love you more," as you attempt to make it out the door.

“What?” you chuckle as you put your purse on the table by the door. Jake is leaning on the kitchen table like a puppy that needs to be let out.

“I can’t wait for my girlfriend to do part two of her birthday?” Jake smirks as he suavely moves over from the wooden surface and meets you at the door, his hands on your waist as he plants a passionate kiss on your lips.

“And what would part two be, exactly?” you smile as you bite your lip, keeping them just out of reach of his so you don’t spend the rest of the night making out in the kitchen—although, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

“I can’t give away all of the details, mi corazón. Now, go to the bedroom, put on what’s laid out, and then we’ll go to part two.”

You smirk at him and scrunch your eyebrows playfully as you try to figure out what he has planned. You do as he asks, nonetheless. Lying on the bed, you see a beautiful sky blue satin dress with an asymmetrical hemline and silver strappy heels. You slide on the dress and it fits like a glove—so much like a glove, you can see the line of your underwear underneath the fabric. Lightly chuckling to myself, you slide off your panties and take off your bra. Usually, you’d be opposed to going full commando, but when you see yourself in the mirror, everything looks better—the dress was made to be worn on your body without undergarments. You slide on the heels to finish off the look and quickly comb your hair to revitalize it from the day. When you meet Jake back in the living room, he licks his lips and smirks as he looks at you, giving you bedroom eyes as you move closer to him.

“Now will you tell me what we’re doing?” you coo as you run your hands up and down his chest.

“No,” he smiles as he pulls you in for a searing kiss, squeezing your ass for scientific reasons, you’re sure.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath this, are you?” he breathes against your lips.

“Not a stitch,” you hum as you move his hands off your rear, taking a step back and opening the door with your things in hand. “Lead the way, Lockley.”

He gives you a bedroom smirk and mutters a string of Spanish curses and erotic notions under his breath—something about not realizing how sexy you’d look and what he’d rather be doing to you.

“Don’t worry, babe, I think all of you boys will be able to do those kinds of things later,” you assure him as you pull him down by his tie for a kiss. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not when vice looks as good as you in satin.”

Jake captures your lips in a passionate and lusty kiss that still maintains an air of chastity to it—his mind on the mission of the surprise, but his heart veering towards your shared bed.

“Come on, cariño,” he rasps as he takes your hand and leads you out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“I don’t even get a hint?” you try again as you walk along the sidewalk.

“Tell me what you think we’re doing.”

“Really? Twenty questions on my birthday?”

“Play along,” he chuckles.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically as you lace your fingers with his. “It’s definitely somewhere fancy?”

“Is it, though?”

“I’m dressed to the nines. I don’t see how it can’t be somewhere fancy.”

“Or I wanted to show you off.”

“Okay,” you say, processing Jake’s cheeky remark, thinking of all the possibilities. “Well, dinner would be too obvious, so it clearly can’t be that.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “Come on, cariño, I thought you knew me better than this.”

“Ouch, gut punch!” you say, poking at it side. “I’m still thinking. You are an expert at being sneaky, I’m trying to process my options.”

“Well, you should come up with one soon. We’re almost there.”

Knowing the area, you scan through all the storefronts you can bring to your mind, when something clicks with your ensemble.

“Jake Lockley, are you taking me dancing?” you hum as you look over to him, his eyes sparkling in the dim London light.

“It took you long enough to figure it out,” he chuckles as he guides you to the left into a little courtyard that is all done up where other couples are waiting to start the lessons. “We’re gonna put those hips of yours to a different kind of work. Just for a short while, at least.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything fun or culinary up my sleeves,” Marc says as the two of you walk hand in and through the quiet park, the path lit by beautiful old street lamps.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” you tell him. “I know how much effort you all put into today. It’s nice to wrap it all up with dinner and a little stroll.”

A gentle breeze begins to pick up, and Marc immediately shrugs off his bomber jacket to place on your shoulders. You want to protest, but you love having things that he wears on your body—the warmth form his frame, the smell of his skin and cologne, the silent gesture of love.

“Thanks, baby,” you tell him softly as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Did you have a good day today?” he asks, matching your tone. “I know you mentioned your meetings—.”

“Yeah, the meetings from hell,” you sigh as you roll your neck, the mere thought of them bringing tension to your body. “Not only could they all have been emails, but they were ridiculously long and were so unproductive that we knew less by the end than we did at the start. Debbie led both.”

“Oh no, not Debbie.”

“Mmhm. Don’t get me started with that one.” You let out a long sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “But it’s all worth it, because I get to come home to an amazing system of men who love me.”

He rests his cheek on top of your head. “We love you, too, baby.”

“How about we go home and take a bath? Wind down from the day. Get naked and wet together.”

“Mm, two of my favorite adjectives.”

“Maybe we can add some other adjectives you like to that mix,” you chuckle, lightly checking his hip with yours.

Taking a turn off the path of the park, you hop on the sidewalk and make the short walk back to the flat, snuggling close in the old elevator as it drags its way up to the top floor.

“You want me to put on a kettle for tea or coffee or something?” you hum as you unlock the door, tossing your keys into the dish as you make your way in. “Or are we going to save all the warm water for—what are you doing?”

In your living room, Marc is perched down on one knee, a little open box in his hands as he looks up at me with his rich brown eyes.

“We were actually gonna do this next week,” Marc starts, his voice soft, the edges brimming with emotion. “But we thought this might be a really great way to end your birthday.”

“Baby . . .”

“(Y/N), I don’t think I need to begin to tell you how much we all love you. If I did, we’d be here for a hell of a long time, I’d loose feeling in my legs from the knee down, and you’d offer to help me walk over to the bed, just like how you are always there to help me and Steven and Jake with whatever comes up. You see us as whole people. You make us feel whole. You have the biggest, most caring heart that a person can have, and you love so selflessly . . .” Marc sniffles and furrows his brows as he tries to keep his cool. You take a few steps toward him, kneeling down and wiping his tears away with your thumbs.

“Marc,” you say softly, his name on your tongue dripping with emotions.

“We can’t imagine our lives without you in it, and we never want to,” Marc continues. “Will you marry us?”

“Of course,” you practically sob, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. He holds you back just as firm, neither of you saying a word. Marc is the one who eventually breaks the embrace, moving to take out the ring out of the box to slide it on your finger slowly.

“It’s a pink sapphire, but it looks purple, and you love purple—,” Marc starts.

“—and gold jewelry looks so lovely on your skin, cariño—,” Jake continues.

“—and it’s a vintage settin’ so there’s no ill-environmental effects,” Steven finishes. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“You guys are sure?” you sniffle, your teary eyes frantically scanning their faces. “Are you sure you guys love me? That this is what you want?”

“Mi corazón, where is this coming from?” Jake asks softly, brushing tears off of your cheek. “Of course this is what we want. We’ve never felt this way about anyone before. We only want you, amore.”

“It just doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream.”

“It’s very real, love,” Steven says, gentle hands on your shoulders as he leans forward to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And you already said yes—there’s no take-backs.”

You let out a wet laugh as you move back in to kiss Steven—he always knows just what to say to bring a smile to your face.

“Well, I guess if there’s no take backs.”

As Steven leans forward to kiss you again, and you feel distinct shift just before we part, and you’re met once more with Marc.

“Is it still a yes?” he asks carefully.

“Of course it’s still a yes. I’ve got the three best guys in the world—why wouldn’t I want to make it official?”

Marc smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen in your life. He leans forward to kiss you once more, his arms wrapping around you tightly and picks you up, much to your surprise. The two of you continue to kiss as he walks you to the bed and lays you down on the mattress, only briefly parting from you to brush some stray hairs off of your face.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers, his forehead resting on yours, allowing you to feel his eyelashes brush your cheeks.

“I love you all so much,” you whisper. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Marc gingerly kisses the tip of your nose. “Forever and always.”

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starsstuddedsky · 11 months

Text

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol

tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol

Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much.

He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt.

“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you.

“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily.

“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway.

“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say.

“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him.

You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything.

So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted.

That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings.

“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him.

“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.”

“And why am I here?”

“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly.

“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?”

“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you.

You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.”

“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours.

“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one.

“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.”

“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road.

“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.”

“What is wrong with my taste in music?”

“No comment.”

“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine.

“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.”

You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe.

When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up.

“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you.

He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap.

The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway.

Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy.

After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child.

Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make.

“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door.

“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child.

You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child.

“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.”

You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?”

The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts.

“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you.

You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go.

He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time.

“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten.

“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.”

Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you.

“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper.

“I have self-control.”

“Wanna bet?”

Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are.

You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile.

“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying?

He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second.

“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.”

“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck.

The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?”

“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles.

You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness.

“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head.

“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible.

“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.”

You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.

Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again.

Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst.

You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most.

When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?”

He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?”

“Why did you let her think we are a couple?”

One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart.

Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.”

“Of what?”

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.”

Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?”

“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”

“Vernon.”

He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes.

“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.”

You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move?

Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know.

“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.”

Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?”

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say.

Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?”

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.”

You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory.

His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real.

A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing.

“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet.

“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again.

Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it.

It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile.

Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?”

“Always.”

The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it.

“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say.

His laughter bounces you. “No way.”

“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.”

“I'll stay strong.”

“What if I want a kitten?”

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.”

“Sucker.”

“Only for you.”

thank you for reading <3

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familyagrestefanblog · 11 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

These things matter.

DETAILS matter.

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

New and suspicious extremes MATTER.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ANYWAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Details, time skips and circumstances matter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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neptunes-sol-angel · 6 months

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Title says it all! Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for their corresponding message.

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Pile One

What Needs Protection?

You need to be more private about the things that you're trying to manifest and any spell-work that you do. If you're in tune with your psychic abilities, then I'm getting that any plans in store for you that your spiritual team sends you messages about, KEEP THEM TO YOURSELF. It seems like anything related to the occult that you practice, needs to be discreet when it comes to family members, friends, and what you post on the internet. Knowledge is meant to be shared, but some things reside in the occult for a reason, your gifts, relationship with spirituality and the divine, is not for everyone's eyes to see or for any and everyone that you believe to be trustworthy. Even though no one can mess up what's for you in the end, protection is still needed to prevent any unnecessary drama from others trying to bring obstacles your way.

What Needs Exposure?

I feel like a lot of you are actually new in your spiritual journey and are receiving intuitive downloads or seeing more signs that remind you of someone that's no longer living, but very close with when they were still alive. Whether you are new or a little bit more seasoned in this journey there's this message to move inward in this path, some of you could still be on the superficial side of spiritualism which could be insulting to some of your guides because it's giving off the impression that you're in it for the aesthetic when there's an actual calling for you to partake in. There's a need to be more trustful with with your guides (god(s), ancestors, angels, etc) and to communicate with them more, as well leaving offerings for them. It's very important to build a connection with them instead of just leaping in with them to ask them for guidance and assistance for rituals.

Pile Two

What Needs Protection?

You need to be more protective over your time and energy! You know that quote "givers need to learn boundaries, because takers don't have any"? That's exactly the message that I'm picking up for this pile. There are attributes that you have that remind me of the sun, you're resourceful, regenerative, you create your own energy and produce your own light effortlessly that makes others gravitate towards you, but you must be careful with burning yourself out sooner with the way you're not limiting yourself on how much you give. People could rely on you for direction, money, emotional support, or even insight that they plan to take all the credit for. I'm sensing mainly that if you guys are creatives, keep your ideas to yourself, do not tell what you plan to create unless it is finished. Another is that some of you need to have more credence, you give away your visions and ideas because you don't believe you're capable of executing them yourself and you need to stop shortchanging yourself like that. I notice you guys keep saying "no" to yourself a lot on the things that could benefit you, try working on exerting that no onto the people that you should set boundaries with, especially if there's someone that you've been having a bad feeling about for awhile.

What Needs Exposure?

People in this pile have a story that needs to be shared. Whether it's autobiographical or fictional, there's something very personal that you've worked hard on in your life that needs to be public. Maybe you've triumphed over situations that would have broken other people, and the experience and wisdom that you've gained from this could inspire others who are going through situations that they feel that they won't make it out of. You may downplay what you've persevered because you it's something that you've adapted to, but what you may view as easy, can show people that when they encounter a big mountain, they don't need to be intimidated by the thought of how they're going to get over it, they just need to go around it.

Pile Three

What Needs Protection?

You're sitting on some tea that needs to be kept to yourself. Someone or a group of people could be trying to involve you in some mess, but you need to know that that drama has nothing to do with and that you need to stay out of it. Don't give in to the peer pressure of joining cliques, because that bond together out of gossiping about others, will not have long until they're turning on each other and you. If there isn't any drama that's going on, then there's a message for people in the pile who are going through a phase of wanting to impress others or do things for a person or a group who are either high in status or something else that you'd like you to be a part of. Your self esteem and individuality needs protection, do not place everybody on a pedestal or put so much of your faith into regular people. You may see yourself as the diamond in the rough thinking that you need someone or something to give yourself meaning, but that's the quickest way to fall into manipulation and a spiral of confusion about who you are.

What Needs Exposure?

Your ability to stand on your own needs more exposure. Maybe you have a parent or someone in your work/school environment that's underestimating you by believing that you're codependent and incapable of having a mind of your own with a backbone to follow it, but you gotta show these people better than you can tell them, that you're not someone to push around or someone to discredit when it comes to your accolades and the things that you've worked hard for. Maybe some of you are hesitant to make a certain move that involves parting ways with someone who's toxic towards you, but you have to acknowledge that you've lived a life before them and that you are safe and strong enough to create a life without them. And once you do, I feel like there's this boost of prosperity, positive attention, or a period of luck that you may experience as a confirmation that these people are not the reason for your success, you're blessed because you are, not because they were in your life, especially if they were creating blockages in your money and opportunities.

#divination #intuitive #psychic #pick a card #tarot #spirituality #pac #tarotblr #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card reading #Spotify

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sokkastyles · 11 days

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I read that post you reblogged about Katara using bloodbending to heal Zuko during the final Agni Kai, and honestly I would have loved it if that happened too. I've mentioned before in a previous ask that I wish bloodbending had been explored more in the narrative, especially Katara's complicated feelings about bloodbending. This is going to sound a bit morbid, but I'm kind of wondering if, after the encounter with Hama, do you think Katara would be kind of hyperaware of the water flowing throughout her own body or anyone else's? Would she feel tempted to try bloodbending again? Even though the first time she had to do so was to prevent Aang and Sokka from hurting each other, so she bloodbent Hama, and she found the whole thing disturbing, there's a part of me that wonders if Katara would still have a bit of morbid curiosity about bloodbending anyways. I know this sounds like I want Katara's character to be a bit darker, but what I really want is for Katara to be allowed to have these thoughts or this type of curiosity without her being made to feel like she's a bad person for it. Idk if any of this made that much sense, but I'm curious to know, what are your thoughts?

Katara unconsciously being hyper aware of the water around her and in other people's bodies after Hama is something that has made itself into my fics. Because bending is depicted in atla as part of who the person is, and I think keeping a bender from bending is like keeping someone from being allowed to move their arms and legs.

And once Katara knows this ability exists, not just bloodbending but everything Hama taught her that goes with it, like how to find the water in everything, she will find it impossible to not have this completely alter her bending and how she sees the world.

And, like with firebending, it's not the bending itself that is bad, it's what you do with it.

I love zutara fics that include bloodbending, not just the dark ones, but something I've explored a little in my fics is how it makes her more aware of Zuko's body and heightens her physical connection with him.

Bloodbending can work as a metaphor for consent, because it's not that it's inherently evil to have that kind of knowledge of another person's body, but it's about consent and trust. I see no reason why bloodbending can't be used to heal the same way that medical knowledge can be used both to heal or to kill and torture. (I'm thinking of that particular analogy because I'm reading Gene Wolfe's Shadow of the Torturer currently).

Like, I get that the show writers were trying to add complexity by showing the dark side of waterbending with Hama, but the thing is that while waterbending was always portrayed as good before, it was also portrayed in a very limited way. Katara is the last waterbender of her tribe, who had to learn on her own. "Some waterbending is bad, actually," isn't really a lesson she needed to learn, especially not from the only teacher she's ever had who can actually tell her about her own heritage. The unintended message is that Katara exploring a culture heritage that has been denied to her through war is bad, and it actually ends up limiting things instead of making them more complex. It's also another weird way the show dichotomizes combat waterbending and healing. Despite Katara gaining Pakku's respect, she is still getting the message from things like the Hama episode that using her bending for combat and not healing is wrong. The obvious solution is to make waterbending healing a form of bloodbending, and now that Netflix has made healing an actual learned bending form instead of something Katara is naturally good at, I have hope that this connection might actually be made. And this is a win win, because making healing a form of bloodbending actually achieves the complexity the original show was going for.

#katara #bloodbending #zutara

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just-wrting · 1 year

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Perhaps a Little Jealous

Title: Perhaps a Little Jealous

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Read

Summary: After gifting Hotch a new sweater, you use it to your advantage to keep other women away. Unfortunately, this doesn’t go unnoticed.

Word Count: 1817

Master List

A/N: My first actual post in forever and it’s not Supernatural. I think having to keep this blog Supernatural related got to me and I just kinda neglected it. I think opening up requests for a multitude of fandoms will help my creativity! Anyway, enjoy some of my current obsession: Criminal Minds’ Aaron Hotchner!

Part 2

Knocking on Hotch’s office door, you smooth out your shirt. Granted, you didn’t have to give Hotch a gift, but you feel obligated to give him something. He had prevented you from getting injured, or worse killed. So in an effort to say thanks, you had gotten him a gift.

“Yes?”

Hotch’s office door swings open and you look at him sheepishly. “I wanted to give you a gift. To say thanks for saving me on the last case. Can I come in?”

Hotch steps aside to let you in. You make your way over to his desk and stand next to the guest chair. You can’t bear to face him due to your face being so red. You know why you are nervous. You just don’t want to admit it.

“You got me a gift? For doing my job?” Hotch makes his way to his desk. “I don’t think this is necessary.”

You glance up to look into his eyes before looking away. You had magically found an excuse to give him a gift, but you are scared to tell him the real reason. You are giving him a gift cause it was a way that you showed you loved someone. Well in this case have feelings for.

“I think it's just a nice thing to do.” You are quick to answer. “You’ve done so much for me since I started at the BAU and not to mention you did save me on the last case.”

Hotch looks like he might ask more, but he graciously holds his hand out for the gift instead. “(Y/N), you’re a member of the team. I was just doing what I would do for any of the others.”

Your heart sinks a little. Of course, Hotch would say something like that. At the end of the day, he is your boss. Hotch is someone you should never have developed feelings for. Yet here you are. Standing in his office, handing him a gift, and almost hoping that he would read into and figure you out.

“Still. It’s just something I like to do for people I care about or like. Like I gave Garcia some coupons I had found for a brand that matches her style.”

You watch as Hotch pulls the ribbon off of the gift. You are nervous. Your heart is pounding. If Hotch took one good look at you, you know that he would be able to pick you apart and say the words you were thinking.

“Coupons and a gift you went out and bought are two different things, (Y/N). Besides, this,” he pulls the sweater out of the box, “looks like it cost you more than some coupons.”

“Hotch, if it bothers you, I can take it back. I just thought that having something comfortable while on a case or that you can use to stay warm in the hotels would be nice. I’m sure I got your size right, but if I didn’t there is a gift receipt in the box.”

Hotch checks the tag and shakes out the sweater. You know it was his style, the quarter-zip, and his color, a wine red. You are almost one hundred percent sure that you had gotten his size, a large, though you’re sure that even if it isn’t the right size he’d still look good. The only thing you didn’t know was whether or not he would like it.

“This is,” Hotch pauses while feeling the material, “very soft. Where did you get this? Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, how much was it?” You give him a smile as someone knocks on the door. “Looks like J.J. was right. There’s always a new case almost right after the last.”

—

It’s the morning of the third day on this case and weirdly enough, you are starving. Normally you get up too late to actually grab breakfast or anything, but today you woke up right as the hotel started putting breakfast out.

Hotch had told you all to make sure you got enough rest last night and to be one hundred percent ready to tackle the case this morning. This meant that you were allowed to get almost eight hours of sleep, closer to seven but who was really counting, and you were allowed to have more than a cup of coffee and a stale muffin for breakfast.

Not only are you right on time, but you also are surprised to see Hotch standing in line for the coffee maker. The new quarter-zip looks very nice on him and you realize that you weren’t the only one who noticed. A pair of women sit at the window, eyeing him from over their teas.

“Hotch!” You speed up your steps. “You should've had me grab you breakfast.”

You step as close as you think you can without getting in his way. The zipper of his sweater going at a diagonal angle makes you want to laugh. Knowing how motivated he is to finish cases, you figure he probably stayed up late and slept in it.

“Your thing, uh zipper, it’s crooked. Here let me fix it for you. Did you end up sleeping in this?”

Your hand grasps the collar of the sweater and gently adjusts it. Smoothing out the fabric, you give Hotch a soft smile. You like that he was wearing the sweater you got him. You didn’t like the fact that other women seem like they wanted to flirt with him.

“You can tell that I didn’t follow my own orders, can’t you?” Hotch asks as he puts a lid on his coffee.

You giggle. “Oh yes. Though if you were up all night looking at the files maybe you magically found something new.”

He hands you your own coffee and walks you toward the ever-wonderful selection of the hotel buffet. “I did see a few things. They could mean nothing, but without a second opinion, I’m unsure. Do you mind if I join you for breakfast and share them?”

You stand there in shock. Is he asking you to have breakfast with him? Not just the whole team? Could it actually just be so he could tell you to not invade his personal space again?

“Uh yeah! My room is super close, J.J. got me the room closest to the front door so that way when I’m running late I’m faster. Is that fine?”

He gives you a quick nod before grabbing some toast. Thankfully he doesn’t leave your side, or make any comments, as you load up your plate. He doesn’t even complain when you toss both a yogurt and a muffin on his plate.

The two of you are silent as you walk what was probably only a minute to your room, but feels like ages to you. You are nervous, not only are you still in pajamas, not even like the ones on television you are wearing the silly cat meme shirt, but you are going to have Aaron Hotchner in your hotel room.

“Sorry about the mess. The only person who usually comes in, well besides the staff, is Emily or J.J. Sometimes Morgan if he thinks I need further teasing. If I’m not treating it like it’s my room I just can’t think right.”

Hotch makes no comment. He instead opts to pull the chair from the desk and offer it to you. You shake your head and pull out the stool. “Actually, I’ll let the boss sit in the fancy chair. I can use the footrest as a seat.”

Hotch lets out a chuckle as he sits down. “The probably cheap office chair is fancy to you?”

You lower the chunk of waffle from your face. “As fancy as a cheap office chair can be. What did you notice?”

Hotch folds his hands on the table. “You paused after saying my name in the lobby. Almost as if you regretted it or noticed something else. When you came up to me you stood closer than you usually did and took your time making sure I was presentable.”

Swallowing hard, you look into his eyes. “Oh. Is this what you meant by opinions to share?”

You think you see a smile on his face as he continues, “You made sure that you put extra food on my plate like you were looking out for me. All of this would leave an impression on others that we’re close. And given the fact that hotels are usually couples or families on vacation this impression would be that we are together.”

You rub your arm and look away. Who said he could look so handsome while profiling your feelings? Just cause he was good at his job doesn’t mean you wanted to be the target.

“You saw the same women sitting near the window that I did, didn’t you? What made you give them the wrong impression?”

You know if you looked at him you’d give everything away even if you lied. “There’s no need for women to be taking up your time. We are on a case. Just because you won’t entertain them, doesn’t mean they won't waste time.”

“You’re very easy to read. When you feel like you can’t control your emotions, you look away. So I know that you’re hiding something or you’re lying to me.”

You know your face is red. You can’t do anything about that. Instead, you turn and face Hotch.

“The team can’t have women taking up time that could be spent working the case.”

Hotch’s smile wavers. “I know you’re lying to me. If that was truly the reason, your face wouldn’t be so flushed. Would you like to know what I think?”

You lick your lips and nod. “If you think you can read me that well then go ahead Hotch. Surprise me.”

This time he leans in. You would worry about the food and coffee spilling but you can’t focus that well with Hotch’s face only a foot away from yours.

“I think that you saw those women watching me and got jealous. Perhaps you got just a little bit,” he pauses and you know the word he’s thinking of, “possessive? You wanted to scare them off and make them think I was taken.”

“What would you do if that was the reason?” You hold your breath. “Would you tell me off?”

Glancing at the clock behind you, Hotch gives a smile. He stands up and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Perhaps after the case is over we can go and get breakfast. Someplace that isn’t your hotel room. Let me know if that works for you, (Y/N).”

With that, Hotch leaves your room. You’re a flustered mess due to his teasing. You never even knew that Hotch could tease. Your ear still feels warm from where he whispered and you do your best to calm down.

#criminal minds #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch #criminal minds aaron hotch #aaron hotch fluff #im back baby #reader insert #criminal minds x reader

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dancingbabya-notes · 7 months

Text

Quirk malfunctions

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As anyone else might say sometimes your quirk doesn’t always work the way you intend it unless you train it rigorously, even then sometimes your quirk can mess up or even activate subconsciously.

Characters: Bakugo Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Shoji Mezo, Aizawa Shouta, Yagi Toshinori

A/N: I'm finally writing something after fighting with my computer for several months and posting it. I will not be disappearing into the oblivion I will be writing whether my brain likes it or not.

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Bakugo

As a new hero you needed to be ready to jump into action at a single call. But as you check your phone again you grumble. “I’m taking a nap someone will call if they need me.”

Though the idea of sleeping on concrete wasn’t entirely appealing you were glad for the pseudo cape on your uniform. Closing your eyes happily under the warmth of the sun, even if it was killing you slowly.

While you slept someone who was actually working happened to land on the roof of the building you were sleeping on, which was just the roof of your apartment. Upon seeing your uniform and you just dozing away Dynamight frowned.

“The hell? Is this the new hero that joined, lazy fucker,” he grumbles to himself before turning to you, unbeknownst to him though your quirk was already active.

As soon as he walked closer the watery tendril wrapped about his hands preventing him from using his quirk, then over his mouth to keep him from waking you up. That would have all good and well if some of the water didn’t brush against your skin sending a chill up your spine and waking you up.

Rubbing your eyes and seeing the glaring red ones you quickly pulled the water away. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Picking up your phone you frown at the message. Dynamight was about to chastise you for falling a sleep on the job when you turned off your visor and walked to the door.

“My apologies senpai it seems I’ve been given a mandatory holiday, have a good rest of your day,” You give a slight bow before walking through the door back into the apartment building. “How fucking fun, let me just almost suffocate my big brother’s best friend. Way to go Y/N!”

Kaminari

Your big brother had been born quirk-less and seemed to acquire a quirk seemingly over night before entering high school, while you had both your parents quirks. Fire breath and attraction of small objects. This was probably the most important thing about you that anyone learned, because that would explain why sometimes you simply looked like a dragon no matter the season because you seemed to be breathing smoke.

“What are you doing?” someone asks in what had been a silent workshop.

“I was trying to fix this,” you frown as the item you had been working on fell onto the open table, with a lot of training you were able to hold things in mid air and hold multiple things at once. “Did you need something?”

Kaminari was someone you only recognized because he was in your brother’s class back in high school. “I uh was just checking if my disk shooters were fixed.”

“Uh well that's not my task so I dunno, you’ll probably need to talk to Ogiwara.” You could see his eyes going wide and you look up to see the hammer that had been on your tool belt floating above you. “Damn quirk.”

Jumping up a bit you pull it back down and frown.

“Sorry I guess I’m not as aware of it as I hoped I was, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Shoji

Because of your quirk needing eye contact you did any and everything to get a job where you didn’t need to make eye contact. Office jobs were a bust because your boss would demand it, restaurants were a bust because anyone could make eye contact with you and you wouldn’t know who the last person to look into your eyes was, ultimately you ended up with one of the worst jobs ever according to you brother, at home desk work.

Standing up from your floor desk your back was killing you, and from the warmth of the sunshine from your office window it was warm. “Maybe I could go for a walk? I’m ahead on work.”

Mumbling this you give your puppy a smile as you stand up.

“Hey baby, are you ready for your morning walk?” You ask just as you get dressed in proper outside clothes, the number of times your neighbors have accidentally seen you in your skivvies was far more than you wanted to admit.

The shiba you’d affectionately named Sho –after your big brother, who wasn’t dead he simply pretended not to like dogs– rubs up against your our reached hands giving soft barks in confirmation.

“Let me check how hot it is, we wouldn’t want you to get ouchies,” you giggle.

Waiting inside your apartment Sho watches as you walk to the sun heated ground touching it with the back of your hand. It wasn’t hot and you could walk around if you wanted to.

“Alright, come here baby!” You beam.

Sho already holding his leash rushes up to you closing the door, you smile clipping on the leash before going to lock your door. Just as you do you happen to hear your neighbor leaving his apartment too, you met him when you were in high school a student your brother taught, but now he was just your next door neighbor.

Sho pulls you along excitedly nearly causing you to crash into said person. “Sho heal.”

Just barely you catch yourself before you slam into the solid person next to you, giving a weak smile with your eyes closed you turn your head up a bit. “Sorry about almost running you over.”

“It’s fine y/n.”

Looking back to your dog you sigh. “Hope I’ll see you around.”

“Like wise.”

Though you did chance a little look, sometimes you could just barely look at someone and avoid activating your quirk.

That wasn’t the case because while Sho and you sat at a bench to get some shade you feel asleep. Finding yourself looking through someone else’s mind.

“Fuck.” You mumble trying to figure out if there was a way that you could wake up.

Waiting waiting for Sho to start scratching at you to wake up thought he probably wouldn’t do that, you’d probably have to wash your face when you got home cause he’ll lick you awake. Seeing through Shoji’s mind was different. You knew he was a hero, you just didn’t know he patrolled so close to your apartments.

Returning to your own body you blink a bit.

“This isn’t a very safe place to be sleeping,” he chuckles. “But it seems you have a good companion who’s worried about you.”

Looking down you reach to hug Sho. “I’m sorry baby, let’s go home. Thanks for waking me up.”

He nods giving a slight wave.

Shinso

Understanding any creature that had competent thoughts had its moments. It was basically a cheat skill to you, understanding your fur babies without having to spend thirty minutes arguing with them like your siblings. Milk and Tea sat on your stomach and chest respectively, both being adorable and restrictive to your breathing. “I’d like some space please, can you both sit on my legs instead?” You mumble. You receive two no’s. The thing was your quirk also worked on humans you simply never used it on them. “I gotta go buy food come on!” You urge. They both look at you like they thought you were lying. “It’s good for you.” Both cats jump off you and prance away like the spoiled brats they were. Giving you a moment to both use the restroom and grab your things to go run to the store and buy all that food. “Kitten?” You were so focused on tying your shoe properly that you failed to notice your boyfriend come inside. Shinso stood behind you while you tried to tie his shoes onto your feet, which didn’t work because you both had different shoe sizes. Thinking you heard something you were about to shoo away the cats because you knew it’d be a thirty minute chase if one of those pampered brats got outside. Only to hear. ‘Damn I doubt they’d notice if I poked them.’ More alert but unbalanced you try to move away from your brat of a boyfriend only to tip forward into the door. His eyes lock with yours as he shouts. “Wait!” “What?” Luckily you didn’t hit the door but not you were practically a rag doll into his hold. You hated when this happened. Once righted and able to stand you push him back. “Fuck you, Toshi, I was trying to tie my…” you look down finally realizing whose shoes you were wearing. “Why’d you move my shoes?” “I was tired, it was just on the same shelf.” He shrugs. “You good, Kitten?” “Mm, I’m fine. Also no poking,” you switch the shoes getting ready again. “You read my mind?” “I thought it was the cats.” “You always think it’s the cats.” You frown. “Fine the next time that the Sgt Fluff ball gets out again you’ll be the one to chase him.” “I- You wave with a smile. “I’m off to buy some cat food and dinner. You better tell me what you wanna eat.” You didn’t miss the threatening thoughts from just outside your door swinging it open forcefully. “Oops my bad.”

Aizawa

You were very excited to be working with other heroes your own age for once, not that weren’t thankful for your mentors you just felt like you were learning the same thing over and over from the older pro heroes. At sixteen you dropped out of school and found a hero to intern under, with the concentrated crime rate in your city instead of simply learning how to learn how to be a hero you were basically already a hero the only useful thing you learned was how to cause the least amount of property damage so you could have enough money to support yourself and your little brother. Now you were going to Japan to learn more about being a hero, your agency pretty much forced everyone to visit other countries in a sort of exchange program. But standing in front of other twenty somethings you felt like you’re mind was gonna a short circuit.

“H-hello name hero eh, I mean my hero name is Whiplash. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you, Gracious has nothing but nice things to say about Japan heroes,” You keep your head down embarrassed from the messy introduction.

You could just feel someone staring down your neck before you stood back up, then again you wore a full mask for your protection. “Your form said you already have six years experience on the field…”

Giving a little nod you look at the ground again. “Um while it’d be awesome if stars and stripes could be anywhere there is a problem there are some cities that ave atrocious crime rates.” Not wanting to talk about it again you smile. “I’m curious what hero schools are like though, I heard y’all get direct teaching from some of the best heroes.”

“They’re the same as hero schools in America right?” one young man frowns keeping his face covered with the scarf.

“Eh, I’ve visited the one in my state and that’s only true if you’re lucky enough to get a school with a ton of funding. The schools aren’t government funded they’re funded at a city or state level if anything and any school is lucky enough to get enough funding to keep up with the new regulations every year,” you shrug thinking a little bit about that small experience, you felt a bit angry just thinking about the state of the schools and how people had been treated.

“Whip.”

Blinking a bit you felt the blood drain from your face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It happens sometimes.”

You hadn’t realized you activated your quirk resulting in a small garden growing in the lobby.

“Well the lobby did look a little gray, I’m Eraser Head.” The young man holds his hand to you and you shake it.

“I can pick up the plants but I’ll use my next pay to fix the ground.” you mumble.

He shrugs. “I doubt they’ll know how to fix it.”

Yagi

“It was a bad idea marrying a hero Yagi.” “Shut up.” “He’s what how many years older than you?” “Five? Is that so terrible?” Your so called best friend was scolding you again. For getting married, it wasn’t even because of who you married they just used that to try and make their point seem more valid. You just wanted to work on your throwing, not listen to them complain since they themselves wanted so be married but never found the right person. “Come on he’s got to lack something.” Splashing them with the water you were using to help you work the clay you frown. “Either you change the topic or you know where the exit is Cole.” “Seriously? You’re gonna pick him over me? I thought you were a good friend.” As you pull the piece and their tone starts to irk you you felt your blood burning. They pulled every little transgression that they thought was so terrible when they were all instances you couldn’t help. Feeling then clay slip you stop the wheel and glare. “Shut up and leave!” It came out harsher than you intended. “I hear this enough from my mother now from you?” As you turn away all you could do was shout. This broke then glass divider, your voice wasn’t quite as powerful as your little brother’s bit you always hit that frequency to break shit. Just then your husband walks into the studio. “Oh dear.” “I’ll just see myself out,” Cole states quickly grabbing her things and brushing past Toshinori. You stare at the broken glass in disbelief. “Fuck, fuck.” Curses pour from your mouth as you hit yourself, though your hands weren’t clean so you got slip and clay ill over your face and hair as tears fell. Before you can do any real damage large arms wrap around you. “My dear be careful, we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” “I messed up again,” you sniffle hiring your face into his shirt, why did he always wear white shirts? “Never fear I am here,” he whispers earring a slight chuckle through your sniffing. Hugging him back you frown mumbling into his chest. “What was that my love?” Pulling back a bit so could speak clearly you look up at him with a pout. “I think this time I need to install metal shelving.” “I believe that is the best course of action.” He rubs circles into your back as you bury your face into his chest again. “Guess what?” “What?” “My baby brother got into Yuuei.” “That’s wonderful my love should we send him a gift of congratulations?” You shake your head. “My mom will just throw it away. I’ll give him some spending money and take him the dinner the next time I’m in Musutafu.” Yagi Toshinori or more well know to the public as All might could be a kind man and gentle to his spouse. Not that any one knew he was married.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #kaminari x y/n #kaminari x reader #kaminari x you #shoji mezo x reader #shoji x reader #shinso x y/n #shinsou x you #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa x reader #yagi x reader #toshinori x y/n

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