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j4ygyu · 2 days

Text

confessing to his mute crush | pjs

pairing: jay x deaf!reader

genre: complete fluff

summary: jay and deaf reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failer the reader does something surprising.

“i. hope. i. am. not. late” jay signed and chuckled as he fixed his cross body bag standing nervously infront of you which got out of place while he was running to the stop you had asked him to be at.

you smile at him, knowing he recently had learned sign language just to be able to communicate with you and so he was, a little slow and not so clear.

you loved cycling alot, and bought this brand new bicycle and you had asked him if he wanted to spend a day out riding it and then go off to the beach and sit there.

jay and you met through the same animal care shelter you guys volunteered to work at, his charming smile immediately caught your attention. however it was hard to communicate with your muteness, you only knowing sign language and him knowing none of it.

however within a span of few months, jay started learning it to be able to communicate with you.

it made your heart flutter, i mean it’s the effort and dedication. still you asked yourself ‘does he even like me back?’

“is. this. the. new. cycle. that. you. bought?”he asked as you nodded and got off it, you touched the cute basket decorated with a small miffy teddy and a pink bow, it also had the dirty wrapper of chocolate you ate earlier.

embarrassed, you took it out and threw it somewhere on the ground.

“i decorated it” you signed as he looked at you and smiled, making you blush as you looked away, anywhere but his eyes.

“예쁘다” he said, even though you obviously didn’t hear him you read his lips quickly anyways. signing a quick thank you you sit back on your cycle and signal him to sit.

he sits behind you hands on your shoulder as you begin to hit the pedal and ride around the city.

some moments later you feel jay’s hand shifting from your shoulder to your waist now that you’re cycling in a well pace.

the wind blows on your face blowing your hair back at his face too, you hit the break for a moment and turn around and give him an apologetic look.

he smiles at you taking your hair and putting them to one side of your shoulder and keeping his chin on the other, staring at you the entire time he does so.

you squirm and try to get used to the feeling of his charp chin on your shoulder as it’s digging through.

you shove the feeling off as you start riding again, this moment was really perfect for you, everything was so good. a nice cloudy, windy weather with your favorite person friend hugging you by the waist and face on your shoulder, what a dream really.

you guys rode the cycle around the city, stopping by a store to get ice cream, as you parked your cycle near the store you guys stood on the footpath and he bought some ice cream.

you looked at him to see if he finished his and you caught him staring at you, he pretended to look around and controlled his cheeky smile but then something else caught your attention wired headphones connected to his phone in his pocket.

you grab them and gain his attention as he looks back at you “you like music?” he nodded and took his phone put of the pocket searching for something.

curiously, you stared as you got closer to see his screen “this. is. my. favorite. song” he signed enthusiastically as you widen your eyes giving him a cheering gesture.

you stopped as you looked at him “i wish i could listen to it.. it must be nice” silence filled the space between both of you as you stared deep into you while smiling “it is.”both of you finished the ice cream before it melted.

after cycling and strolling around the pretty city here you were sitting on the rocks of the beach as the wind blew every once in a while.

jay had this thing forever in his mind, he loved you he loved you so damn much. everything you did got him screaming internally to wife him up.

“it’s fun being with you, you know?” you signed as jay felt his heart racing a million times in a second what could she mean by that? she probably meant as a friend right? or am i letting my stupid thoughts take over.

“thank. you.” he says as you close your eyes and give him the widest smile.

being with him made you feel full, it made you feel like finally you had a friend. but you quickly fell in love with him because of his mannerisms.

even though at school no one really bullied you, but there wasn’t something big for someone to findi you interesting. emptiness fill inside of you, as for others you were just there, not enough things to be interesting for someone. or atleast for the people around you. jay knew these very well that’s why he hated the fact he fell in love with you so fast and was worried that you might reject him because of how fast everything would happen.

but little did he know that your feelings were pretty.. mutual you can say.

there was a wooden stick in your hand with which you were doodling on the beach sand with, jay was observing each and every move.

with that lavender sundress you were wearing it made everything 10 times cuter in his eyes. the way the wind slightly blew back your hair but you kept on fixing it.

you started moving the stick and you wrote your name’s inital with did adding a unfilled heart after it and looked at jay “want to try?” you ask bringing the stick closer to him as he accepts it.

he looks at you for a second passing you a lovestruck look.

J +

he writes before your names inital as you shoot him a confusing look with a nervous smile.

he looks at you as his smile drops, emotions very visible in his eyes.

he adds an equals to sign between your inital and the unfilled heart, following with filling the unfill heart that you drew.

your smile drops as you stare back at him, completely in shock and he stares back with a regretful look in his eyes.

you watch him take a big breath after looking at your reaction, not quite promising is it.

“i. like. you.” you sit there, puzzled. you don’t know whether to do something or cry, the moment feels unreal.

it all felt so quick that you didn’t realise you haven’t responded to him yet for about past five minutes atleast.

his hopeful looks now dies as he apologizes and stands up, “i am sorry, i am sorry, sorry i should leave i should probably leave.” he says as you try to read his lips “sorry…. should leave” you could pick up some of the words not many because of how rapid and low his mouth worked.

you watch him stand up quickly wearing his bag not even sparing another glance at you as he starts walking away.

you felt your cheeks getting warm as everythinf starts getting blurry due to the upcoming tears.

you shake and get up dropping your own bag on the floor.

“stay”

did i say it right? you swore you heard the vibrations in your body of your own voice. not fully hearing what you said or if you said it right or no.

breathing heavily, jay stops in his tracks as he turns around and stares at you in disbelief as you break down. right on that spot you were standing at.

the word wasn’t clear and mix of broken and light cracks of course, a very weak one because of the vocal chords.

you felt bad for making him wait for so long or making his excitement go away for taking your no response as rejection.

you were just shocked, he actually liked you back? your entire life you felt so neglected and behind just because you were deaf, but now some thing good is finally.. happening?

now standing in a distance both of you staring at each other as he watches uncontrollable tears flow down your face as you sign a ‘i like you too.” while lowering your head and start sobbing.

jay runs back to you and closes the distance, both of you hug like losers.

because of the closeness you can feel his body vibrations and shivering, as you realise that he is crying you push him back to see his eyes now your eyes widened “why are you crying silly i should be the one crying..”

he just shrugs while trying to give you a smile and crying.

you bring your hands to wipe his tears off as you hold his face. his hands naturally rest on your waist.

for a short moment you guys look deep into each other’s eyes as you lean in signaling for a kiss.

you felt him giggling like a teenage boy as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours.

he could taste the strawberry ice cream you ate earlier on your lips, your scent filling his nostrils and working as a hypnosis.

you pull away taking a long breath, “wasn’t it too long for a first kiss?” you sign while wiping away your own tears now and laughing.

once again complete silence fills the beach as the only thing playing if only you could hear, was the sound of the waves. both of you completely lost in each other’s eyes, it was like your eyes are speaking it all for you.

but you noticed it, you noticed he was holding back a reply so you hit his chest “say it. say what you want to say.”

he broke the eye contact looking away at the sea, the waves coming and hitting the shore as his stupid smile came back on his face.

he looked back at you and fixed your hair, brought his hands back to himself and signed at you.

“i. could. kiss. you. for. an. eternity.”

#jay fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen #park jongseong #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enha #jongseong x reader #jay x reader #jay scenarios #jay enhypen #jongseong fluff #enhypen jongseong #park jay

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ribbonprincess · 3 days

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HIHIHI the same girlie who requested the sanrio moodboard, just a thought, imagine if rafe comes home and sees all the plushies just on the bed, staring at him, he'll for sure say something like "baby get-- get those things off the bed." and then stand over readers head demanding it. because yeah, the man can be mean like that, don't be that delusional, he's still rafe. 😭🎀

note:OMG,HI BABY! you need to become an emoji anon,for sure🤭🤭 hope you like it,angel🫶🏻

🍓࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

"they're staring at me,get them off the bed or something. They're creepy as shit" Rafe stands in front of the bed,his arms crossed over his chest as he glares at the army of plushies on your bed with a scowl "don't even get the point of having so many anyway..." you're stopping him before he can get his hands on them "hey! don't be mean...they're my babies and they're cute. I'm not taking them away from their post"

Your glossy lips are pulled into a pout,glaring at your boyfriend as you stand between him and the plushies almost as a barrier. "you think you're tough doll,think you can act like some sort of bodyguard and for what-- plushies?" You're Trying to push him away from the bed as much as possible,not trusting him that close to the fluffy animals and characters that are sitting on your plush bed. "I don't get it,you paid for so many of them! why don't you like them?" "cause..they're creepy and they're taking up space,they don't need to sit on the bed all the time it's not like they have emotions anyway"

One of your hands is splayed over your chest as you gasp,your expression full of hurt "why did you say that...they need to stay on the bed,they can't sit on the floor! it's cold and uncomfortable" "well guess what,they're fake and I'm human. So you either put them somewhere else or I'm taking them from you and throwing them out of the window" "okay okay! I'll put them somewhere else..Jesus" you huff as your boyfriend seems proud of himself,standing with a smirk in the corner of the room as he watches you put your plushies away. You don't even notice him flipping them off as you close the door of the closet "wasn't so hard babydoll,was it" "no...but still,that was mean rafey" "yeah yeh.. whatever" his lips press a sloppy kiss against the side of your head as he brings you into his chest "let me make it up to you,okay?"

#🎀princess #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks drabble #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader

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fantasyandshit · 1 day

Text

Replaced

Type:one shot

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Based off of this request

Hope this is heart breaking enough anon!

Trigger warnings- slight mention of ED behavior, torture, and implied violence

I stare out at the gardens, I used to think they were beautiful, I tended to them everyday, watered and checked all the plants, made sure the soil was perfect and they got the proper mix of shade and sunlight. I walked in them, sat on my bench under the giant cherry blossom tree and read my book. The gardens were always my space my place. I loved those gardens, always marveled at their beauty.

But not now. Now as I stare out at the gardens I’m disgusted by what I see, I hate the new flowers and the soil. I hate looking at it and I refuse to walk in it. I hate that my family simply gave my place to her. That Azriel gave it to her. That he sits out on my bench all cuddled up with her. Deep down I think that’s what disgusts me. Seeing him with her. No. Disgust isn’t the right word. It makes me sick, fills me with agony that spreads through my bones and boils in my blood. Sends jealousy spiking through my body like bolts of electricity.

When the middle Archeron had come into the family with her older sister- it was fine, everything was fine. My family was happy and although I always felt off about the female, I was civil. It was fine as my family turned to them, it was fine. They needed time and attention, like new animals. I let my family give them that. It was fine when I was asked to let her work in the gardens she ‘loved so much’. It was all fine.

It was all fine until they asked me to let her simply take over the gardens, ‘just so she can keep distracted and busy whilst adjusting’. It was fine till I came crying to Rhys about a vision I had, one of the first in nearly a month- I had seen something, I heard people screaming and blood everywhere, but ‘Elain hasn’t seen anything. It’s fine.’ It was fine till Azriel- my best friend for the last 500 years, the male I harbored feelings for. The male I loved for at least 450 years, turned to her. It was fine till she became all consuming. It was fine till ‘Elain needs me Yn.’ ‘Yn I have to go- Elain needs me right now. You know this is hard for her.’ ‘ Yn, stop being selfish- Elain needs me.’

It was fine till she became all consuming. Till no one listened to me, till Azriel- my mate, the man I loved with all my soul, left me for her. Turned a cold shoulder and left me. Till my family soon wrapped around the sisters and I lost them all.

Now I stare out at the gardens I once loved with disgust, nearly puking at the sight of the two cuddled up together, laughing about cauldron knows what. Now, as a headache comes on, the ones that always do before a vision, I simply slouch back in side, going to lay down on a couch. I want these seeings gone. No one cares anyway. If it doesn’t come from Elain Archeron, it means nothing. I mean nothing.

And it is now, as I lay myself across the chair that it truly sets in. He loves her. They love her. She is better. She is more beautiful and interesting and soft and she isn’t tarnished from years of fighting as I am, she is not the crazy woman I have become. She is Elain, she is all things soft and sweet, she is radiant and all consuming, she is powerful and all seeing. But most of all, she is the one Azriel wants. Not me. Her. He wants Elain Archeron.

———

I walk to the dining room for dinner, my head is a bit foggy and my eyes hurt. I keep my gaze down as I sulk into the room and take a seat next to Morrigan who talks idly with Feyre. It’s as if I’m invisible, no one even looks up to me as I walk in or sit, but of course, as soon as Elain comes in, everyone turns to her, conversations stopping. I simply look to my plate, fidgeting with my hands.

As everyone serves up their food, I sit, I’m not hungry. Plus, Elain is thinner, I want to be pretty like her and I have to be skinny to be like her. “Why aren’t you eating Yn?” Mor’s voice filters through my ears and it takes a moment for me to process them.

In a scratchy tone, caused by not using my voice, I reply. “Just not hungry I guess. Visions take it out of me.”

“You had a vision?”

“Yep. Third one of today.” My family pauses at that.

“Third? Today?” It’s Rhysand this time as his brows draw inward.

“Yes, they’ve been happening more and more often, I’m having at least 2-3 a day. I just want to rest.”

“Why haven’t you told me about them?”

“Because of two reasons. Rhysand.” His name is a hiss off my tongue as I speak, finally loosing my cool, “One, you would not care nor listen, haven’t for a single one of my seeings in the past month. And two- starting tomorrow I will no longer be working for this court.”

“What do you mean by that? Not working under this court?”

“I received a letter from Eris- he is ready to execute his plan to take over the autumn throne tonight and I shall be there tomorrow morning to begin my duties as his second in command.” The table is frozen, mixes of horror and sadness painting my ‘families’ faces.

“But-Yn you wouldn’t betray us like that would you?”

I can’t hold back the humorless, dry, laugh that leaves me. “Betrayal? I have Betrayed you?” My head whips to meet Rhysands as I stand and back away from the table. “Rhysand I have done nothing but support you. I was there for you three-“ I point to the three Illyrian males at the table, “in the war camps, I have been here sense we were learning to fly! I was there under the mountain! I lossed my gods dammed wings for you Rhysand. For you! Because you were my family.” Tears begin pouring down my face as I let everything I had bottled up out, “ I was there to support Mor after Eris’ ‘terrible acts’ and I kept my mouth shut about it being a half truth.” I look to the blond across the table who try’s desperately to avoid my gaze.

“I was there on the battle field. I told you my seeings no matter what they were. I stayed as I watched my family replace me, as I watched the man I loved fall for another over and over again. I stayed as my things were taken from me by her.” My finger points to the middle Archeron, Azriel moving slightly in front of her, “I have stayed as my family was ripped from me, I stayed and supported all of you even as my so called family replaced me, as the male I’ve loved as long as I’ve known him, as the male I have loved with my very soul, my very being, my mate.” I look into Azriels warm eyes, “left me for another, as my mate and my family left me in the dust for a new shiny toy.”

I breathe as I take a moment to survey the room, faces filled with shock and horror and sadness watch me. “So yes Rhysand.” It’s a sigh this time as I speak, tired, downright exhausted, “yes, I am leaving. But I am not leaving anything behind. I was already a ghost here anyway. I am leaving and taking my seeings and duties with me. You do not listen to them anyway, it will be no use to you.”

I snap and bags fall into my hands, I turn to the door, silence filling the room, “your my mate?”

“Yes Azriel- I am.”

“Yn wait let me-“

“Save it Rhysand.” I turn on my heel, “ I am leaving to a new kingdom, one that has much potential under their new leader. I am leaving to a court that I see thriving, I am leaving from the court I see crumbling- and it will not be my fault when it does.”

I turn back to the door, a gust of wind hitting me as I step out, taking the hands of the new high lord of autumn. Ignoring my family’s pleas and Azriels yells as I am taken back home.

—————

Okkkkk here it is! I hope you all enjoyed and thank you anon for the request!! Love y’all!

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #elain x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #nesta archeron #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand x reader #rhysand #eris vanserra #eris x reader #angst #no happy ending

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destructive-poet · 3 days

Text

Getting Even

astarion x gn! human tav hurt/comfort (~1.5k words)

This display of tenderness makes Astarion’s innards tremble in a weird, crawling sort of way– foreign enough, but not entirely unpleasant. Despite this, he remains quiet and relaxes his breath instead, deciding he would rather focus on the ugly, tangible sensation of his torn flesh being prodded."

astarion gets hurt. astarion is a moody bitch about getting hurt. unnamed gn tav apologizes by letting him suck their neck.

rating: mature

warnings: slight slight description of wounds

minors dni!

“Astarion?” Came a voice at the draped-down entrance of his tent, accompanied by the sound of distant waters and the crackling of a small fire. Night had long since fallen, and the voices of allies had slowly reduced to only the barest hints of conversations, seemingly muffled by the darkness. “Could I come in?”

The elf grimaces, jaw clenched tight as he lets out a simmering, discontented agreement, narrowing his eyes (though whether this is out of pain or annoyance, he himself is uncertain of). Of course, of all the times they could bother him, the ignorant wretch waits until he is despairing on the wooden plank he calls a “bed,” fists clenching the ragged blanket so tightly the worn fabric is liable to disintegrate, to come knocking at his door. The muscles in his side are wound so tight he fears they may snap. But yes, let’s have a visitor.

They gingerly push the thick tent door to the side, stepping in with caution to observe his state. “Are you okay?” Their eyes scan across him, taking note of the way he breathes, shallow and fast, not unlike an injured animal. Mess is strewn about the tent, and the vampire attempts to mask the obvious pain on his face. Unsuccessfully, but the party leader thinks it a noble attempt nonetheless.

His eyes meet theirs, glowering.

“No, of course I’m okay,” He grits out, “Just nearly impaled a few hours ago! But yes, darling. I’m fine. A mere scratch.” He seethes. They frown, scrunching their brows. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. You know that...” Astarion glares in return, shuffling a little in his spot and then pointedly pouting at the wall.

They settle down onto the floor, pulling a woven bag from off their shoulders and setting it onto the ground, shuffling through it until they retrieve a small jar. “Salve. I went out and bought it for you.” The party leader states, gesturing the product towards him.

The vampire huffs, though shows no reluctance in letting them move closer, before their hands pause at the hem of his shirt, loose and untucked above a pair of cotton pants. “Can I lift your shirt to put it on?” They ask, looking at him. He grumbles out a yes, scoffing. As they shift the cloth up and away, revealing a gruesome puncture wound, he grimaces, moving back at the sensation. “It’s okay,” they say, reassuring, “this should help.” They hold up the salve once again. “It should numb and disinfect your wound. Do you want it?”

He nods, and they take a rag from their bag, gesturing it at him. “Want me to put it on, or do you want to do it yourself?” The party leader looks at him with worn eyes, tired and ragged by the troubles of their journey. Briefly, the elf’s eyes soften in response, before he exhales and mutters a yes. He sighs, “You may.”

They quickly begin their work, trying to apply the medicine as smoothly and painlessly as possible, only resulting in a few, minor winces of pain from the man laying aside them. “My sweet thing,” they whisper, “you’ll be okay.” Their free hand slowly comes to rest on his face, and they briefly rub his cheekbone. “It should be better very, very soon.” This display of tenderness makes Astarion’s innards tremble in a weird, crawling sort of way– foreign enough, but not entirely unpleasant. Despite this, he remains quiet and relaxes his breath instead, deciding he would rather focus on the ugly, tangible sensation of his torn flesh being prodded. When the human finishes tending to him and sets their items back in the bag, he feels relief. Finally, the pressure is taken off of his injury, and is instead replaced by a numb and somewhat minty sensation.

And though the pain is not completely gone, it is much better, and he has the strength now to sit up straighter, carefully observing his human rummaging through that ragged bag again, eyes flickering with reflections of a candle nearby. “Thank you, by the way. Sorry I was being a little bit… Difficult, earlier.” He states, quietly, and they nod it off, continuing to search their belongings, focused. He is about to call their name out again when they straighten up in relief, grabbing a little shimmering object in their closed hand and moving it into his.

“I found this earlier. I thought you might like it.”

In Astarion’s palm, now, is a little ring, embellished with white stones and gold trimmings. He turns it over, feeling the cool weight of it in his palm. His eyes flicker up to them, and he lets out a breathy laugh. A warm feeling settles in his chest, and he swallows it back. “Well, thank you, sweet. You do know just how to cheer me up.”

“No big deal, just reminded me of you. I took it from a skeleton.” They shrug, attempting to play the gesture off as casual, ashamed to admit how much they had hoped he would like it. The vampire hmphs, grinning. “That’s my little scavenger. Always bringing me the prettiest things. This one is almost as pretty as you.”

They smile, humming. “Then it must be impossibly distant from comparing to you, hm?” A blush and a laugh, they move closer to him, reaching back to cradle his face in their hands. “You are my love, much more valuable than any gold. I’m so sorry you got hurt today.” They press a kiss to his forehead, stroking his hair and leaning back, eyes tearing up.

Astarion looks at them, unsure of what to say, feeling very present in an overwhelming (but not undesired) moment of softness. Away from crypts and castles and temples, rugged stone walls and painful, visceral struggles. Briefly, he lets himself imagine a softer life, made of blankets and forehead kisses, of thick draped curtains over glass windows teeming with morning sun. The human by his side, warmth, kindness, contentedness.

“It’s alright.” He says, reaching to hold their hand, feeling its energy thrum against his own. They sniffle, resting down by his side. “Are you hungry?”

His stomach churns, and he bitterly realizes that yes, indeed, he is. “No, darling, it’s really alright. I’ve got a bottle of something or another around here.”

“Astarion.” They say, unconvinced. “It’s no trouble. I like it.” The vampire smirks, and they quickly backtrack. “I mean— Whatever. You know what I mean. It’s not about that. Not…” They sigh, closing their eyes. “Not like that now.”

He sighs exasperatedly in return, teasingly. “Well, if you insist… Since it so delights you-” They narrow their eyes at him, huffing. “Apologies, apologies. But yes, My sweet, if you would like to give me such a delicious meal, I would be very grateful.”

“Well, I’m glad you are back to your normal, mischievous self.” They mutter, sitting up to beckon him towards their neck, skin luminous in the dimly lit tent. “Go ahead, I don’t bite.” They say, giggling at their own joke. “As you wish, darling.” He firmly grabs onto them, one hand digging into the soft warmth of their waist, while the other pulls their neck into his jaw. He hesitates, mouth watering at the scent of his beloved companion’s thrumming pulse. “Is this alright?”

“Yes yes, I promise,” A reassuring hand cups the back of his head, “You’re alright, come on.” He hums, pressing an open kiss to their skin, and the human lays a milder one upon his hair, making a breathy noise that jolts into a gasp as his fangs punch into them, and they jerk in his grasp briefly before melting back into him, the teeth quickly replaced by a tongue soothing over the spot. “Thank you,” he whispers, between sucks and licks, drinking in their blood like the finest wine, like the last drops of water in sweltering heat. His human makes a little noise, fingers weaving into his hair and tugging him closer, and he feels them swallow.

He groans, laving against the wound. “Good job, such a good little treat.” They nod, and he continues drinking his fill. Right as they start to feel dizzy, Astarion pulls off, licking his lips and looking up to them, kissing first the holes in their neck, then the edge of their jaw, and then the swell of their lips.

They meet his kiss before slumping into his arms, breathing slowly, relaxed. “Are we even now?” They ask, softly. “A wound for a wound?”

A gentle laugh and a cool touch pulls them to lay down, resting against his side. “Yes, darling, we’re even.”

#astarion #ao3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #hurt/comfort

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jinuaei · 1 day

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I can offer you an idea of yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?

Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!

Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader

Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE

WC: ~1.5k

Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.

“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee.

The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???

“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.

Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…

“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.

He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.

You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you.

His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.

Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble.

He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.

One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop!

Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.

When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.

“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.

In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind.

You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.

Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.

You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”

The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood, silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit.

As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?

“Amen.”

You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.

“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.

“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.

“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”

“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.

He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.

It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.

Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like.

You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.

Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…

“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.

“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”

Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.

Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.

But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.

A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.

Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #Hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel

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twelvemonkeyswere · 1 day

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Brienne and Femininity (and Masculinity)

I’ve been musing how one of the most important topics in Brienne's storyline is femininity, and even though her story isn't finished, we can fairly see what some of her major themes are around this—particularly, how performing or failing at performing femininity affects her both internally and externally.

Often I see people pointing out that, in spite of all of Brienne’s traditionally masculine ways—her clothes, her skill set, her body shape, to name a few—she does not fully reject femininity. That she likes little cute animals and fairy tales and wears dresses, and is shy and blushes frequently. This is an important point because, very often, fantasy settings made the assumption that a woman can only be taken seriously if she goes beyond “her womanhood” and acts and thinks “like a man,” as opposed to other girls who are too busy mending or wanting romance. Brienne challenges those tendencies that GRRM saw in his contemporaries. Things have changed a lot since (hello The Locked Tomb, for example), but you can still see where he is working from, and how many of the aspects of Brienne's story still resonate with more modern audiences because, well, sexism hasn't stopped existing. It's also important because the larger asoiaf and got fandoms often refuse to see this side of her, reducing her to a walking sword or a cardboard cut out of a pushover.

Now, my main issue here is that I feel several interpretations of Brienne have now gone on the other direction, and focus so much on Brienne PERFORMING traditional femininity—wearing luxurious dresses, using make up, accepting lavishing gifts, or wondering if she can be desired, for example—that we've gone sometimes on the opposite direction. I feel like many times we’re afraid or do not know how to approach characterizing her as someone who rejects aspects of femininity without making her into another “not like other girls” stereotype.

My two cents on the matter is that if we focus too much in what Brienne can't but "wants" to perform, we forget that she is, in fact, gladly rejecting some common impositions of femininity in her society.

Beginning with swordplay at a young age, for example, she was very glad to ditch a more traditional education in order to learn how to fight the way we know men are taught in asoiaf/got. She is also explicitly more comfortable in men's clothes. We all like the scene where Jaime makes an effort to give her a dress and she appreciates it, but we don't even find out what happened to the dress, because, presumably, the dress itself is not THAT important, at least not as much as the fact Jaime gave her gifts as a form of appreciation. Dresses have been used in Brienne's past to mock her (the event with the bear being the most recent one), and the important part is that Jaime is the only one who has given her one without that ulterior motive. The point of the scene is that where everyone undermines and underestimates her, he is acting the opposite way. We’re seeing how the relationship between them has evolved and that he is doing his best to mend what has happened and what he has done. She is given a dress and a sword as symbols that someone else in the story is beginning to appreciate her for all she is.

Beyond that, we even get details on the old shield Brienne got at Harrenhal, but not a word about the dress. Brienne explicitly doesn't really like being in dresses, she prefers mail and breeches, and feels more at ease in them than anything else. This is not her hating dresses because she is above them. I can’t remember well but as far as we know it’s just her preference: I don’t recall her saying she hates dresses, just that she prefers trousers. She must have been wearing dresses her whole life! It’s not likely she is unused to them. But we do know the act of being given a dress is important in Brienne’s story. The problem is not that they can’t make dresses for her, the problem is that everyone who forces her to wear a dress wants to signal how lacking she is as a woman, trying to fit her in a box too small for her real shape and then mocking her because she doesn’t meet their standard. The problem is they want to make her uncomfortable and they want to humiliate her, because she dares to exist in a way that doesn’t conform to patriarchal ideals. And the problem is that she likes to wear trousers and mail. She likes to wear masculine clothes, and they want her to be very aware of how much they disapprove.

And we also hear a great deal about marrying and having children out of duty. There's a certain loss she feels there because she believes that, at that point, all those missed opportunities will never present themselves again. All her life, she grew up with a dichotomy that dictated that the chance of having a family or children was through duty or none at all, because she is her father’s heir and—they kept telling her—nobody would want an ugly, masculine, temperamental girl as a wife. They could only want her for the money she brought. The point of the story is that, once again, failing the standards of femininity has forced her into a mentality where she thinks she can’t be loved because nobody would like who and what she is. But even then, even with that thorn in her mind, she still feels relieved she didn't have to perform these particular duties. The only thing she’s sad about is that she thinks she's missed any chance at having a family at all and will never know what that might be like. She doesn’t actively want babies or even to be married. She is still young, and at least to me, she seems to view these things in hypothetical rather than explicit goals or wants. She thinks that, at 20, there is no opportunity for her to experience these things because of how her society works. It’s the lack of choice that she mourns, down the line. But she rejects that particularly role that femininity imposes on her now. She didn’t want it, and she is happy it didn’t go through. She literally fought an old man to prove how much she didn’t want those impositions.

All this is interesting to me because Brienne also sort of thinks of herself as her father's son as well as her father's daughter. It almost slips her mouth once or twice. She is aware, I think, that many times the differences between a son and a daughter boil down not really to gender but to the sort of duty they perform. And she wants to do the sorts of things sons do, too. Men regularly learned to fight and wore the clothes she liked best and used hard-earned skills in a way she wanted to use them. There are layers to this (we’ll get to that in a bit) but she is, I think, very aware of her masculinity, and, if left to her own devices, she seems comfortable in it. The problem is she is NOT left to her own devices.

Most of Brienne's self doubt comes from outside forces. As a woman, they underestimate her. As a woman, they think she is stupid. As a gender non-conforming woman, every jape uttered goes directly to her womanhood. As a woman, if she looks the way she does and dresses the way she does and fights the way she does, when she expresses any vulnerable emotion, any shred of “femininity,” she is mocked for it. She likes dancing and beautiful things and pretty boys but a woman as masculine as she is is not the sort of person who gets to express those preferences without judgment from those around her.

The point is Brienne’s world wants her miserable either way: being unable to be a woman the way they demand of her, because she is too much “like a man” for it, or being unable to be a man, because she is too much a woman for that. The point is she can’t win regardless of what she does. Because that’s how sexism works.

But Brienne’s story is, I think, one about choices. The thing is that the world makes it harder for her, but she shouldn't have to be one thing or the other. She shouldn’t have to be defined by one or the other. If she wants to fight in the mud and smell roses and wear chain-mail and talk to charming men, she should be able to choose all of those things. I think it’s easy to focus too much in what aspects of femininity Brienne likes or dislikes instead of looking at what the story is proposing, which is to look at what Brienne,as a person, likes or dislikes. What she wants. Her parallel story to Jaime is about how the world will always try to put folks in boxes, especially those who, for some reason or another, do not easily fit in those boxes. The question is not “what feminine/masculine parts of Brienne is she happy performing” but rather “what does Brienne want, and why does she feel like she cannot get it and doesn't dare ask.”

This is also what drives her to servitude. There’s a phrase out there that says that if you don’t think you can be liked, you try to become useful, so at least there’s a reason to keep you around. It’s heartbreaking to see how Brienne’s vision of herself has been so skewed by the emotional abuse, parental neglect, and bullying she’s experienced since a young age. She doesn’t think anyone will grow close to her, so at least she can be close to people by serving them. She wants to put her skills to use, she wants to find a place where she fits, where she can be more herself, but she isn’t sure what that looks like or how to find it. She’s still searching, and learning many things on the way.

And Brienne is still very young. We can see her confidence growing and her worldview challenged and she is beginning to see the realities of herself and of the world around her through various trials by fire. Misogyny makes her feel incomplete, but we know the things she trusts about herself while simultaneously seeing the way she constantly doubts others. How she can't never express all of herself without constant judgment or mockery.

I feel like yes, the fact Brienne doesn't reject all traditional femininity is really important to her themes, but by extension, it's as important that shedoes reject some of those traditional expressions of femininity. What she is truly rejecting is imposition, not femininity. What she truly needs to embrace is freedom, not masculinity. She's making her own vows, breaking her own promises, going through her own mistakes. She is learning the hard way. Agency in a world of limited choices is one of Brienne's main themes too. There are moral issues that go deep within her story as well as examinations of the effects of war and the struggle to find authenticity and connection in a community that refuses to acknowledge yours, a community drenched in pretense and lost in performance.

And I think it’s easy to get too caught up in her wanting to be a girlfriend or a mother or wearing a dress that we bypass the whole conversation around why that matters at all. I feel like Brienne's success isn't going to come from her fully embracing all her feminine traits or fully accepting all her masculine traits but from being able, down the line, to be exactly who she is.

#i was looking at my drafts and here are some scrambled ideas I had that I wanted to release so I've tried to make them more organized #brienne of tarth #asoiaf

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synthshenanigans · 2 days

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Both of us see a cloud & all good things come in threes moment

Lil ideas n things:

• He's based on Spring & a Storm a bit. Hence the clouds & flowers. [They're cherry blossoms specifically :} cos pink]

• You can kinda tell in the doodles, but his face is a mask similar to Soul in the album art. Behind it is a shadowy figure like the one in Light & Night. Also has little glitches and video effects over him similar to TFaR

• There's a lot of things on him that are in pairs of three from the line "All good things come in threes" from VoaC. Three lil floaty cloud hairs. Three flowers & three clouds on his pants. Three stamens on the flower in his hair etc.

• Outfit detail; The jean jacket has spilt colors like the hoodie in TFaR. Idk why but I also like the idea of him have skeletal related things, so the back side has a spine & ribcage design. You can also kinda see it in the top drawing but he's got skeleton gloves too :}

• When he does split into three, its not immediately as HMS. Whole turns into mixed state of being Whole & Soul. Not quite fully himself now but still hasn't split into solid forms yet. Heart & Mind are more basic black & white versions of themselves. Just vague ideas/forms of feelings & thoughts. This a shitty doodle but they named Spring and Storm

They look kinda dumb to me atm but eh concepts are fun

Have had a very rough idea of doing an HMS animation using the OG Spring & a Storm with them two being the voices during the Mr. Moon segment

Also when in these states, the two rarely ever remember anything that happened in those moments. Soul can somewhat recall things when being that Whole/Soul inbetween but its not all that clear. Kinda like a Dream you could say :}

Maybe will add more or make another post if I think about anything else

#Whole being pink based is my favorite thing #chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj whole #-atlas art-#this took a lot longer to make & post than I wanted it to augh #not a favorite thing of mine that I've drawn but one of my favorite concepts

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rendy-a · 3 days

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Here it is! The winner of the reverse trope poll: Accidentially kidnapping a mafia boss! I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy it as well!

An Accidental Deal

'Think of the puppies and kittens,' you tell yourself sternly. You stand outside of Ramshackle Shelter and try to psych yourself up for this confrontation. Countless affirmations run through your head. You can do this! The question still remains in your head; when they arrive, will you be able to do it?

The news has been tremendously shocking to all the volunteers: Ramshackle Shelter was all but sold to an entrepreneur to build a branch of a popular ocean-themed cafe. You'd heard of Mostro Lounge but never dared go to such a place. Not because the cafe wasn't nice sounding, no, it was due to the owner. It was an open secret among the residents of your city that the sly restaurateur Azul Ashengrotto was, in fact, mafia boss Don Azul. And now that scummy bastard was this close to shutting down your shelter.

You'd protested at city hall to block the zoning (failure), written to the paper to get the community to object (failure) and tried to raise funds to buy the place yourself (failure). Now, you were down to extreme measures only. So, this was it; you were really going to kidnap someone. You pat the pocket of your jacket where you have a cloth soaked in chemicals to knock someone out. Just one small thing stands in your way, abject fear.

Don Azul was terrifying. You'd expected an aura of danger and power, but when you saw the teal-haired gentleman step from the limo and adjust his hat, you realized you'd grossly underestimated him. He looks like he could bite your arm off... and would probably enjoy it. By contrast, the silver-haired fellow who emerges next in plain shirt sleeves seems far more kidnappable. 'Why can't you be Don Azul?' you think sadly. You watch from your alley hiding spot as the formidable Don and his secretary(?) head inside to inspect the building.

You hurriedly cross the street and slip into the side entrance. You had all the access codes from your years of volunteering, so it was easy for you to navigate the halls quietly and arrive behind the little inspection party. The two men were talking, and the secretary was gesturing in a way that made you feel like they were discussing how to set up the space. After they threw you and the animals out. You grit your teeth and scowl silently at the figure of Don Azul and pat your pocket again; he'd get what was coming to him soon enough.

Then, in a moment that takes your breath away, Don Azul looks up and into a mirror on the wall. For a moment, you think you meet his mis-matched eyes. You feel your heartbeat race as you enter panic mode. Then the Don sneezes, which breaks the illusion. You back your way down the hall and into a storeroom. Maybe you couldn't do this after all. There was no way you could face down that man when you couldn't even stand to meet his gaze.

You need a Plan B. Fast. The adrenaline causes you to shake and you rest your shivering form against a wall to think. What can you still do in this moment? You tap your pocket with the cloth, all set up to abduct someone. Well, that's a waste. Or was it? Your mind strays from the intimidating Don Azul to his companion, the secretary. Was a mafia secretary worth anything as a hostage? You consider the possibility that he might know a great deal of Don Azul's secrets. Maybe that was enough to negotiate for them to leave this place alone?

You hear barking from beyond the hall and guess they've opened the door leading to the dog kennels. In this moment you are decided; for the animals, you can do this. You were kidnapping that little secretary of Don Azul’s. The barking intensifies and then fades to a dull drum. You figure they've gone in back and closed the separating door. It's the perfect time for you to get into some sort of position out front for an ambush. You creep into the entrance room and jump back when you nearly bump into Mr. Secretary. He seems as surprised to see you as you are to see him. His light blue eyes flicker to the door where the frightening Don had disappeared.

"Didn't go in with the boss?" you mutter softly. "The boss?" he questions quietly before his eyes return to the door, and he puts it together. "Ah, yes. I'm sensitive to the dirty, ah, I mean, delightful animals." You scowl at him, "They aren't dirty. And they are a lot more charming than you." The mild man gives a shrug of his eyebrows as though to say, ‘If you say so.’ He seems tired as he sighs heavily and gives you a once over. You’d guess he’s done this any number of times while by the Don’s side. He is experienced and appears to have sized you up in one simple glance. “I take it you were affiliated with the location’s prior business?” This rubs you the wrong way and you whisper shout back, “Its not ‘the location,’ its Ramshackle Shelter and I’m not so sure it’s a prior business either! I’ve got some points to talk over with your boss!”

The man gives you a pitying smirk and another sizing glance. You appear to have been found wanting as he replies, “Is that so?” in a condescending tone. You frown hard, both angry and embarrassed at the interaction. “Anyway, it’s not up to you. I’m not here to make deals with some nobody secretary,” you tell him mockingly. His eyes widen for a moment and then you see the visible effort he makes to hold in his laughter. Ok, this has gone on far enough. Plus, you need to make sure you leave before the evil Don returns. You approach him in what you hope is a decent appearance of menace, “You better just come along quietly.” Finally, he appears to take you seriously as you see his chest expand to take in a large breath before a shout. Unfortunately for Mr. Secretary, you prove faster and thrust the cloth from your pocket over his mouth before he can sound the alarm.

It works like a charm and the small man is very easily knocked out. You run to the storage room and drag out a flat-bed cart used to haul animal kennels back and forth between the entry and back. On the cart is a large and empty kennel big enough to hold a great dane, so you figure one skinny secretary will fit pretty well too. Except, passed out mafia secretaries are significantly more difficult to shove in a kennel than a dog. You heave and shove his limp form until you mentally decide he isn’t so small after all. Fortunately, you manage to get him marginally concealed in the kennel and out the back before you hear the barking of dogs that signals the Don’s return. Time to hustle this cart down the back alley and into the waiting warehouse.

After getting your (not so little) secretary back to the warehouse, you look at him laying limp in the kennel and decide that’s a little too cruel for your taste. So, again, you take the effort to haul his limp form from the kennel and get him settled in what appears to be a reasonably comfortable position on a chair. Then you take a seat in another chair to wait for him to regain consciousness. Plus, you need the time to plan. Before, all your ideas had stemmed from having Don Azul as your hostage. Now that you only had his secretary, you were no longer sure how to even let him know that. Can you just call up the mafia and ask to speak to the Don? That…didn’t feel like a real thing.

You were pondering your options when a groan brings your attention to your hostage. You wait for him to open his eyes, place a tentative hand to his head and groggily ask you what happened. “I kidnapped you, of course,” you cockily reply. He holds up his unbound hands in front of him, “Shouldn’t you have at least tied me up then?” You feel your mouth fall open as you look forlornly at the hands held out for you to see. “Are you going to keep gaping like that? I might mistake you for a guppie,” he states in a cold tone. You slam your hand against a crate and shout, “Better watch that language or I’ll have you singing with the fishes!”

He gives you a startled look and then starts to laugh, “Singing? I think you mean sleeping.” Ok, this could be going better, but you can’t back down now! “I said singing! Maybe I want to hear you sing me a little song, beautiful. I’ve got to get the most out of my little captive princess before I turn her back over to her family,” you finish with a mocking leer. The barest hint of ‘beautiful?’ can be heard coming from the secretary’s mouth. You point at him and declare, “You’ve got two options; stay over there and start talking or walk your pretty little self over here and sing me a song. What’s it going to be, Princess?”

The man gives you a look from deep beneath his long lashes and says, “Those are quite the options.” Then he flushes and gives you another one of those sizing up looks. This time, it takes him several minutes to make up his mind, which you suppose is an improvement. Finally, he narrows his eyes in challenge and says, “Very well, if that’s how you’d like it,” and stands. You don’t quite know what to do when he marches over and sits in your lap. Then he looks at you coyly and whispers, “Did you have any requests?” This certainly wasn’t in your plan. You shrug helplessly and finally from the depths of your throat you hear, “Row, Row, Row your Boat?” emerge from your mouth. The corner of his lips curl up momentarily before he schools his expression, “Of course, as you wish.” Then he begins singing.

You feel silly for having requested such a childish song but, to his credit, he gives it a serious effort. And he sings amazingly. You listen attentively and when he finishes, you apologize, “I’d clap but I’m afraid that would knock you from my lap.” He smiles for a moment before replying in a serious tone, “That is an important point to consider. Perhaps you could join me in a verse instead.” Then he runs his thumb along your bottom lip with a coy gaze and breathlessly starts another round of Row, Row, Row your Boat. You feel a bit silly, but it would be rude to refuse after all that, so you timidly join him. When you finish, he smiles, “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You suddenly remember that he is The Enemy and frown sternly. “Come now,” he chides playfully, “I’m just pointing out that I’m not that difficult to work with, Angelfish.”

“If you lot were so reasonable to work with, then why is my shelter being closed down!” you shout with tears forming in your eyes. You hate this feeling, like you are the vulnerable one when he is the one who is kidnapped. He looks deeply into your wavering eyes and finally sighs, “That place is really important to you, isn’t it?” You look up at him and answer passionately, “Not just for me but for all the animals. They have nowhere else to go. No one to look after them. If we turn them away, what will happen to them?” You can’t stand to look at his sympathetic gaze and turn to look at the floor instead, “Your boss’s café could go anywhere. Why take this from me? From them?”

The man, who you decide is far more gentle than you originally thought, appears to genuinely be considering your argument. For the first time since you met him, you give him one of your friendly smiles, “I know it isn’t your fault. You aren’t the boss.” Then you pat him gently on the back. “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m going to fix this somehow.” His breath catches and he whispers, “You just might at that.” You give him a grateful look, “At least someone has confidence in me. I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess up all day.” The gently man is having none of this, “I don’t know what you mean, Angelfish, you seem to be doing quite well from my perspective.” You laugh and give him a grateful smile, “Well thanks for that. I think I needed some cheering up.”

The kind (you’ve upgraded him to kind) man gives you a small caress on the cheek, “Is there anything I can do to help?” You look deep into his beautiful eyes and remark, “I wouldn’t mind another song.” He brushes a stray hair from your forehead and begins to sing again.

And that is when they find you. An amused chuckle from the door alerts you to his presence and you stop your duet immediately to turn, horrified, to face Don Azul. You fearfully meet the eyes of the lovely man in your lap and stammer, “It..its Don Azul, he found us.” Your statement causes the intimidating man to open his mis-matched eyes wide. Then, he bursts out into an unhinged laugh. Your fear compounds exponentially when you hear another voice emerge from the unguarded back entrance, “What’s so funny? Go ahead, I’m in the mood for a joke.” You turn your head and can’t help but blurt out, “Holy shit, there’s two of them!”

Your companion gives a resigned sigh and stands up, “Jade, Floyd. Come along. We’re leaving now.” You look up at him, entirely overwhelmed. He meets your eye and then smiles sadly, “In case you aren’t quite finished with me yet.” Then he reaches into his breast pocket, retrieves a small case and extracts a business card. He slips it gently into your hand and then walks confidently past the intimidating man (Jade? Floyd?) and out the door. The frightening twins give you amused (and terrifying) smiles as they silently turn and follow him out the door. It is several minutes before you regain your senses enough to turn over the card in your hand. It reads in flowing script: Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of Mostro Lounge.

-Several months later-

You sit at your desk and page through another document. In the background, the sound of barking dogs is almost soothing to your ears. Then, a nervous volunteer practically runs into your office, “Director! Someone is here. I…I think he might mean to tear up the place!” You calmly look up from your desk, “And then serve you tea afterward or burn the place down?” The volunteer looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. A moment later, a fearful comprehension crosses their face as they mutter, “Oh my god, there are two of them!” You nod, so, it’s both.

When the pair of twins saunter into your office, you smile welcomingly, “Jade, Floyd. How nice it is to see you today.” Floyd comes around the desk to drape an arm over your shoulders, “Hey Shrimpy, bossman sent us to pick you up.” You nod agreeably, “That’s right. Its opening night.” Jade places a palm to his chest, “The newest branch of Mostro Lounge will be most delighted to have the Director’s patronage for this special occasion.” You nod and direct them to wait out front as you finish things up back here.

When they leave, the fear struck volunteer questions you, “Who were they? They look like the mafia!” You shrug, “As far as I know, they are just employees of Mostro Lounge. As far as I know.” They give you a look, “Isn’t that the place that nearly shut us down a few months ago?” You grab your long purple jacket and give them a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yeah but we’ve come to an agreement since then.” The volunteer gives you a considering look and backs a half-step away, as though suddenly wondering if they’d misjudged the familiar Director of Ramshackle Shelter.

You understand, you’d been there before, so you pay them no mind. Brushing past the volunteer to flick off the light, letting them hide in the darkness of your office. Then you head out and wave to your waiting escort, “Come on boys. I’ve got a date with the princess. Time to make him sing for me.” Your inside joke never fails to amuse them, and they laugh appreciatively. Your relationship was a complicated thing. You weren’t sure who was supposed to be the hero or the villain in the whole story but, you supposed, you didn’t really care. Floyd held the door of the long black limo for you, and you stepped inside. You could ponder the morality of the whole thing later; you had your Princess waiting for you tonight. And, if you were lucky, you’d have Azul sing your song for you again. Ah, life was but a dream.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #reverse tropes

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foursaints · 21 hours

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saints I’m thinking about your OCs again…pls I want to know about Theo’s tattoos 🥺

luckily i am literally never not thinking about him ever…. once again @wyorians come look at our beautiful autistic thot son

thank you for the interest 😭 i never keep the placement consistent, but the tattoos i generally include are:

knuckles are LOVE/SICK, bite mark on side of neck (matching with freddie), the batwings (i put these on barty (!!)) were originally a theo-ism, “the lovers” tarot card, some sort of medieval parrying dagger or sword (knight motif 🥴), assorted hearts, & his girlbestfriend’s initials

he is an artist ^_^ and he drew most of them himself. unpictured he definitely has, like, the eraserhead baby & body horror creatures & a weirdly pornographic junji ito-esque anime girl in a bikini impaling herself on a sword that everyone judges him for. and sensitive softboy leonard cohen lyrics. he contains multitudes.

the important thing to understand about theo is that he looks Like That but he is a JAMES POTTER VARIANT in his soul!!! just insanely quiet about it

#foursaints art tag #ONCE AGAIN WE ARE all agreeing to avert our eyes and pretend we do not see me being cringy on here on main #and doing some sort of secret handshake about it. we saw nothing. awesome #anyway i draw him a lot. this one is more recent. i’m starting to realize the design ethos behind my reggie is just like #‘theo if he got help’. ‘theo if he groomed himself’#saintsocs #freddie & theo

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hungerofhadarr · 18 hours

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Okay my turn for a toshiro and laios post . I have not watched the anime but I have read the whole manga and . Um . I think some of you just dislike toshiro for straight up made up reasons . Especially when you give the story time to … you know . Progress and Tell a Story ? Both of these characters are mourning the loss of falin and . You know . The whole Dark Magic thing ? This whole meeting is already full of grief and nerves and a situation that could have been resolved better … if not in the current circumstances . toshiro is not evil for snapping at laios and explaining his grievances just like laios is allowed to feel hurt over being told someone he had thought was a close friend actually did not like him but only liked his sister. This is not a complex thing

While I will Not go further into the story bc of the spoilers , it is extremely fucking Insane how everyone is seemingly ready to write off toshiro for .. a reaction made in grief and anger . Also ignoring his upbringing and the society he is used to + the fact that laios may have not meant any harm , but to constantly bombard the man with questions about “ back home “ etc etc .. yeah he is going to snap LMAO ? Trying so hard to not say it but some of this hate feels extremely … like the extreme hate for an explicitly Japanese character in media bc they do not act the correct way to you …. Look Inwards ?

Also oh my god can characters have conflicts they both get to grow from . Please . This fight was not to choose a side and stick with it . This was to show you the way these people interact and currently understand how things Are . And how they are at an extreme odds with each other . Both of them have valid reactions and they both have stepped over the line ! That is the POINT !!! PLEASE GIVE TOSHIRO ROOM TO GROWN AND DON’ T ACT LIKE LAIOS DOESN’ T NEED TO GROW TOO

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #laios touden #toshiro nakamoto #toshiro dungeon meshi #laios dungeon meshi #please guys for the love of GOD

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kekaki-cupcakes · 1 day

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Heyy! Could I request Jason x Child of Nyx! Reader, i'd figure it'd be a cool thing since you know Zeus and Nyx don't really like each other that and then their children fall in love.

You don't have to do it, if you don't want to and ps. I love all of your works! <3

okay so these have been sitting in my inbox since eons ago, so I decided I was gonna set myself a minimum of 0.4k words because I figured people would rather read a lil bit of their request rather then non of it, but I just churned out 1.2k words of this and I know more then the gods do about nocturnal animals.

enjoy <3

he was raised by wolves - Jason G x child of Nyx reader/animal lover

»»————-　★　————-««

Jason dumped his teddy bear jacket on the back of the spinning chair, after he checked there were no hedgehogs eating plum offcuts on it. He’d made that mistake one too many times. There were a lot of miniscule holes in the sleeves of his jacket.

The medical kit he was looking for was most likely in one of the crates stacked beneath the snake table. The table with the snake tanks on it, obviously.

Your cabin was dark a lot of the time, when you weren’t there, courtesy of the kingdom of nocturnal animals lurking between books and in pillowcases, so Jason had to turn on a few of the antique lamps you’d found [on the side of the road, of course] so that other people could see.

He got to his knees, wincing at the crack he heard.

He could also hear a faint hissing. He looked into one of the tanks, and waved at Benjamin. Benjamin was a northern desert night snake. Meaning he looked like if a leopard wearing a choker was turned into a slithery little serpent. Jason was glad you’d passed that pet leopard you used to have onto Pollux and Castor. It got fur all over his clothes.

Benjamin just stuck his tongue out at him, and Jason crawled underneath the desk, looking for the first aid kit every cabin was supposed to have.

There was a pretty high chance you had chucked it out to make room for that little collection of shrinking green frogs you had found in a river by the Hecate cabin, deep in the woods so that when they accidentally cursed bloodlines and the like, no one was in imminent danger. Lou Ellen owed her first born to three different beings, but that was irrelevant.

He dug past a few boxes of sugar glider pellets, and found the first aid kit.

“JASON GRACE, SON OF A BITCH, CHILD OF ROME, CONSUL OF DEMIGODS, PRAETOR OF THE FIRST LEGION!”

Jason sat straight up. A thud echoed through the low lit little cabin, and his head began to pound. He’d hit it on the bottom of the snake table. He sniffed, “I said that once.”

He heard you trot over as he tried to extract himself, the back of his head throbbing painfully.

“Babe, we talked about this,” you fussed, and yanked him out into the open with the force of someone who took chocolate out of coyotes mouths on the daily. “You gotta stop banging your head! You’re getting that chronic pain from it that Will told you about!”

Jason grumbled about nothing, and squinted as he looked around. Your face was just a blob.

“You dropped your glasses babe, hear, lemme… wait, hold this,” you said, dumping your wrapped up hoodie into his arms, the one with the moon cycle phases on the back, and then crawling back underneath the snake table. “I’ve got em!”

He watched you slide them back onto his eyes, your hands actually very gentle compared to the yanking from before. He tried not to grin stupidly. The hoodie in his arms wriggled. Jason looked down, and a small spiky red face looked up at him with big shiny eyes.

“Uh…” he said.

You stood up with a huff, “I knew it, you’ve got a concussion. Now you’re slurring your speech!”

“...No, I just wasn’t expecting a fox,” Jason managed to squeak out, staring at the little animal. It was pretty cute. It reminded him of a wolf, but not the wolves he knew, more of a spindly wolf dipped in ketchup.

You paused, the first aid kit in your hands. “You weren’t? What did you think I was doing in the forest?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said, standing back up and moving to the squishy blanketed bed behind the humongous crystal ball and stack of telescopes. There were also a few cat playgrounds to weave around, but he managed to sink into your pile of bat shaped teddies and pillows. “Fighting monsters, near death experiences, something regular?”

You rolled your eyes, and sat cross legged on the bed, reaching for his head with those gentle hands that made him understand how you could pick up the deadliest of spiders and feralist of wolverines without even a scratch.

Jason wasn’t even nocturnal, but he did sink into your hold.

Then you let go to crack the unfrozen ice pack and let the chemicals take over until it would make the tips of your fingers freezing. Jason knew to expect your cold hands under his shirt, trying to freeze him out.

He was sort of used to it, though.

He looked around your cabin while you savagely whacked the poor icepack against one of the many thick framed mirrors lining your walls. A few bats flapped out of their hiding places in the rafters and settled back down. A baby puma hissed from its place by the umbrella stand that was actually just full of swords.

From the outside, your cabin looked like a tiny portion of a haunted mansion plonked between the Asteria cabin and the Hestia cabin, which was really just a cozy little room for anyone. Jason pet the soft head of the fox napping in his arms. On the inside, though, it was just old lamps and chew toys and even older mirrors. And a lot of poo bags. And record players. And Jason’s hoodies.

You were already wearing his teddy bear jacket, but he didn’t argue when you pressed the ice pack to his head.

“So, what were you really lookin for in there, babe?” you asked, taking back the fox. You held your hand out, and it disappeared into a shadow.

“Bandages.”

On the other side of the room, out of a shadow, you grabbed a ziploc bag of raspberries. You pulled it back and began feeding the little fox, red staining your cold fingertips.

“You know you can’t beat Beth, right?” you teased, looking up for a moment with those gorgeous eyes that made Jason’s head feel a little floaty. Or maybe it was just the injury.

You smirked, “I mean, not that it’s totally not hot when you beat the shit out of people or anything.”

Yep. Definitely just the head injury. Totally.

Jason ate a slightly squashed raspberry. “I know, but I wanted to practise. I was gonna find Will. Can’t remember how to wrap my wrists.”

You passed over the fox, who wiggled out of the hoodie and curled around a fruit bat Squishmellow with a yawn, fangs stained with red that may or may not be berries or blood.

Jason shuffled forwards on the bed, ice pack falling from his white blonde hair. “My turn?”

“I thought you were going to get the shit beaten out of you by Annabeth?” You said with a smirk. You had that shark tooth necklace on. Jason gave you a half hearted evil eye, and you opened your arms.

He flopped into the hug, pushing you both back onto the bed. A Tasmanian devil [how? You were in America!] and a grumpy looking white tailed deer and about seven different types of bush mice stared at you.

Jason didn’t care. He snuggled into your hug, chin on your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair.

He was your favorite feral animal.

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #Jason grace #Jason grace pjo #Jason grace headcanons #Jason #Jason pjo #Jason grace x reader #Jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x male reader #Jason grace fluff

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why-animals-do-the-thing · 3 days

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If you don’t mind sharing, since you don’t work for a zoo what is your job situation like? Making a living while working at a definitely zoo seems tricky. Is your main income zoology/animal related or is that more of a side thing?

Sincerely,

- a curious zoology student

I have a (mostly) unrelated jobjob - I’ve never actually been affiliated with a single facility, unless you count college internships before I started this blog. I freelance, working as a science media fact-checker and taking paid research contracts occasionally. I do work on a lot of animal / biology related fact-check content, but it’s not my entire scope of work. I also have the privilege of having family assistance, as I have chronic health issues that interfere with the normative 9-5 grind.

Everything I do in terms of blog writing/research, zoo industry research and publication, and photography is unpaid and pretty much a hobby at this point.

Prior to the pandemic I was trying to find funding for the intra-industry research and public-facing outreach I was doing, but there was never any money for it. (The industry is very used to expecting labor from young women for free. There was and is a lot of interest in the work I do, but the number of people/orgs that have ever provided compensation or financial support is in the single digits). The pandemic actually gave me the chance to pivot to focusing on professional fact-checking.

The only funding I get for any of this work is through a somewhat defunct Patreon I set up years ago when I was trying to make this blog / scicomm a full time gig. I’m terrible at updating it, and I’m conflicted enough about that to have been considering deleting it entirely. (For those of you who have stuck it out despite the radio silence, you’re incredible. You’ve facilitated the donation of my time to write a really cool paper with a zoo disaster response org, which will hopefully get through peer review soon).

To make something like this blog and everything else I do in the field actually financially sustainable, I’d need to fundraise and market more. The thing about a fact-checking career, though, is that it’s reinforced the need to make sure everything I write/say publicly is completely and 100% correct - because that level of rigor is what supports my professional reputation! Which means I’m slow to produce research and reticent to talk about it before it’s finished. My work comes out all the better for it, but it doesn’t fit into a content model that produces revenue.

So yeah, all of this is a side thing that I fit in around my paid work and my health. Because sometimes I just need to go see a tiger and smell an elephant, y’know?

#personal information #zoo job almost always require multiple incomes or family support #or generational wealth #otherwise you live in poverty #I am on a very non traditional industry path and it definitely does not pay either #but it’s a passion project

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ethanmaldridge · 3 days

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Is illustrating graphic novels your full time job or is it just part-time? something you do at the side

I write and illustrate books full time, both graphic novels and prose novels! I'm usually working on 2-3 projects in different stages at once, which helps keep things interesting and also keeps the rent paid.

Before going full time as an author/illustrator I had several jobs, including:

-Server and cake decorator at a small bakery.

-Retail at a stationary supply store.

-Assistant carpenter.

-Shoveling up poop at an animal farm.

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pit-and-the-pen · 13 hours

Text

Your Love is Sunlight- Unrequited Love Pt.3

Whoops. Part 3 to Requited Love but could also be read as a stand-alone (I think I gave enough context to do that). This will be the last linear fic for this little series. But there will be more from this OC.

Let me know if you want to be added to the on-going taglist for this OC

Eris x Day Court! OC (Sunbeam)

Warnings: Suggestive language, heavy kissing. One singular dialogue line with misogyny. Eating (as always let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also I’m heavily messing around with canon/ lore for mating bonds here.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Pt. 2 Alt Ending]

WC: 3.7k

divider by @cafekitsune

The request came not even a week later. A week that I could not get the red head out of my thoughts. Eris was a perfect gentleman that night, only lightly chucking as he held my hips away from his after our heated kiss. We danced the rest of the night away until my shoes had worn painful blisters into my heel. And I would do it a million times over if I got to see that look in his eyes

Eris looked at me like he actually saw me. Like a was someone worth looking at. Not a second option. No, he looked at me the way no one ever had before and I was drunk off of it. The fire in his eyes was enough to make me want to sink to my knees right then and there. I had told him that much that night.

But instead, he went back to his court. The very court whose seal is on the envelope in my hands. The paper so dark red it was almost black. I opened it with shaky hands and scanned over the words, over and over. Written in loopy, beautiful cursive. The note was short and sweet

Sunbeam, it would be my honor to show you around the Autumn court. You’d be my personal guest.

I will be waiting for your reply.

Yours,

Eris

One little word made my heart skip a beat. YOURS. Something deep in my chest purred at the idea but I brushed it off to the side. Flirting is one thing but the idea of Eris ever truly wanting something like that with me seemed too good to be true. So I wrote back my enthusiastic yes and in a puff of smoke that left the room smelling faintly of cinnamon, the letter was gone. Returned back to the male that had written it.

I had never been to the Autumn Court before. My eyes tried to adjust to the beautiful reds, greens and yellows in hues I’d never seen outside of paintings. The cool breeze that seemed to whisper in my ear as it brushed past. Everything seemed alive as I heard the scurrying of animals on the leaf covered ground. When the air rose a few degrees, you already knew who was walking up to me. I greeted Eris with a tight hug. He was dressed in a handsome emerald green button down with gray slacks. His hair tied up out of his face unlike the other night at the ball. Those same golden rings littered his fingers. I blushed as I realized my eyes had been raking over him. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything. Suddenly not knowing what to do with myself, I gave him an overdramatic curtsey raising my voice to stuff almost regal pitch.

“High Lord.” He quickly recovered from the confusion that washed over him. He smiled, catching on, before he bowed low

“Allow me the honor of showing you around.” He said as he extended an arm to me. His voice dripped with that same faux stuffiness. The two of you looked at each other, holding back laughter. I broke first. My laughter rang through the large forest at my back. His head was thrown back, blinding white teeth flashing. Once we had recovered, he held out his arm again. Voice back to normal. “I would still like to show you around.” I took his arm and the two of us walked around the manor that seemed to rise out of the forest.

AS he showed me around, he told me of the renovations that had recently taken place, pointed out the things that he still planned to change. The inside was just as breathtaking as the woods around the house. Rich colors and soft, plush fabrics filled the space with an unmistakable warmth. One that Eris had painstakingly tried to create.

“And this will be your room for your stay. I already had your things brought up and I had Tessa and Clover, two of my mothers maids, pick out some warmer clothes for you.” He gestured to the large armoire in the corner of the room. “If you need anything else please don’t hesitate to tell them or myself.” Thanks rushed out of my mouth as I gaped at the room.

My room at the day court had floor to ceiling windows that allowed for sun to streak through at all waking hours, marble and gold littered every surface possible. This room was cozy enough that I instantly felt my eyes get heavy. Dark wood paneling ran across the walls. Heavy curtains over the windows that had been pinned back displayed the colorful trees. And the bed.the bed. It was covered with the softest, plushest blankets I had ever seen. Pillows covered over half the bed and it made me want to do nothing but burrow into them and never leave that bed. My feet drifted on their own accord over to the bed, I reached out a hand and almost sighed at the feeling of the fabric against my fingers. Just as soft as they looked.

Eris’ content laugh pulled me out of my trance. I turned around to face him, he stood in the doorway still. “I’ll let you get settled. I can show you around more later today before dinner? If you want.” My heart fluttered at the idea, the thought of his court seeing us together. Of course, it was probably just to make sure I didn’t get lost in the maze that was the manor. At least that’s what I told myself, but as he took one more glance at me before he walked out of the room, I wasn't sure how much I believed that.

Although I had bathed earlier that day, the deep tub in my bathroom all but called my name. I sniffed random bottles of oils and poured in spicy, warm smells. The oils seemed to curl in the air and beckon me to sink deeper into the water. Completely submerging my head until I needed to come up for air. I sat in the bath until my skin started to prune. Groaning, I pulled myself from the soothing water and dried off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I padded over to the closet and ran a hand over all the clothes Eris had given me. The closet was full of jewel tones and deep reds. Floor length dresses that were heavy enough to keep out the nip of the air at night but light enough to walk around in during the day. I picked an emerald long sleeve dress and blushed at the realization that Eris and I would be matching. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the dress over my shoulder. The front buttoned up all the way to the ground. The waist tucked in slightly flaring out around my hips. It felt amazing against my skin and fit like a glove.

A knock at the door pulled my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still wet from the bath and small waves were starting to form at the ends. Eris opened the door and stilled as he took me in. I felt like I was a thousand feet under his heavy gaze. He looked down at his own shirt for a second before he looked at me again.

“Autumn court is a good look for you, Sunbeam.” My whole body flushed at the compliment and I hummed in agreement. A small yip from the hallway split my focus. A small furry face pushed through his legs, almost toppling the High Lord. “Azelia” he whistled, the hound stilled for a second before prancing over to me. She sniffed at my skirt before she sat at my feet, giving me her full attention. I reached down to pet her and she rolled over onto her back. I laughed at the twitch in her tail as I ran a hand over her stomach. Eris whistled one more time and she barked back before flipping back over and walked to sit at his feet in a similar manner. I giggled at the exhausted look he shot the dog. She only barked in her own form of laughter.

Eris and I walked along a river by the house. He helped me pick out the perfect stones for skipping across the water. Coming up behind me to make sure my arm had the perfect flick to make it sail over the surface. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, even with his help. Something he pointed out with a smirk. I pushed him lightly and he clutched at his chest like I had mortally wounded him. Crouching down onto both knees. I walked closer to him.

“Oh please, Eris ge-” My words were replaced with a yelp as he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. I could only laugh my head off as I pounded at his back. Demanding he put me down. When he did, I felt the tree against my back.

“Have I told you how beautiful you sound when you laugh?” I blushed and shook my head.

“It can’t be that special. No one has ever said that before.” He knew who I was speaking about and he pulled my chin up to look him in the eyes

“I wish I could offer the usual sentiment of killing the male that ever made you feel this way but that would complicate things as a high lord,” he winked at me. I felt my shoulders loosening at the humor in his voice. “But you say the word and I will.” He picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “You’re radiant and anyone who has ever made you feel otherwise is either blind or dumb or both.”

We had leaned in so close to one another that I could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Someday I hoped he would let me kiss each and every single one of them. My eyes flickered down to his lips and he was smirking as he followed my eye line.

“Is there something you want, Sunbeam?” The little shit. It’s like my words had evaporated completely. Brain went fuzzy as his smell wrapped around me. I could do nothing but whimper. He made no other remark, only used his hand already in my hair to grip the back of my head. He growled as he smashed his lips to mine. This was nothing like the kiss from the ball. That had been exploratory and warm. This was an all consuming inferno. Burning through every ounce of self doubt I harbored. Scorching through my veins until only Eris was left. His free hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against every delicious inch of him. When I started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he still his lips. His hand went to rest over mine and I reluctantly pulled away from him. I tried not to show the hurt on my face. And he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“The first time I'm inside of you will not be outside. Nor when we're rushed. I need time to make you scream my name. For all of Priyanth to hear that you’re mine.” Something more than hunger flashed in his eyes and I felt that look deep in me.

“Eris.” I gasped out. He brushed a soft hand down the side of my face.

“You can’t say my name like that sweetheart, not when I have to sit at dinner with the rest of my court in less than an hour.” I blushed at the meaning behind his words and tried, and failed, to not look down to the front of his pants. The evidence behind his words. My tongue ran across my lips at the sight. He groaned and stepped away from me.

“You are a bad influence. But I meant what I said.” He booped my nose with his pointer finger, “ Now please go get ready for dinner.” His hand lingered on my arm for a fraction longer before he reluctantly let go.

I got dressed in a daze. A wild blush would not leave my cheeks. Everytime I managed to push away my errant thoughts, more would seep back into my mind.

Before I knew it, I had changed into a new dress and was walking side by side with Eris down to the dining room. A few members of his court were already there, talking amongst themselves. They smiled up at him as we passed. As I sat down next to him they introduced themselves in kind tones. I nodded trying to keep up with their names and faces. More people started to come in and eventually all the places at the table were filled.

There was no big speech or ceremony to start dinner. Everyone ate at the pace that they wanted to and cups of wine were being poured and shared.

A deep voice of an older male pulled me from my conversation with the female,Fern I think was her name, next to me.

“I’m still trying to figure you out.” He stated plainly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you hung around Rhysand and his cronies. Came crawling back to Day where Helion welcomed you with open arms,” I felt the room grow hotter. “So I’m simply wondering how to get you in my bed too.” One second the male had been sitting at the table and before I could even blink, he had been blasted across the room. He sat up, eyes unfocused as he put a hand to his head. All eyes turned from the male now lying on the floor to the High Lord who was picking at non-existent dirt under his nails.

“You will not speak to any female, especially guests, like that in this court. Ever. Again.” He hardly looked up at male before he evenly said, “You’re dismissed.” Two of the other members of the court scurried to his side and helped heave him to his feet. Quickly getting him out of the room.

“I’m sorry you all had to see that. There are many things I will tolerate but comments like that are not one of them.” Eris said to those remaining from his court. All of them nodded along, not fear but appreciation in their eyes. I felt my heart soften at his words. Beron would have let a comment like that slide, maybe even agreed with it. It would take a while, old habits run deep but Eris would squash that old cruelty out of the Autumn court piece by piece. The thin line of determination in his face told me that much. He turned his attention to me “Are you all right?” He quietly asked me. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and light conversations filled the silence from moments ago. I nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” His mouth set into an unamused look, anger pinching his eyebrows.

“Sunbeam, I will not allow anyone to talk to…” he took a breath, about to say something but seemingly changed his mind. “I would do it again.” I knew he was telling the truth and thanked him for his kind words.

The next few days passed too quickly. I spent the days in Eris’ presence, him waving me off when I apologized for keeping him from his duties. He assured me that making me feel as welcome as possible was a hundred percent part of his responsibilities. Both as a High Lord and a friend. Friend. I bristled at the word. Only a few more heated moments had passed throughout the days, and nothing like that night before dinner. I was wound tight and from the way his eyes kept flickering to my lips, I knew he was too. Everytime I would go to take things further, he would steal my hands or push away from me entirely. That same excuse said through gritted teeth. I didn't question it. If it happened it happened but being around him so much made it harder and harder to keep my thoughts at bay.

This was one of those moments. I was supposed to leave the next morning and my hands were currently wrapped in Eris’ hair. My back pressed firmly against the door of his room. He peppered my neck with small bites that had my blood singing for him. I didn’t reach for his shirt this time, despite the need rushing through me. I instead went to the buttons on the front of my dress. Eris all but growled, “Gods you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned into my neck. I used my grip in his hair to pull his face back to mine.

“Do you want me to?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“I would want nothing more darling but if you do, you won’t leave my bed in the morning.” He went back to kissing my neck and as he found that sweet spot right below my ear, I let the argument die on my tongue. If this was all I got from him, I would gladly take it. Regardless of how much more I wanted.

I woke up in the morning with my lips still swollen from the rough kisses the night before. I didn’t need to look at my neck to know the angry red marks that would be faded by the time I left. I sighed at the thought and curled deeper to my blankets. Shutting out the thoughts of leaving and the heaviness that creeped into my bones.

Eris and I spent the day with his hounds. We walked around the forest, me chasing after them as he hung back, throwing sticks after them. We laughed until our lungs hurt and his pack walked between us with ease, slipping in and out between our legs like they had been doing it all their lives.

It was finally time for me to leave. Helion was about to come to winnow me back to the Day Court. My bags had already been sent back. And I felt the disappointment on my face as he gave me one short kiss goodbye. As he pulled away from me it felt like the ground was being pulled from under me.

“Eris.” I called to his retreating form. When his eyes met mine it was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. It shouldn’t be possible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. This could not be happening again. I had lost this chance when my bond with Azriel had been severed. Or had I? No one had ever gone as far as I had before. I didn’t just reject the bond. Helion had pulled it from my body, completely erased it for the both of us. Did that mean I got another chance? A small voice in the back of my head remembered those dreaded words. Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. Could this be the cauldron making it right? Looking into those amber eyes, it felt right. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right before in my life. It was never like this with Azriel. He never loved me, was never going to love me. But Eris. Eris, who was always kind to me. Eris, who always greeted me first when he visited my old court during Hlyberns reign. It all made sense now. Everything had played out for this exact moment. I took a sharp inhale as I reached out through the bond, expecting that all too familiar coldness I had been greeted with all those years ago.

Eris’ eyes snapped to mine as his body jolted. His mouth parted, words seeming to fail him. The other side of the bond was not in fact empty. But full of warmth and love. Love for me. We could do nothing but gape at each other as that thread, as golden as the leaves around us, grew thicker as it stretched between us.

Tears welled in my eyes at the feeling. So much comfort and love running down the bond it almost pulled me to my knees. We both stumbled forward until our arms were wrapped around each other.

“I was so worried you would never feel it.” Eris spoke into the crown of my head.

“When…”

“The moment I saw you at the ball. The first time I saw you after you cut your bond with him.” I squeezed him as tight as my arms would allow. “I didn’t know the depth of the magic Helion had used on you, I went to talk to him after to see if it was even possible and reading that book further, we realized it was.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The sun reflecting off of them made them honey brown. He smiled at whatever emotion I accidentally sent down the bond.

“I’m happy it’s you Eris.” He looked shocked. “If I had to go through all of this for it to be you, then it was worth it. Every second of it.” Tears of his own trailed down his face and I placed my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But stay here, let me do this the right way. The way you deserved the first time.” I could do nothing but blush and nod. My throat felt tight at all the feelings, mine and his. A breathtaking smile I had only seen him give me split across his face. My feet suddenly no longer on the ground as he picked me up. My skirt billowed out around me as he swung me lightly around, like he had on the dance floor that night. I squealed in delight and buried my face into his shoulder. Inhaling his deep earth and cinnamon scent and thanked the cauldron that it didn’t always get it right. The first time.

Copying over the people I tagged in the last one! I promise this is the last one I'll tag yall in unless you ask

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch @daycourtofficial @anainkandpaper @leyannrae

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #unrequited love #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris acotar #eris fluff #eris vandaddy #autumn court #a court of thorns and roses #sunbeam oc #mate!eris #high lord eris

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