#because I already said I don’t like EITHER of them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fieldofdaisiies · 3 days

Text

azriel x eris | 1,6k words | warnings: explicit description | masterlist

“Stay like this.”

Eris crosses his arms behind his head, lying sprawled out in the large cream-coloured bed, marvelling at the view that is presented to him — his mate‘s incredible rear, his phenomenal back, and the infamous wings he loves to play with to bring out the most pleasure for his mate.

The sunlight perfectly falls onto said wings, making them appear almost a little redish. Eris’ eyes follow all the veins that are brought out due to the sunlight falling upon them and has to smile. Oh such sensitive wings, he thinks.

Azriel leans against the window and chuckles. “Naked in front of the window where everyone can see me?”

Eris’ eyes widen and his territoriality kicks in at full force. “Alright, no. Get back here!”

With his laughter hollowing through the room, Azriel returns to the bed, but before he can climb under the sheets, Eris stops him. “You know,” the High Lord says and sits up in bed, the sheets falling to his hips. He turns so he can place both his feet on the ground, sitting in a sprawl. “I have never sucked a shadowsinger’s cock.”

His hands skim over the skin of Azriel’s hips, tentatively slowly, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The spymaster’s lips form a smirk, his body relaxing in response to his mate’s touch. “What a coincidence,” he hums, “I have never had a High Lord suck my cock either.” The smirk turns into a grin.

“Good,” Eris purrs. “Let me be your first.”

His hand wraps around the base of Azriel’s already hard length, lips fastening around the crown of it and then he worships his mate, eliciting noises and words from the shadowsinger he has never heard before.

Azriel falls apart, shatters, and his soul most definitely leaves his body. He feels weightless and slumps against his mate, his mind already having entered a state of tranquillity.

Hours later, after many more rounds of love making, they both find themselves in a kind of stasis, their limbs slightly numb, their souls aching with happiness, and their bodies tightly pressed together. They are just lying together in silence, their minds at ease and calm.

Birds tweet outside, and hounds bark in response to them. It makes Eris open his eyes and he pushes up on his elbow, looking at his mate.

“Say it.” Eris bumps his nose against Azriel’s, fingers curling around the base of Azriel’s throat. “Say that you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Good boy,” Eris laughs and feels a soft smack on his backside.

“You say it,” Azriel rasps, his hand resting on his mate’s ass. “Say that you love me. Say that you want this bond with me. Say that you want to spend eternity with me.”

“I want to accept the bond with you, Azriel.” The High Lord turns his face away, takes a deep breath, and then looks at his mate again. “Because I love you, and because I want to spend every single day of my immortal life with you.” He blinks against the small tears forming in his eyes. “Will you have me as your mate?”

A grin that comes very natural splits Azriel‘s lips. “Yes, I do!”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“You worry about Cassian, don’t you?” Eris places his hand atop Azriel’s shoulder, leaning in so he can kiss the top of his mate’s head.

“He said he needs time to fully process it all, but do you think he will ever come to accept it?” Azriel‘s shoulders droop, his whole body caving in a little.

Azriel told Cassian everything — beginning from the High Lord’s meeting to them accepting the bond. And while Cassian is always understanding, good in his heart and open-minded, he didn’t say much once Azriel was finished, only that he needed a bit of time to process.

Azriel knows that this is easy. First of all he is mated to someone from a different court, and even though Night will always be his home, Autumn is his second home and he will spend a fair amount of time there as well. Secondly, his mate is not someone Cassian is very fond of, but maybe with a little more time passing, he‘ll come around to liking the Vanserra male, or at least accepting him.

“He is your best friend, Azriel, if he truly loves you, he will.” Eris is smiling when Azriel turns to him. “I know telling him wasn’t easy, but it was a good and important step into the right direction. And I know —despite me not necessarily liking him— that the brute has a good heart, and he loves you.”

Azriel glimpses up at him, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Brute?”

Eris’ eyes close and something akin to shame passes over his face. “I apologise, sometimes I still fall back into old patterns.” He gives his head a little shake. “But come now, he is waiting for you.”

Eris allows them to talk for a long time — hours most definitely before he can’t stand it anymore, the bond urging him to go to his mate who is currently alone with another male!

He joins them in the large dining room while —as it seems— Cassian is getting ready to depart.

The two Illyrians don’t notice the High Lord’s arrival, the door closing silently behind him in order to not startle them.

“You are my brother, Azriel…” Cassian wraps his strong arms around the shadowsinger.

Eris feels a pang of jealousy in his chest, his territoriality kicking in. He takes a step forward, but then stops himself, folding and unfolding his hands, while stepping from one foot to the other. He hates this feeling.

“And despite this feeling quite surreal,” —Cassian casts a quick glance at Eris— “I could never be mad at you. You are my best friend, my brother and I will accept you with all you are and all you have.”

Azriel hugs him tightly in return, saying something to Cassian that Eris can’t hear but makes Cassian chuckle.

That is when the bond starts to scream within him and Eris clears his throat.

“I see, we are quite territorial, High Lord.” The corners of the general’s lips lift into a mischievous grin and he steps away from Azriel, walking into Eris’ direction.

He reaches out his hand, ready for Eris to take it. Clasping his hand so tightly, he nearly crushes Eris‘ fingers, he shakes it. “For a better future, High Lord, and unity between our courts.” He gives his hand one more shake and then pulls Eris closer, the sheer force of the most powerful Illyrian visible in every line of his being.

“If you dare hurt him, I will break every single bone in your body and I don’t care if you are a High Lord or not, I will make it agonisingly painful for you.”

Eris bows his head in understanding. “For a better future, Lord Cassian.” He smiles and it only widens when he feels the presence of his mate next to him.

“I take it your High Lord has received my invitation already?”

This time it is Cassian who nods, pulling his hand back and folding them behind his back. “We shall meet here in a week‘s time. High Lord Thesan from Dawn will be present as well.”

The turmoil within Prythian never came, almost as if everyone seemed to be relieved about Beron’s passing. Yet, meetings with all the High Lord’s from Prythian were needed, the one with Tamlin already took place, now it was time for Dawn and Night to meet with him. And later all the other courts.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“There you go,” Eris says as he passes one of the two cups in his hands to his mate, and then claims the spot on the couch next to him, pulling the blanket over his lap.

Together they stare into the big flame crackling in the fireplace, their hands finding their way to one another without looking.

Together, they promised each other. Together they would overcome their fears and worries and they are on a good way now.

“And now?” Azriel leans into Eris, cradling the cup of tea tightly in his hand.

"Now?" Eris asks with a soft smile. "Now I need to meet my mate's mother and bring her to safety in the...Library, right?"

Azriel's eyes widen in surprise about Eris' thoughtfulness. He has had no idea that Eris would remember this detail he dropped once during a conversation.

"You-?"

"Maybe she would like to talk to my mother and this would help her. All I know is that I want her to be safe."

Azriel squeezes his mate's hand, his eyes becoming watery with tears. He can't quite believe his luck, and the back of his mouth starts to ache until a silent sob breaks free. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you," Eris answers him. He drags in a deep inhale, and glances at the fire for a moment.

“And when she is safe, we will have to face Koschei. Together.” Eris turns his head, kissing the side of Azriel’s head. “And then we have eternity waiting for us, a future, a mating bond that yet needs to be fully explored and love, Azriel.”

“That sounds good,” Azriel hums and smiles.

“It sounds perfect, my mate.” Eris hums lowly. “Eternity is only about to begin.”

tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @v3lv3tf0x @talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshi @going-through-shit @mybestfriendmademe @12334555666 @nickishadow139

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @berryzxx

#acotar #acosf #azriel #azriel x eris #azris #eris vanserra

45 notes · View notes

nite-puff · 3 days

Note

Favourite head-canons for your favourite ships/characters?

okay let me itemize this.

kiyotaka: my pr scheme headcanon. i love that headcanon for thematic reasons, and just think of the possibilities if taka ever finds out about it. if anyone wants to read up on it, here’s the link.

mondo: i love him being crafty. idk how much this counts as a headcanon because it’s pretty backed up by canon, but i digress. i love him being in touch with his artistic side. i want him to whittle and make wooden sculptures while he pursues carpentry. i want him to expand his experience in embroidery to other fiber arts. i want him to paint on walls and canvases like he would on his motorcycle. i want him to experiment with makeup outside of his eyeliner. HES JUST HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL TO BE AN ARTIST BUT HE WONT LET HIMSELF INDULGE IN IT. LET HIM BE CRAFTY.

takemichi: i love giving him survivor’s guilt after he finds out about what happened to mondo and the rest of the diamonds. he’s the last crazy diamond standing and if that doesn’t take the ultimate toll on him, then i don’t know what will. especially since his whole deal in the gang was to protect mondo. finding out mondo died, even if there was no way for him to interfere, convinces him that he failed his one job. and hearing that the diamonds have all died, EVEN if there was no way for him to interfere, convinces him that he failed the owadas even more by being a shit leader and not protecting them while mondo was at hope’s peak. i wonder what that mindset will do to him. mentally. HES SO NORMAL GUYS. anyway.

okay now to dynamic stuff

ishimondo: yes, physical touch and general acts of service will mean so much to them when they’re together, but i need to zero in on the act of cooking specifically. the act of cooking for one another is so special for them. like growing up, both mondo and kiyotaka had a tricky/bad relationship with food (with kiyotaka not having money to eat anything other than his typical rice balls and mondo not eating much due to body image issues and needing to “stay in shape”) so reaching that time in their lives when food becomes a comfort to them (due in part because of their influence on each other) is going to be so special. they know each other’s favorite foods and will cook for each other, they’ll make time to cook together and enjoy that quality time. and if they have some extra money to spend, they’ll go out and try something new with each other. i could probably make this sound better if you give me some time but just know that they get each other to appreciate food so much more and see if as something more than just a task to get done or a nuisance they have to deal with.

mondo and michi (platonic): the ultimate besties, what can i say?? michi had to deal with all the times mondo had a crush and was rejected by said crush. he practically became the ultimate shoulder to lean on as they grew up and mondo’s feelings only got bigger. when mondo would tell michi that he was gonna confess one day, michi would already be prepared with movies and snacks to help mondo get over the rejection (it’s not like michi had no faith in mondo. he just knew the chances of mondo actually getting a date were low. he’s seen how he gets when he’s nervous. he’s just being realistic). i recently came up with the scenario of how they would deal with valentine’s day. mondo would always be disappointed he didn’t get any chocolates by the end of the school day, but would never say it out loud. and michi is always tired by the end of the day with him having to lug around his bag of chocolates he’s received and having to dodge any potential confessions he saw coming (and rejecting the ones he didn’t see coming). mondo always tries to avoid talking about how he feels when he sees michi after school, but michi always catches onto mondo’s sourness. he just offers his chocolates to share with mondo without saying another word about how either of their days went. mondo always appreciates it. and they spend the rest of their day winding down and watching movies while downing michi’s entire stash (mondo always ends up having more because he has a bigger sweet tooth. michi doesn’t mind).

anyways yeah uhhh… idk if these headcanons are my most favorite (i love them all, don’t get me wrong) but they were the first ones to come to mind. hope y’all like them.

#ramblepuff #askpuff #mondo owada #kiyotaka ishimaru #takemichi yukimaru #ishimondo #danganronpa #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #AUGHHHHH!!! i love talking about the sillies!!!! they’re so-

26 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 2 days

Text

Never Not Mine

Summary: Elain Archeron has been betrothed to the seventh born son of Autumn for as long as she can remember. With her family's reputation in the balance, Elain is resigned to her fate.

That doesn't mean she has to like it…or that she has to make it easy for him.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3| Read on AO3

Elain knew she’d gotten Ayla into some trouble. For a month, her friend had been locked away in her family's chambers and when she returned, Elain noticed she winced every time she sat down.

You’re making a mess of everything, she thought morosely when Ayla wouldn’t make eye contact with her at all. Arina had retreated back into the library, leaving Elain to return to her overrun garden. She’d begun sketching it out crudely in a journal, trying to map out where things would go so she wasn’t planting blind.

Elain’s garden was the only place she felt true peace anymore. Spending time around Lucien was beginning to feel unbearable—something hot built in her throat if they were around each other too long, spilling into angry words that she couldn’t take back. Elain didn’t know why she couldn’t just be nicer or why the sight of him frustrated her the way it did.

Lucien had given her another gift just that morning—a pretty set of pearl combs she’d thanked him for before tossing them into a drawer that was increasingly becoming dedicated to the things he purchased for her. Lucien was trying, in his way. Everything he gave her was thoughtful and generous—Elain loved the simple elegance of pearls set into silver combs.

They weren’t good for gardening, at any rate—that was what she told herself as she tied a scarf around her head and headed out, prepared for another long day of ripping out weeds until she couldn’t take the seeping cold. She wasn’t alone today. There, hanging around the gates, stood Tanwen.

“Come to help?” she asked, certain he wasn’t there for any particular reason.

“Why not,” he replied, opening the iron for her before following just behind. “What do you need from me?”

“You could rip up that tree?” she suggested, pointing toward a sapling that was more weed than anything. “Or loosen up the soil with your magic?”

“Why not both?” he replied with a lopsided smile. For a while they worked in silence, digging up a pile of weeds they tossed in the center of the garden alongside all Elain’s ruined rocks. It was nice to have Tanwen there, if only to provide a little muscle when she didn’t want to exert herself so much.

“So,” Tanwen began when the skies began to darken and a gloomy fog started to roll over the hillside from the cursed forest. “Have you seen Ayla?”

It took Elain a moment to absorb his words. “I see her, but I don’t speak to her. I think she’s angry with me.”

“Ah,” Tanwen said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should take these to the stables, if you’ll…excuse me.”

Elain watched him go, hair blowing in a vicious wind. Was he asking because he’d been the one to carry her in, or because he wanted to hear more about her? Elain couldn’t be sure. It was wrong to meddle when she’d already been the cause of Ayla’s suffering and yet…

“Lucien,” Elain breathed later that night, greeting her husband sitting in a chair in the bedroom, book in hand. His eyes found her nails, caked with dirt and cracked again. Lucien’s mouth drew into a deep frown, though he said nothing.

Smart, she praised silently.

“Wife,” he replied, as if reminding her of exactly what she was to him. Elain knew they were on borrowed time—at some point she was going to have to get over herself and have sex with him. How long, she wondered? Another month, perhaps? Two? Lucien didn’t want her unwilling, but Elain couldn’t imagine a scenario in which she went to him gladly, either.

“We never had a celebration,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed once she was done with her hands.

“Why would we?” he replied, turning the page of his book without looking at her.

“Why wouldn’t we? Everyone else gets one.”

Lucien glanced up. “You want to celebrate wedded bliss?” he questioned.

Truthfully, no. It would require the two of them to be together all night, touching and dancing and smiling. Elain took a breath. “Yes, I want that. Will you ask your mother to organize it?”

Lucien stared long and hard, as if he could read her thoughts simply by willing it. Elain was careful to leave herself casual, though it did no good.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” she replied, heart picking up speed. “I just…think it’s strange we haven’t.”

Lucien took a breath. “Does this mean I can expect you to crawl into bed with me that night?”

“I get in bed with you every night,” she snapped, immediately annoyed. Elain didn’t bother mentioning that they were getting a little too accustomed to sleeping beside each other. She’d woken in the middle of the night to find Lucien’s arm flung over her stomach as he drooled into a pillow.

“You keep your night clothes on.”

They were in dangerous territory. “What are you demanding of me?”

Lucien ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m demanding nothing. You’re the one who wants to celebrate our marriage and I…” And he was simply a male. He wanted the right to touch her and perhaps considered this a good negotiation point.

“Don’t host it, then,” Elain said, turning back to the bathroom as a means to escape him. She slammed the door behind her, back against the wood as she listened for his response.

“Cauldron boil me,” he mumbled, but Lucien did nothing else. Even after Elain took a long bath, hoping he might find some other way to amuse himself, but when she came out, hair freshly braided and mostly dried, Lucien was already in bed. He seemed asleep, back facing her as it rose and fell in a steady, fluid motion. He’d pulled his hair out of the strap he’d been wearing, allowing it to cascade over his shoulders and Elain considered, not for the first time, what it might be like to let him touch her. To be curtained with the waterfall of auburn hair, to feel the muscles of his back shift as he moved…

Touch him, a little voice whispered. Elain panicked, drawing her fingers into a fist before sliding them under her body to keep her from doing so. What was wrong with her? The urge had come from nowhere, the instinct to run her finger down the length of his spine so overwhelming that Elain’s hands shook from the effort it took not to touch him.

It was his closeness, she decided as she settled into bed. His male presence and her instinctual response. Nothing more. Still, it took Elain a long time to sleep as a familiar vision crowded behind her vision.

Go away, she demanded. She didn’t want another image of Lucien’s naked form writhing atop her as her mind forced her to contend with what might be if she just gave in. He didn’t want her and Elain would be damned if she made the first move. Or second…or hundredth, actually. She woke a little before him, dressed herself, and made her way down to breakfast before Lucien could speak to her at all.

So she was surprised when the Lady of Autumn came to her, face beaming with joy. “I heard you wanted a celebration,” she said in that sweet voice of hers. The voices in the room fell to a near whisper as everyone listened in, the excitement in the room palpable.

“I would,” Elain said, wanting so badly to be the daughter The Lady of Autumn—Amera—wanted her to be. She saw the way Amera fawned over Arina, who allowed it with glowing cheeks and shiny eyes. Elain bet Arina let Amera throw her a party the morning after, even if she spent the night torturing Eris with a knife.

Elain didn’t want to think about the implications there.

Amera clapped pale, delicate hands together. “Oh, how lovely. It’ll take a bit of time to put together…would you like to help?”

“Yes,” Elain breathed, forgetting why she wanted to do this in the first place. Her own mother could be cold, calculated and careful. There had never been much warmth even for her favorites, and Elain often felt intimidated around her mother. Amera exuded the kind of warmth she’d often wished for as a child. If Amera had asked her to commit a murder, Elain was certain she would have picked up a sword and marched beneath the Lady of Autumn’s banner.

Not that Elain knew how to use a weapon. Perhaps Tanwen could teach her.

Or your husband.

“Should we get started?” Amera asked.

Elain couldn’t suppress her grin. “Nothing would delight me more.”

LUCIEN:

“How do you stand it?” Lucien demanded, interrupting Eris and Cadmus in their private parlor.

“Looking at you?” Eris replied dryly, eyes flicking up from his cards. “I manage.”

Lucien growled, earning a laugh from Conall across the room. He sat on a sofa, the picture of bored nobility while Tanwen tossed a knife up in the air. They were hiding from Beron, who had woken up in a foul mood. It was only a matter of time before he came looking for his sons.

Better to make themselves scarce and wait for the storm to pass.

“You’re very funny,” Lucien said flatly, pulling up a chair to sit with his brothers. “I mean with mother. How do you stand her fawning over Arina?”

Eris’s brows knit together. “I rather like it.”

Of fucking course he did.

“Gets her out of your hair, does it?” Tanwen taunted, clearly bored and looking for sport.

“Her mother is dead,” Eris snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. It hadn’t been more than a year since the bond had snapped and Lucien didn’t think Eris would ever stop chafing beneath it. Even a whisper of insult toward Arina was enough to set his teeth to snapping.

“Elain is planning a celebration,” Lucien informed his brothers, sinking further into his chair as he swiped a decanter of whiskey from the ornately carved table. “All mother speaks of is how sweet and lovely Elain is.”

“She is sweet,” Connall goaded. “If she were my—”

“That’s enough!” Eris barked, unwilling to mop up blood. “She would never be your wife because that would require you to be a male with honor…which you are decidedly not.”

Tanwen chuckled as Cadmus only nodded, eyes flicking from Eris to a scowling Connall. Would Cadmus break them up? That was his usual role in moments like these.

“I don’t have a wife because Elain and Arina electrocuted the only good option left to us. How is little Ayla doing these days?”

Lucien looked up at the ceiling, wondering why he bothered to talk to his brothers at all.

“She’s well,” was all Eris said, laying his cards down with a triumphant smile. Lucien, having the benefit of standing behind Cadmus, cracked a half smile knowing that Eris was outmatched. A scowl darkened Eris’s face as Cadmus chuckled, pulling coins toward his already sizable pile.

No one could outsmart Cadmus in a game of cards.

“If you’re so bothered by your wife, why not remove her from court?” Cadmus finally said, glancing over his shoulder. “Send her to the Mountain Palace, or the Seaside Palace, if you must. Send some of the ladies from court to keep her company.”

The room had suddenly become frosty, the temperature dropping by several degrees. Lucien could feel all of his brothers glaring at him, their disapproval plain. She’d won them over just as surely as she’d stolen his mother and Lucien was jealous. Elain had simply come in and charmed everyone while he’d been trying to win the approval of his family presumably from the day he’d been born.

His brothers acted as if they knew something about him he did not—he was kept just out of reach, tolerated but not one of them. They shared some secret language Lucien did not speak. It didn’t help that Lucien was also a century younger than his next oldest brother, and Eris was nearly three centuries old by the time Lucien had been a baby. They’d watched him grow up, but in his memories, they were all grown.

Why was it so hard for him and so easy for Elain?

“Enjoy yourself, little Lucien,” Connall said in that easy, flippant way of his. “If mother likes Elain, it means you’ve found yourself a keeper. From Spring, no less.”

“It’s just…”

Not what he wanted. Every eye in the room fell back to their hands, refusing to look at him. They knew, though. Even after Eris had sent Jesminda away, even after she’d told him to leave her alone, he was still holding out some sliver of hope that he was going to wake up one morning and it would be Jesminda's dark hair splayed out on the pillow.

Even after everything, he still wanted her.

Lucien knew he was a fool.

“Go to bed, Lucien,” Eris said, rising from his chair. “Go fuck your wife until you can think of nothing and no one else. And if that doesn’t work, take a mistress to amuse yourself.”

“Leave Elain alone,” Tanwen added, a sharp edge to his voice. When Lucien looked around, he found his brothers all looking at him again, their eyes matching Tanwen’s tone.

Right.

She was one of them, but he was not. Lucien strode from the room, determined not to take Eris’s advice. Cadmus’ held promise, though. What if he sent her away after the celebration? Eris would never agree to let Arina join her, but Ayla would likely be allowed. Hells, Elain could hand pick the ladies she wanted to accompany her. And if she picked up with some sentry, well. Lucien didn’t care.

I’ll kill any male who touches her—

Lucien exhaled with frustration, making his way back to his bedchambers where he found Elain seated at a table staring at several different color swatches. She looked up when he walked into the room and without thinking, offered him a pretty half smile.

“Come help me,” she said as Lucien stood there agape. Was Elain willingly asking him to sit in her company? She typically darted off anytime he walked into a room. Lucien walked to her, waiting for the spell to shatter and her to realize it was him and not one of the brothers she preferred.

“What do you need help with?”

“These different shades of pink,” she said, a frown tugging the corners of her pretty mouth. “I hate them all.”

“So do I,” Lucien admitted, drinking in the rosy, spring shades. “What is your theme?”

Elain’s cheeks heated. “Old meets new.”

Spring meets Autumn, he supposed. Elain fidgeted with one of the squares of cloth, unable to meet his gaze.

“Perhaps something darker?” he offered. “More maroon than pink?”

“I thought the same thing,” Elain admitted, setting the little square back on the table. “But your mother has this vision of pink and silver and I don’t want to disappoint her.

“Trust me when I say you’ll disappoint her far more if you let her dress you in something you don’t like.”

“She’s been so nice,” Elain admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. “She’s like my mother if…”

Lucien held his breath, waiting for Elain to finish.

“Nevermind,” she said with a sigh, gathering up her swatches. “I—”

“No,” he breathed, strangely desperate. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing, I promise,” she said, but Lucien wasn’t going to be deterred. He’d take anything, any little piece of information that would give him a more solid footing with the stranger he called a wife. They’d been married for nearly two weeks and Lucien knew practically nothing about her. Elain didn’t give up her secrets easily and in her defense, Lucien hadn’t tried to make conversation with her, either.

“Tell me anyway.”

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?” she said, bracing herself against the table. Lucien scooted closer as Elain lifted herself atop it, legs swinging sweetly. He wanted to get on his knees, wanted to slide his hand up her slim calves and—

“No. So you may as well just tell me,” he said, flashing her what he hoped was a charming grin.

“Your mother is like my mother if she was warm,” Elain managed, eyes latching on a painting across the room.

“Your mother is unkind?”

“No, not unkind, just…” Elain bit her bottom lip again. “Spring is a lot like a vipers nest, and you have to think like one if you want to survive. My mother is queen of the vipers, I suppose. She wasn’t cruel, but…we all had our parts to play, clearly.”

“Why did you go first?” Lucien asked, giving voice to the question that had plagued him since she’d first been sent to him. “Why not your older sister?”

Elain sighed. “The High Lord delays the match. He’s angling for Feyre, but the humiliation of spurning Nesta would ruin all of us. I think mother wanted to see me gone just in case he decided to spit in the face of tradition.”

“Tamlin loves tradition,” Lucien said softly. “If he promised to marry Nesta, he will.”

Elain nodded, though it was clear she didn’t agree. Whatever was going on over there, Elain certainly knew it better. Still, it was nice to have some context to the marriage. Elain had agreed, even though she didn’t want to, to ensure her sister's futures, too. There was something strangely lovely about it.

Or maybe it was just the insight that Lucien appreciated. He didn’t understand Elain at all, especially knowing her father likely would have intervened if she’d begged. Sometimes, Lucien imagined that Elain had come simply to torment him, even if deep down he knew that wasn’t true.

She’d come because she loved her family. That made it a little harder to dislike her. Would Lucien have done the same for his brothers? He genuinely couldn’t say, though he suspected he wouldn’t have. Not that it mattered—males weren’t held to the same standards as females. If Lucien had ruined his engagement, Elain would have been tainted in the process but he would have come out unscathed.

“If you want, I can talk to mother,” Lucien offered, wanting to do something for Elain that wasn’t half apology. He felt earnest—hopeful, even. “Soften the blow.”

Elain offered him a half smile that made her even more beautiful than usual. Lucien was terrified of the day she gave him a full smile, wholly directed at him. Would he survive it? Lucien wasn’t sure he’d survive any of this because Elain was his mate, and he had the terrible feeling that if he got to know her, he’d like her.

It was a constant war between not wanting her at all and wanting her so badly it made his teeth ache. It was going to be like this for his entire life. Lucien understood why so many gave in to the bond. A not small part of him wanted to. Wanted to throw himself at her feet and demand to know why she hadn’t told him if she felt it, too. And another part wanted…well. Wanted to know if she’d like her if he didn’t have that thread tugging in his chest. His heart pounded out a steady, consistent beat: mine, mine, mine.

“I can do it,” she said, rising from her chair while stretching out her neck. “I don’t want her to think I don’t respect her.”

“She wouldn’t think that,” Lucien assured her, though he appreciated Elain was willing to have a personally uncomfortable conversation.

“All the same,” Elain said blithely, eyes still dancing even when her mouth had flattened into a neutral expression. She was so fucking pretty.

“Well. Tell me the colors so I don’t embarrass you,” he said, hoping, once again, he was coming off as charming and not demanding. Elain glanced over her shoulder, a curl ghosting over her cheek.

“Whatever you say.”

She turned for the bedroom, leaving Lucien to trail helplessly behind her.

ELAIN:

If everything went according to plan, Tanwen would ask Ayla to dance. They’d look at each other. Maybe even speak, assuming Tanwen could move both his feet and lips at the same time. Maybe they’d kiss, if the night went well, and Tanwen would realize he was madly in love with Ayla and Elain could spend the rest of her time arranging their marriage to take her mind off her own.

The Lady of Autumn had gone all out—the ballroom was packed with people from a myriad of courts, including her own. She’d seen Nesta floating around in a gown made of spun silver—a match for the blue of her sharp eyes. If Nesta was there, Feyre was, too, likely exploring some hidden area of the palace she shouldn’t be in. Elain had seen a few Day Court courtiers flock to Arina, their eyes lined with kohl, dressed in bright, breezy linens that seemed strangely out of place around Arina.

Elain had taken Lucien’s advice, told his mother she didn’t like the rose color that had been chosen and ended up in a blood red gown that she never would have chosen for herself, once upon a time. When Amera presented it to Elain, setting the silk gown gently on the bed, Elain’s heart had thrummed.

Feyre would have worn it. Nesta, too. Her sisters were bolder, less afraid of making a statement. She wanted to be the kind of female who wore things like that, though. It was modest enough, with the off-shoulder sleeves that revealed freckled skin and delicate collarbones without even a hint of cleavage. The bodice was tight, the sides embroidered in gold flowers that made it seem as if her waist was pulled in smaller, creating the illusion of real curves.

She’d pulled her hair off her face with the pearl combs Lucien had given her as a show of good faith given how nice he’d been over the last few days. Not friendly, exactly, but nicer than he’d been since they’d met. He was looking at her when he spoke to her, which felt like a major improvement.

She hadn’t seen him yet, though the night was still early—plenty of time for Lucien to embarrass her yet.

Floating through the throngs of people, the smell of sticky pastries and wine in the air, Elain tried to find Ayla. Her friend had sworn she’d be there, as had Tanwen after a lot of cajoling and pleading.

Who will dance with me? she’d asked, making her eyes big and round. Tanwen, unused to being manipulated by a female, had folded almost immediately though he’d grumbled that he didn’t dance. Not with her, perhaps—but someone else? Elain didn’t believe he was above courting entirely given the rumors she’d heard floating around.

The Vanserra’s had a reputation and if Elain had to guess, she’d bet she was one of the few people left that had no idea what it was like to be underneath one.

“There you are,” Lucien’s warm voice murmured as his fingers brushed the tops of her shoulder. Elain turned and immediately wished she hadn’t. Lucien had asked what color she was wearing and Elain had said red and yet somehow, he’d managed to coordinate his jacket to the exact shade of her dress.

Fuck him, she thought privately as she took in the well-tailored fabric fitted to his broad, muscular chest. His boots gleamed beneath the faelights, cut up to his knees before giving way to black pants that showed off powerful thighs. He wore a gold band around his ring finger and he’d half braided his hair off his face much like Elain had done with the combs. He looked…he looked good.

Beautiful, even, in a roguish kind of way.

“Were you looking for me?” Elain asked, noting that Lucien was looking at her much like she’d just done. His eyes darkened, scent sharpening and oh. This wasn’t a good time for him to realize he was sexually attracted to her.

Lucien cleared his throat, eyes returning to her face. “It’s our celebration, I figured we ought to be seen together. Happy,” he added with a frown.

Elain couldn’t help her laugh. The whole thing was absurd. “Well, you’re truly selling it.”

Lucien blinked. “Are you going to tell me what this is in service of, now?”

“You don’t believe I’m so incandescently happy?” Elain teased, gaze snagging on the High Lord. She hadn’t expected Beron Vanserra to come, but there he was, arm linked with his wife and brown eyes bright as he listened to her speak. Elain was terrified of Beron and his shows of temper, his violence, and the bruises Elain often caught on Amera’s body when her sleeves slid up her wrists.

And yet here, he was the picture of adoration. Was it possible to love someone you hated? Elain turned, catching her husband also watching with a disdainful expression on his face. He didn’t bother hiding it, and Beron didn’t notice. Elain had heard Beron was preoccupied with Eris and Cadmus, but paid little attention to Connall and Tanwen and practically none at all to Lucien. To Elain, that seemed like a best case scenario, but maybe Lucien resented his fathers disinterest.

Or maybe he resented the way Beron terrorized his family.

She’d never asked, determined not to make it her business.

Lucien rolled his eyes, returning to their conversation as his fingers skimmed down her spine. He’d been touching her more often—absent gestures she wasn’t certain he was even aware he did. Every time his skin met hers, Elain’s whole body ignited with interest, which prompted her to try, desperately, to avoid his touch. What would Lucien do if he ever caught a whiff of her changing scent?

Elain knew she was on borrowed time, that eventually there would be questions about what they did when they were alone. The expectation of children would begin to arise and Elain would have to bow to the pressure and at least try. It had taken her own parents nearly five decades to conceive Nesta and Elain expected it would take her just as long, even if she and Lucien put themselves on a strict schedule.

What was worse was the thought that she might enjoy it. The vision persisted, lingering in her mind as it taunted.

You could be happy if you made different choices.

Lucien's fingers stilled at the small of her back, as though he realized how far he’d drifted and knew he was in danger.

“Tell me the truth,” Lucien murmured, leading the two of them through the throngs of people dancing to soft music played by musicians seated in elegant chairs. Cool air blew in from the open windows and some brave souls donned cloaks before sneaking out toward the garden for a moment alone.

Elain would bet that's where Feyre was.

“We deserve a little celebration, Lucien,” she said, turning abruptly for the garden just to see what her sister was doing. The last thing she needed was for Eris to find Feyre poking through something and start an international incident like that one time Feyre had been permitted to join their father in Winter.

“Elain—”

“Why does it bother you?” she asked without malice, letting him trail after her as they made their way into the dark. A pillar half hid a couple furiously kissing, the smell of salt and desire half choking Elain. Lucien coughed, for all the good it did—the pair broke apart to look at them before deciding they didn’t care if they had an audience. Elain scurried toward the grounds when the male dropped to his knees, head ducking beneath a skirt. Behind her, Lucien muttered something she couldn’t quite make out, though it sounded disapproving.

“What if I wanted to help whatever scheme you’re currently working through?” he responded, jogging up beside her. “Did that occur to you?”

Elain’s steps slowed. It hadn’t. “I’m trying to set up your brother.”

Lucien’s brow furrowed. “Which one?”

“Tanwen.”

He laughed, which annoyed her. “What?”

“Tanwen? Elain, if you want to set him up, you need to hide her in the woods for him to find.”

“He said he’d dance,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced off with Lucien. The grass was damp, the wet bleeding through the soft fabric of her shoes. Unlike Lucien who had layers beneath his jacket, Elain merely had the thin fabric of her gown. Lucien looked warm, and some part of her wanted to close the distance between them and fold herself against his body.

“Did you use your feminine wiles on him? Poor Tanwen,” Lucien teased, poking her in the stomach.

Elain scented something strange just as she was about to retort—sea salt and citrus, wholly out of place in the Autumn wood. Lucien, too, caught the scent of it, his eyes flicking up over Elain’s head as one hand came out to half pull her against his body. She’d been right—Lucien was warm.

A moment later, Feyre Archeron appeared looking dazed and pale. Elain’s sister had merely stepped out of a rip in the world, trailing star-flecked shadows behind her as she went. There was no one with her—just Feyre, who could apparently winnow. Elain had never known that.

“Are you okay?” Elain asked when Feyre passed. Her sister started, eyes bright like the moon.

“Of course,” she said, her tone strangely breathless. “I was…lost.”

“Lost.” Lucien repeated, his tone rich with disbelief. “Where were you going?”

“I…out,” Feyre finally said, practically floating away from them. Both Elain and Lucien watched and she suspected if she’d turned to look at him, they’d be wearing matching expressions of confusion.

“That…was strange,” Lucien finally said, releasing Elain from his grip. She took a step away on instinct, desperate for a breath of air not tainted by the soft, masculine scent of him. “Is she always like that?”

Elain wanted to assure him that Feyre wasn’t, but… “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. It was pretty par for the course for Feyre to slip off and keep secrets about her magic. If Feyre could winnow and hadn’t told anyone, it was for a reason. Elain certainly wasn’t going to divulge that information.

“Come on,” Lucien murmured, and she swore when she looked at him, a faint glow emanating off the edges of his skin. She blinked and it was gone, fading to a memory she couldn’t quite recall. Had she seen it? Or had she merely imagined it?

“You’re shivering,” Lucien added when Elain didn’t move, reaching for her once again. He couldn’t keep touching her—he was wearing down her resolve. One of these days Lucien might put his hands on her and she’d thank him for it.

Something in her wanted to make him work harder, even if it was inevitable. She wanted to like him, at least, before he took her clothes off her. And more than that, Elain wanted Lucien to like her, too. She was certain he didn’t—not really. What she found gazing back at her when she looked at him was merely acceptance. He’d made his peace with this marriage, something he should have done the moment he found himself standing at the priestesses altar, and was ready to get on with things.

Elain followed Lucien back into the bright, dizzying warmth, eyes scanning the room for both her sisters and Tanwen. She found Ayla, dressed in rich burgundy chatting with a male whose name escaped her. She saw Connall leaned against a pillar holding court while a semi-circle of females laughed at something undoubtedly stupid he’d said.

Cadmus and Eris patrolled the edges of the room, talking among themselves even as Eris’s eyes continued to slide to his mate, giggling with some of the females that routinely came to Ayla’s card games.

But no Tanwen. Lucien must have realized it, too, because his fingers brushed the back of her hand. “Told you.” It was the wrong thing to say to her right then. His touch, combined with her own confusing mix of emotions, caused a rush of anger to flood through her. Elain’s attraction to him, the closeness of his body, the way she swore she saw him looking at her at times—all of it was too much.

“That was uncalled for,” she hissed, grateful when he didn’t follow behind her. Elain didn’t turn to look at him, either.

She knew he was watching.

She could feel it.

LUCIEN:

“You’re an asshole,” Lucien began, snatching the weapon from his brothers hand before Tanwen could take a swing. Tanwen turned, brows raised.

“For what?”

“You told Elain you’d dance with her,” Lucien reminded him, almost telling his brother the truth of the matter. Lucien very much doubted Elain would be forgiving if she learned he’d messed up her little plan—even if Lucien thought it was ridiculous.

Tanwen blew out a breath. “I don’t dance.”

“It was one dance.”

“You dance with her,” Tanwen retorted, reaching for the axe but Lucien held it just out of reach. They were matched for height and likely matched in strength, though Lucien knew from experience that if Tanwen wanted to hurt him, it would be relatively easy for him to do so. In his youth, he’d tried to take on all his brothers to disastrous results. Besides, if he limped back into the house with a bruised eye and busted lip, Elain would know that he’d been meddling to help her.

It might make her like him a little better…and Lucien didn’t want her to know he was trying as hard as he was. He couldn’t explain it—call it petulance, call it his own inner angst, but Lucien wanted Elain to simply wake up one day desperate and needy from the bond and court him a little, too.

“You made a promise,” Lucien pressed, tossing the axe to the damp, leafy ground beside his brother.

“I fucking hate that shit,” Tanwen snapped, running a hand over his messy hair. “The people, the noise, I—” he took a breath. “I tried, alright? But someone tried to talk to me and I couldn’t do it. If you want me to make it up to your wife, though—”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Lucien warned, temper flaring. Lucien was coming to the realization that he likely couldn’t spend another month sleeping in the same bed as his mate without touching her. He toyed with the idea of creating some kind of bargain between them in which he was allowed to have her in the evenings and she could do whatever she liked with the rest of her time. But Lucien’s treacherous mind betrayed him, conjuring images of her taking a lover and he became restless and angry all over again. In his mind, Lucien was allowed to have her however he wanted her, but ultimately bore no responsibility toward her as he figured out his own feelings.

To make matters worse, every time he pictured Elain, his guilty thoughts bled Jesminda into the image until Lucien was frustrated with himself—Jesminda had told him to move on. Move on. It was taking too long, the heartbreak making a fool out of him. How did people get over it? Did they ever?

Or maybe you’re scared you’ll move on and be fine, a traitor's voice whispered in his mind. Maybe you’re afraid you’d be happy if you let yourself.

“Shut up,” he mumbled under his breath.

Tawnen glanced at Lucien, rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry if I upset Elain,” Tanwen conceded, though he didn’t look too shamed. “I’ll make it up to her.” Lucien doubted it, though, given his wife was very much trying to set Tanwen up. He trusted she’d find some new little scheme to put them back in the same room. Begrudgingly, he had to admit the thought of Elain trying to set Tanwen up amused him, if only because Tanwen was the most oblivious of the bunch. If he had his way, he’d abandon court entirely for some cottage in the woods and live entirely off the land. Tanwen would have thrived as governor of the rural counties of Autumn, though that post belonged to Connall, technically.

Beron sent Tanwen to their biggest port city and forced him to oversee the people there, knowing Tanwen hated the politics just as he knew counting crops bored Connall to tears. It wasn’t about learning anything, either. He simply liked making his sons suffer for his amusement. Lucien wasn’t allowed any leadership positions—Beron said he didn’t have enough cities, though Lucien knew that Beron simply didn’t like him and did not want to nurture any potential High Lord qualities in Lucien that might unseat Eris or Cadmus.

Lucien left Tanwen to his weapons, meandering even when he knew where he was going. He wanted the pretense of stumbling upon her, of seeing her with her hair tied off her face with a pink bandana, hands buried in soil. Lucien found her dressed in a rich purple, hem pooled around her knees as she plunged a little trowel into the earth.

She wore his gloves. Lucien’s heart raced at the sight of them, once tossed carelessly in a drawer along with everything else. She’d worn his combs the night before, his gloves today…Lucien took a breath. Elain was softening. Maybe he could bend a little, too. Pushing open the gate, Lucien made his way toward her.

“Planting?” he asked, noting the bed of weeds had been cleared out of the space. It must have taken her hours to do it.

Elain glanced up, a bead of sweat sliding down her brow. He wanted to taste it. “Your brothers helped clear this place out,” she said sweetly, rising up to sit on her heels. “It’s made things go faster.”

“What are you planting?”

“Here? Aster,” she said, showing him the little trays of budding plants she’d clearly been growing herself. “I’ve mapped it all out. Would you like to see?”

“Yes,” he breathed, coming close enough their knees brushed when he lowered himself to the ground. Elain pulled out a little journal and a rolled up piece of paper that she spread out for him.

Lucien recognized Cadmus’ work, sketched out beside Elain’s looping, pretty handwriting.

“Your brother painted it for me,” Elain admitted, running her fingers over the pretty watercolors that graced the page. I showed him my layout and he put it together.

“We should frame this when you’re finished,” Lucien murmured, thinking it really was lovely.

Elain’s eyes were bright. “Really?”

He didn’t like that creeping hope in her voice—her belief that he wasn’t a kind male, and didn’t care about her at all. It wasn’t true, though Lucien knew he’d done very little to disabuse her of the notion.

“Of course,” he replied, trying to keep his voice light and nonchalant. “You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Elain tucked a curl behind her ear. “It’s just a garden, it’s not as if—”

“It’s important,” Lucien interrupted, tone gentle but firm. “Beautiful, too.”

Elain’s cheeks flushed, eyes slipping back to the ground. “That’s…thank you, Lucien.”

“Can I help?” he asked, deciding to push his luck. What did it hurt, he reasoned, to try and get to know his wife? His mate?

Biting her bottom lip, Elain nodded. “That would be nice.”

“I saw Tanwen this morning,” Lucien said, adopting a lighter, more gossipy tone. Elain’s eyes lit up.

“Did you tell him he ruined my night?” Elain demanded with a grin. “Winston occupied nearly all of Ayla’s time.”

“Winston,” Lucien grumbled, though in truth he had no issue with the lord. Winston was perfectly polite, in a bland kind of way. He was the kind of male Ayla could boss around and dominate, which wasn’t the worst position to be in given how Autumn viewed females. It was the closest thing to autonomy Ayla could hope for.

“Right?” Elain agreed, taking one of the little plants from him to nestle it gently in the dirt. “He’s so…”

“Agreed,” Lucien replied, heart thudding in his throat. “Could I offer you some advice?”

“Please,” she replied, eyes darting to him again. The urge to push her into the dirt and cover her mouth with his own reared through him with an intensity so hot that Lucien could feel his cock stir in his pants.

Calm yourself, he ordered.

“Consider an activity that Tanwen is interested in.”

“Like what?”

“What is the game you, Arina, and Ayla are always organizing on the lawn?”

“It’s a bit like tag, but less rough,” Elain admitted, cheeks flushing again.

“So why not a larger game?” Lucien suggested, mind racing with possibilities. “Or, perhaps something more akin to hide and seek. That could be romantic.”

Elain’s brows raised. “You’re quite clever.”

He grinned. “I’ll take the compliment.”

“How would we ensure we get them alone?”

“Easy enough. You and I will hide somewhere together—somewhere only I know,” Lucien added, his heart picking up again. He knew the exact tree he’d put her in, ancient and hollowed out by a High Lords son long since dead. Lucien had spent years hiding there as a child, reading and writing and otherwise daydreaming about more interesting adventures. With Elain, the space would feel smaller…perhaps he’d take the opportunity to truly touch her. Run his knuckles over her cheek, his nose along the curve of her neck.

“And Arina?”

Lucien snorted. “Eris won’t be able to help himself.”

Elain wrinkled her nose, scrunching the little freckles adorably. “Ew.”

“And Tanwen considers himself an expert tracker. Finding Ayla will be easiest, because she won’t be masked by another male's scent. And maybe, once they’re alone…”

Elain clapped her hands in front of her chest, giving him an excuse to look at the soft swell of her breasts. Elain was far too appealing, mate or not, and Lucien had the sinking suspicion he’d want her even without the cord currently wrapped around his throat.

Squashing his guilt, Lucien took a breath.

Unaware of his inner torment, Elain offered him a smile. “Okay. I like this plan—give me a few days to put it together so it seems natural and not too suspicious.”

“Naturally.”

“And you’ll join?”

“Nothing would amuse me more than to see Tanwen fall prey to the very court scheming he loathes.”

“You make it sound so sinister. I merely want him to find happiness,” she said, unaware that Ayla was the kind of female Tanwen had made a habit of ignoring. He could see her with Cadmus, perhaps, if Cadmus ever deigned to smile or have a moment of fun. Connall was too busy fucking his way through Prythian to ever consider a wife and truthfully, was likely to make someone very unhappy given how little he thought of commitment.

“And you think Ayla is his happiness?” Lucien questioned.

Elain only shrugged. “Maybe. It doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

Lucien began digging out Elain’s next chalk mark as she carefully replanted, not willing to look at her. “I suppose not,” he murmured, feeling as if she were speaking to him as well. You’re not trying at all, he swore her voice accused which wasn’t true. He’d given her gifts, hadn’t he? He was sitting outside despite the biting chill, hands without gloves, dirt gathering beneath his nails.

Lucien wondered if she couldn’t sense his hesitation, his indecision. What did she feel? He was desperate to know. Experimentally, he pulled on the bond just to see what she’d do. Elain’s brow furrowed, hand flying to her chest to rub.

“Are you well?” he asked. Tell me you feel what I feel.

“I may have strained myself,” she admitted, hand falling to her lap. “Or perhaps I’m coming down with something.”

Lucien bit back his sigh. She felt it, but didn’t realize what was happening. Perhaps that was a blessing, then. He wondered if the snapping had felt different for her, or had been masked by her other emotions, lost to the swirl of fear and anxiety. How did he tell her without upsetting her? Could he?

“You should take it easier,” he murmured, unsure how she’d even go about doing that. “Rest more.”

Elain bit her bottom lips, gaze far away. “I feel like all I do is rest. I garden, I go about with my friends, I eat, I sleep. Hardly exerting.” Interesting. “What would you like to be doing, then?”

She considered this, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Travel?”

Lucien’s whole body tightened. Was that it? His disbelief must have shown on his face because she quickly added, “I heard the continent had tulip fields as big as a sea.”

“I’ve never seen them,” he admitted, mind racing, “I’d like to, though.”

“Maybe we could go?” she suggested.

Lucien resisted the urge to crush her against him. “Whatever you like.”

It was a start.

#elucien #im a day late and i fear this is terribly uninteresting #a filler episode before we get to the touching

42 notes · View notes

mazzystar24 · 2 days

Note

exactly! i wanted to like tommy tbh i liked him in 703 and 704. 705 was meh to me. i couldnt really find it in myself to care because the entire episode was about buck freaking out about telling eddie. 706 just made me ???? because of the bachelor party scenes. like why are we having the new bf dismiss buck at every turn while eddie is all in if they want us to root for this man. he wouldve had to change at work anyway so why didnt he dress up. then again in 709 he’s just shooting down bucks joy with the “enjoy it while it lasts” thing and then we already discussed 710. like sure buck made it a bit jokey but then tommy sounded completely serious when he said “no i dont. i hope you do though!” im someone who’s very sarcastic in her own humor and i couldnt tell he was joking. like i get that they want tommy to be snarky or whatever but something about it just falls flat for me. some of the comments he makes feel like stuff he shouldn’t feel comfortable saying yet to someone he’s only started seeing in the past couple months.

also the evan thing confuses me because lou said on cameo the script supervisor told him he isnt allowed to call buck ‘buck’. i wonder if thatll ever be addressed in s8 because that feels weird to me. especially since buck has insisted people call him buck in the past but idk if thats even anything to actually think about. like im not sure if the writers just dont know what to do with this man or if they’re actually writing him to be a short term thing. its so easy to add depth to their relationship and open up a chance to be vulnerable but they either choose not to entirely or give those moments to eddie -birthmark anon

NO SAME LIKE I AM DOWN FOR RIVAL LOVE INTERESTS TO MY SHIPS IF THEYRE WRITTEN WELL

I WAS MID TYPING I HOPE YOU DONT SEE THIS YET

Like I made a whole post about how the show bones had Hannah and she was the best and the way they wrote her made her GENUINELY likeable

And 911 couldve pulled that off so easily with Tommy but just keep choosing not to??? Like they are making (imo) very intentional writing choices that just don’t develop him or bucktommy very well when they could literally just NOT make those choices like they’re fully in control so while these things are realistic and can have good explanations the writers are intentionally choosing to include them and write them a specific way

Like idk about you but if I wanted people to aim for my couple I would go about it VERY differently

#911 #evan buckley #buddie #911 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #911onfox #evan buck buckley #anti bucktommy #anti tommy kinard #911 discourse #fandom discourse #asks open #send asks #my asks #send me asks #answered asks #asks

32 notes · View notes

our-aroace-experience · 3 days

Note

Hi, I love this blog tysm for running it!

I have a friend that I used to be very close to, but since I came out to her as aroace she keeps saying/doing weird things? And sometimes I think her real issue might be with me being aromantic, but she always references me being asexual? Idk she could have an issue with both, but we have other ace friends and she’s never treated them weirdly and I’m the only one who’s aroace.

Anyways she “accidentally” outed me to a girl that we were casually hanging out with. She says she didn’t even realize she’d done it, but she directly said it multiple times and worked it into multiple stories within a pretty brief timeframe. I confronted her about it later and she apologized and said she thinks she did it (again accidentally) because she was sleep deprived and defending me because this girl had previously not liked me and been rude to me the day before because I didn’t reciprocate her friend’s crush on me. My friend apparently wanted to make sure this girl knew it “wasn’t my fault I didn’t like him back”. Which is like oddly infantilizing, I think? It wouldn’t be my fault or morally wrong for me to not like him back even if I was straight. And it’s not like I was ever mean to him about it, we were friends for a bit, too. (He has a gf now and we don’t really talk anymore.)

And this isn’t the first time my friend has done something like this either. When I was first figuring it out she seemed really happy for me, but we’d be at parties or hanging out with people and she’d start telling a story and then remember that me being ace was relevant to the story and would pause and ask in front of the person if I was okay with them knowing, which kind of defeats the purpose. Like what am I going to do? Say no? They already know that something is up, at that point I’m just clarifying what.

And I complained to her about how another close friend had developed a crush on me and how things got really tense and awkward between me and him because we weren’t communicating well and when I told her I just wanted him and I to be close friends like we had been before his crush, she told me I couldn’t expect that level of emotional intimacy without having sex. Which is probably a bad sign for all of her relationships.

I like being aroace a lot and it’s not something I’m ashamed of, but it also isn’t anyone I don’t want to know’s business. I’m not out to my family because I’m scared of how they’d react to me being queer, so it makes me really nervous that my “best friend” accidentally outs me to people. And it makes me sad because she was the first person I told.

i’m sorry to hear it, i hope things improve for you! maybe try telling your friend not to bring it up if you haven’t already?

#our aroace experience #aromantic #aro #asexual #ace #aroace #aroace asks #long post

30 notes · View notes

hacked-by-jake · 3 days

Note

SPOILER

So...I just I just ended the first episode of Moonvale (and my thoughts on some point I already express it)....when I saw the screen glitching at the end and Alan bodycam's recording the backpack...I IMMEDIATELY knew it was Jake...

THANK YOU EVERBYTE FOR MAKING JAKE SURVIVE 💚💚💚💚💚

I have still some point I would like to talk with you... like what Charlie have to tell us?? Maybe he knows Jake?? Or Richy?? And I still have question form Duskwood... like I would like to know if Phil got discharged from prison?? Who gave Hannah our number and why??

And for the Everbyte dilemma...I really hope they would change the game purpose and restore the Duskwood idea's of the package for the all game

When I saw the first glitch, I was like "Wt-" and then the second glitch came and I immediately knew what is going to happen and my 'Wt' ended with "OH MY GOD!" I immediately started gasping and almost wanted to throw away my phone with excitement. Then it said "new message incoming" and the next second I saw Alan's cam and was a bit confused at first and then I was ready for everything.

At first I actually thought we're going to see Alan chasing Jake through the forest which would have been sooo cool as well but I loved how Everbyte decided to do it. It was seriously everything needed and wanted. 😩

I never thought they would make him die but still, always a little worry in the back of my head. But now I'm just a silly little happy fangirl and this ending have me so much motivation and I love it.

About the thing with Charlie, I link you this post here because I have already talked in much more detail and I certainly can not remember everything I said. And it would only be a repetition.

But I can say that I have absolutely no idea what this means. I have so many questions and theories in my head but somehow I don’t believe in most of them myself.

Just another really mean Everbyte thing to give us this grudge and then to say "Yes, see you later, we’ll talk about it again in the next episode" and then we have to wait and worry again. It really is torture!

And I’m pretty sure we’ll get things answered. As long as they have not forgotten this promise as well...

But no, I think the side story will definitely not be too short and we will have to deal with it in the next episodes and hopefully find out everything. I mean, Everbyte took good care of Duskwood, I hope they brought that to Moonvale.

Personally, I would much rather have a real premium version again, even if I��m sorry for those who can’t afford it. I don’t want to have such inequality and such an advantage but as we have noticed now it is still not so easy to get through the game without paying money. No one is happy about it, and makes it unfair either way.

While some can buy gems, others can’t, it’s simply unfair to everyone. And I also hope that Everbyte will change their mind and bring back a little more from Duskwood.

Everything that has happened is still a bit confusing to me and even if I'm calmer, the disappointment is still there. And I really hope they will give us some of the Duskwood vibe back.

Otherwise, I just hope that you also liked the story of Moonvale itself and that you had a really nice game experience besides of everything around it.

And of course, thank you a lot for sharing your opinion with me/us. I really enjoyed reading it and it's especially wonderful to see other people being happy about Jake as well. 🤭

Have a wonderful day/evening/night! 💚

#jihobixarmy #moonvale #moonvale thoughts #moonvale game #moonvale episode 1 #moonvale episode 1 spoiler #moonvale spoiler #moonvale criticism #moonvale jake #duskwood side story #duskwood jake #hbj mv x dw answers #hbj mv answers #everbyte studio #everbyte game #everbyte moonvale #moonvale everbyte

22 notes · View notes

wintfleur · 1 day

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/wintfleur/752044949992882176/i-wanna-plan-stella-and-rutgers-future-send-in

I feel like Rutger is going to go to the nhl next year so Stella and Rutger have to do long distance her senior year.

Doing long distance was hard on them but Stella would go bust him at least every month. When hockey season is over I just imagine them going to look at apartments. They are so excited to live together and start this new chapter in their lives. Also Rutger is spoiling her with his now professional paychecks and is getting anything Stella wants in their apartment.

a/n ﹒omg pls I also think he’s going to sign next year 😭

au masterlist - you can find everything under #👩🏻‍🎨 ͡ ꒱ Stella Hughes!

I feel like it would be hard for them to get used to long distance , they are very attached to each other , physically and emotionally , so it would be hard for them to get used to not seeing each other every day. (I definitely plan on writing some angst) I can just imagine rut coming home from a bad game and he’s just so sad and wishes Stella could hold him but instead he lays alone in bed , he doesn’t call Stella because he knows it’s late for her and he wants her to get some good rest . . . he just looks at pictures of them :(

I feel like her brothers would get a little annoyed that she doesn’t come to visit them as much anymore because now she’s always visiting either any chance she can. Like they understand but they also really miss her. I also feel like they would be understanding but a little nervous about her going to move in with rutger !! Like it’s hard for them to fathom that their little sister is all grown up and looking for apartments with her boyfriend . . . Like it’s crazy to them.

Stella would honestly be so excited to go apartment hunting with Rutger !! She’s such a domestic person , she loves the whole family life , waking up and making breakfast together , all of that !! It would definitely take them a little to find the perfect apartment. Like it would need to have what they both want. 3 bedrooms, one for there room, a guest bedroom, an extra room for Stella’s art studio (she said she didn’t need one but Rutger is very clear they they need one) they also like a lot of windows , and a big kitchen !! But after some time they find the most perfect apartment , they also have a greatttt time decorating the apartment and picking all the furniture.

Ellen definitely flys out to help !! Helping make sure they get everything the need , she’s the best mom :(

But yes Rutger is definitely spoiling his girl , they go shopping with Ellen and Stella is just pointing at things and Ellen is like ‘sweetie you don’t need a pink kitchen aid , you already have a pistachio one’ and then when they both turn around Rutger is putting it in the cart !!

Awe and omg they have a housewarming party :(

°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lovings4turn @bunbunbl0gs @petite-potato4 @winterbarnesblog @yoontwin )

#👩🏻‍🎨 ͡ ꒱ stella hughes!#💌stellahughes!#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!#hughes!oc #hughes!sister

34 notes · View notes

bagerfluff · 19 hours

Text

Collared Casper

Sub/Bottom Casper x Top/Dom Male Reader

Prompt - Collar

Warnings - Pet name, collar, fingering, rough sex, biting, anal sex

“I don’t know how I feel about this”, Casper said.

You, on the other hand, loved this. You see, a few days ago you were scrolling on the internet when you came across something. It reminded you of a conversation you had Casper had before you two got together.

An idea sprouted in your head and you quickly bought it. Now, Casper had a very nice dark red and black collar. It was spiked with a tag in the front that said ‘property of Y/n L/n’.

The actual collar was dark red and the spikes were a shiny black. It was beautiful. Casper was beautiful. You could feel your dick getting hard in your boxers.

Casper was already all undressed, while you were just in a pair of boxers. “I love it”, you said, leaning forward to kiss Casper. Casper groaned into the kiss.

You tilted your head and bit Casper’s lip, causing him to moan and open his mouth. You took the opportunity to slip your tongue into Casper’s mouth.

While you and Casper french kissed you moved a hand down to Casper’s legs. You pushed them open and circled Casper’s hole with your finger.

Casper groaned into the kiss and bucked your hips. You pulled away and let out a little laugh. You stuck a finger into Casper’s hole, moving it in and out.

“Ah, more”, Casper ground. You stuck two more fingers into Casper’s hole. “Ah~, ah~, yes”, Casper moaned, leaning his head back. You pulled your fingers out, leaving Casper to whine and the loss.

“Don’t worry, baby”, you said. You pulled your dick out of your boxers and pushed into Casper. “Oh~, yes~”, Casper moaned as you started thrusting.

You held onto Casper’s legs as you stared at Casper’s face. His red cheeks, sweaty forehead, collared neck. Casper looked gorgeous. You focused on the tag on the collar, it bounced with every thrust, making you thrust even harder.

“Y-y~ mmmm~ Y/nnnn~”, Casper moaned, his hands gripping the sheets so tight that his knuckles turned white. “M-more~, aahh~”, Casper moaned, feeling his orgasm getting closer.

You groaned as you felt Casper tighten around you. You leaned forward and placed your hands on either side of Casper’s head. You leaned your head down and bit Casper’s neck.

Right under the collar.

“Ooohh~”, Casper said right before coming because of the bite. You kept thrusting, chasing your orgasm. “Ah~ mmmm~, yes~, ah~ ah~”,

Casper whined and moaned at the over stimulation, but he liked it. You leaned back up and grabbed the collar with your fingers. You pulled on it, pulling Casper up with it.

You kissed Casper roughly as you came inside of him. Casper moaned into the kiss, feeling light headed. You pulled away and tugged on the collar lightly, making Casper moan.

“Guess you like the collar”.

51 notes · View notes

typellblog · 22 hours

Text

Suruga Devil - An Analysis

Something I’ve been thinking about is how even though Oshino disappeared six books ago, some way or another a specialist manages to crawl their way into every arc. Almost irregardless of the circumstances, these kids need someone to explain the problem to them. To bring them face to face with the truth they haven’t quite realised yet.

In Hanamonogatari, though, advice might be the last thing that Kanbaru Suruga needs - despite, or perhaps because so many different people want to offer it to her.

I’ll be riding my arc formula all the way from Bakemonogatari until the wheels fall off, so I think here I want to talk about the title again.

Suruga Devil. Isn’t that odd? It almost sounds like we’re dealing with the exact same oddity as her first arc. Except there’s a different Devil-sama in this one, someone who has more devil parts than Suruga herself. Numachi Rouka is also an oddity, by virtue of being already dead, and by that logic Suruga must be the ‘victim’ of her haunting.

The theory is floated here that all ghosts work similarly to Hachikuji. They hang around because of a certain regret, and people with a similar regret or issue are the only ones that can see them. What, then, is Rouka’s?

I think there’s something to be said for how obviously she wants to play basketball with Suruga again.

Even in a series full of unreliable narrators Rouka is unique in that we don’t get to see her internal narration, just how she chooses to present her life story to Suruga. There are hints that she was spinning it a bit - Higasa mentions that ‘family issues’ Rouka hardly talked about also contributed to her suicide, not just the broken leg.

Frankly I see in Rouka someone trying to put up a strong front to hide how severely something actually affected her. She refers to herself derisively as misfortunate, acknowledges the suffering that it caused her, but still tries to make herself seem distant from it, like it’s something she’s already dealt with. Like her misfortune-collecting has made her happy again.

Her initial attitude is hostile, confrontational. She seems like she’s trying to upset Suruga, describing her own activities in a tone that makes it obvious how unapologetic she is about the scumminess of it all. She wants to feel powerful, in control of the situation, even if it means she has to come off as an asshole.

In their final match Suruga leans into it, matching Rouka’s hostility and desire to compete with her rather than running away from it. I want to say it’s a way of paying her final respects.

Rouka says she didn’t feel like she ever suffered a clear loss in life. Her injury didn’t come from a dramatic final showdown. Losing her scholarship didn’t make it impossible to continue schooling. And her leg’s rehabilitation didn’t make it impossible for her to live on. But at the same time, all of these things ground her down until she didn’t know what to do. Rouka says you can run away from almost every problem, and she did. She ran away from school. She ran away from getting a job. And in the end, she ran away from life.

Kaiki remarks to Suruga that she can’t run away from all her problems. In his case he makes it brutally literal, but in an emotional sense he’s not somebody Suruga can ignore either, this weird older dude that has a history with her mother. Koyomi and Hitagi apparently told her to run away as soon as she met him, but they must not have considered he might have no ill will towards Suruga, not do anything that justifies running away from him.

When Rouka gets on top of Suruga and draws close enough to kiss, she could run. She knows she could run. She doesn’t. Did you want her to kiss you? Some things you can’t run away from, because deep down you don’t want to. Like the dark reverse side of a wish.

For Rouka, the Rainy Devil is a competitor. It actually does something to solve people’s problems, where her method allows these anxieties to work themselves out by having the people in question do nothing at all. Some things are only made worse by worrying about them - in the hands of the Rainy Devil these problems that may have worked themselves out over time instead get escalated into potentially life-destroying issues. Rouka isn’t one to make use of the devil’s arm, Suruga thinks. She would simply run away from the problem, not rely on external means to solve it. She’s strong like that. Strong enough to pretend her problems don’t matter to her.

Only to pretend, though. The phrase “It’s better to regret doing something than regret not doing it” comes up. Rouka is of course on the side of regretting not doing something. A third path between victory and defeat. It has its advantages, Suruga does acknowledge it. But it can’t resolve anything. Rouka’s problems still exist, she just isn’t facing them. What Suruga does is make Rouka confront her and in doing so symbolically confront everything. It gives her a clear reason for her loss. It lets her let go.

I think the reason that Rouka is so confrontational with Suruga, so eager to play basketball again, is because she knew this on some level. She prefers to regret not doing something, but of course that means she still regrets not doing something. She still wants to do it, still wants to play a proper match and finish off their middle-school rivalry.

I wondered what Rouka’s specific regret was, as a ghost, and while that game is about as close as anything, it still feels like I’m missing the big picture. Rouka doesn’t just collect misfortune, she collects devil parts. The things that show up physically on your body to prove you made a wish. The things that remain so long as that wish isn’t granted. The physical manifestation of regret for a choice that still has Suruga checking the news every morning to make sure she didn’t do anything during the night without remembering.

Hachikuji gets people lost because she is lost. Rouka frees people from the regret of doing something because she herself never did anything about the situation she found herself in. It’s why she’s so interested in hearing the stories, along with the devil parts. People who did something she could never do. People who failed and became even more unfortunate than her, thus proving her right.

She takes the devil parts from people who don’t want them anymore. You can’t run away from something if you really do still want it, but Suruga is well over it at this point. Consider how Suruga deals with the devil’s continued presence in her life. Refusing to run out of fear that someone might be faster than her. She used the arm to pursue Hitagi to the point of destruction, but in equal measure refused to do so, and in doing so was unable to replicate Koyomi’s success. In that sense, when Kaiki says you can’t outrun everything, he’s telling her that it’s okay to lose. It’s okay to try, and then fail. It’s okay to just hand the arm over to Rouka and move on.

Higasa remarks that Suruga seems too positive of a person to have heard the Devil-sama rumor - because that’s the type of person Suruga is seen as. Polite, enthusiastic, direct, a star athlete, a hard worker, a rich kid, a goody two-shoes. The type of person who would take issue with Rouka’s methods. Rouka expects a fight, because in a lot of ways Suruga is Rouka’s opposite, someone who would slap her in the face upon hearing about what she’s doing.

At the same time, Suruga is the type of person to immediately second-guess that reaction. She lets Rouka’s hand sit on her chest for an uncomfortable length of time (the symbolic gesture associated with taking her devil arm!) because she feels bad about hitting her. Of course she would. She straps her arm to the wall at night because she’s scared of hitting someone again.

In other words, contrary to expectation, she’s the exact type of person that would encounter Rouka. The correct type of person to hear the Devil-sama rumor. The type of person that’s still burdened by the regret of a wish that turned into an obsession. Exactly the type of problem that can be solved, will be solved, simply by doing nothing.

I said I still wanted to talk about the arc formula, and here it raises an interesting question of where exactly the specialist comes in. Kaiki, of course, is prominent in this novel - but even though he helps, he hardly explains anything. He has a policy, Rouka tells us, of only sharing half his information. It’s a little like Oshino’s rule of balance, but even less helpful. He shies away from the spotlight out of what I imagine is self-preservation - running away from Koyomi and Hitagi in Karen Bee, blatantly subverting their expectations that he explain Karen’s oddity. He does it anyway, but it’s pointless. The fever disappears on its own.

Where Meme’s balance is to make sure he doesn’t interfere too much in others’ problems, ensure his surprisingly impressive spiritual abilities don’t create further disturbances in the course of solving them, Kaiki’s balance is to make sure he always has another opportunity to mess with people in the future, to ensure his practical-minded refusal to believe in spirits entirely doesn’t end up biting him in the ass.

Even so, we’ve come to expect someone to come and clear things up, explain that which our protagonist was too slow to grasp on their own, put a neat little tie on the end of things. Like Tooe Gaen, perhaps? Deceased but apparently no less of an authority on the supernatural. “The motivation for justice is envy of evil,” we’re told, explaining precisely what left Suruga so unsettled about Rouka. Rouka did what she could never do, just like Suruga did what Rouka couldn’t.

It’s a nice enough explanation, putting things into the dualistic perspective that Tooe seems to prefer. “If you can’t be medicine, then be poison, otherwise you’re just plain old water.” It doesn’t matter if you help others or hurt others as long as you do something, act in accordance with your nature, don’t let yourself be bound by the restrictions of society or conscience. Those are the type of people she seems most interested in, and the type of person Suruga ought to become as a result of this arc - someone who acts, as opposed to the inactive Rouka.

And yet neither her nor Rouka seem to fit into Tooe’s format. Rouka, despite being plain water, is still muddy. A swamp. That mud, composed of everyday misfortune, is nothing nearly so interesting as to be called poison. Suruga is even more confused. A flash-flood, capable of clearing up the dirt that Rouka collected?

Suruga didn’t envy Rouka because she was evil. The implication there is that Rouka took pleasure in shattering social boundaries that Suruga felt obligated to stick to. But Suruga has already experienced what it’s like to violently pursue one’s own wishes in disregard of the feelings of others. It’s not fun! Suruga is jealous of, if anything, Rouka’s coolness. Her ability to roll with the punches, accept what happened to her with a laugh, shamelessly use her misfortune and pitiability as weapons.

And Rouka, despite how she presents herself, was quite clearly not evil. Her offered ‘help’ is for entirely self-centered motives, and yet she’s much more concerned with the lives of others than her own. She does act like she doesn’t care about the people asking her for help, but all the same she does redirect those with more serious issues to the correct services. She did say she genuinely wanted to help Hanadori Rouka, the girl she met with the left leg, which is surprising from the perspective of Suruga’s vague animosity towards her, but completely understandable if you just think of Rouka as a normal girl.

Suruga is neither good nor evil, as Koyomi puts it at the end of the book. She didn’t do the right thing, or the wrong thing. Neither did Rouka. They simply couldn’t look away from one another. Looking away, like running away, is only something you can do if you don’t really want to look. Even if Suruga ran away Rouka would have kept haunting her. She had the qualifications for it. Similarly, I feel like Rouka simply couldn’t look away from people’s misfortune, from the devil parts. Oddities arise for a reason, people have to want them on some level, and perhaps that’s true from the oddity’s side as well.

Speaking of Koyomi, though, he’s the last to give advice. He encounters Suruga at her lowest point, where she doesn’t know what to do, and quite literally helps her get back on her feet. His specialist qualifications are a bit iffy, but this is a timeskip - he’s in college, he’s more or less overcome his coming of age stuff. The thing is, his advice is to ignore everyone’s advice. For Suruga to act like herself, act on her instincts. To do neither the right thing or the wrong thing.

Ironically, characteristically, she takes the advice anyway.

She’s immediately less unsettled around Rouka, more confident in how she wants to play it. I think about her bluntly stating she’s an exhibitionist. It’s a pervy joke, something that’s been oddly absent in this book so far. One of the things we realise, looking at the world from Suruga’s benefit, is that her perversion, her exhibitionism, frankly even her queerness and interest in BL was much played up for the benefit of Koyomi. At the same time, though, I don’t think that makes it somehow false or an inaccurate representation of herself. She was able to be more overt with these things around Koyomi, because he was accepting of it, and that’s a largely positive thing.

It’s not a coincidence that her meeting with Koyomi gives her the confidence to be more like that with Rouka, or that this line about exhibitionism actually ties into an important part of her character. You see, right after, Rouka says it must have been tough for her to conceal the devil’s arm.

I think about the arm as representative of the stigma of queerness, as something that paints her desire for Hitagi as animal and violent (even as it’s capable of finding perfectly healthy expression on the flip side), as something that she has to conceal from others. Recall how in Suruga Monkey her being a lesbian is revealed right after the arm itself, and it’s her sexuality that Koyomi finds the more shocking.

From that perspective, you could think about Rouka as helping the devil part bearers integrate into society by removing the outward signs of their queerness, their difference. She takes it all on herself, with her oddly dyed hair, baggy tracksuit, put-on limp. She takes it all on herself because she no longer needs to live in normal society. No longer can.

It kind of explains more of Suruga’s hesitance to let Rouka go. It’s not like she wants to keep the arm. It’s not like it represents the truth of her sexuality in itself. She was gay before the arm and will be after. I think it moreso represents Tooe’s approach to identity and self-change. You can be whatever you want, but becoming is an inherently painful process.

We’d like to think that Tooe’s message was that you should learn to change yourself rather than relying on suspicious magical artifacts, but the fact that she exposed Suruga to that risk in the first place indicates she’s fine with danger as a teaching device. Fine with her daughter becoming poison. Maybe even fine with her killing someone.

In the end, all the arm does is give her an inferiority complex. Her admiration of Hitagi, her graceful running style, is built on the fact that Suruga herself doesn’t feel she can run like that. She’s faster, but also uglier, more desperate. Her admiration of Koyomi, his self-sacrificing nature, is built on her shame over not being able to help Hitagi more herself. She’s self-effacing, but also uglier, more jealous.

Suruga is glad to lose the arm, but she still feels uneasy about Rouka getting it. About being saved by someone else. Aren’t people supposed to just go ahead and save themselves? In this one thing, at least, Rouka is a more helpful specialist than even Oshino Meme.

On that topic, the last person to give Suruga advice is Rouka herself. At the end of their second meeting, Rouka tells her to live a normal life. Do all the things I couldn’t do. She’s a negative example, telling people to not end up like her. Just stay in the closet. This, too, will pass.

That, kinda sucks though. Integrate into society? Drop all visible signs of your queerness? Get a boyfriend? Rouka’s channeling old tragic yuri tropes for the last time she thinks they’ll ever meet.

Is that really what Rouka thinks? Does she really envy Suruga’s potential to be normal? To get a job? Because the opposite is precisely what Suruga envies about her - Rouka’s ability to ignore social expectations. The thing is, after their final match, the advice changes again. Who cares about studying for exams? Just start playing basketball again. This is really the only thing I can imagine Rouka envying Suruga for. It’s the path where she gets to make use of her arm again.

Saying that basketball is representative of Suruga’s queerness here is even more of a stretch than applying that to her arm, but there’s at least one important respect in which the analogy kinda works.

The way she wins the game.

Basketball is a game for more than one player. The phrasing is a little awkward - ideally it would read “Basketball is a game for two players” to make the comparison to romance even more explicit, but - that isn’t true, is it. So the fact that there are exactly two of them playing becomes a little more significant, I think.

They have to combine their efforts to get the ball into the hoop. That’s a disingenuous way of putting it, when they’re on opposite sides, but it’s still true. Rouka, after all, couldn’t get it in alone. That wasn’t her aim in the first place. She was just trying not to lose.

Suruga didn’t just let her lose decisively for the first time, she also let Rouka win. Rouka wasn’t passed to, much, when she used to play. This is the first time she realises that basketball can’t be played alone.

And, well, when you put it in that sense, basketball isn’t just representative of romance, it’s representative of life in general. When you look back on Rouka’s backstory, at this point, one thing stands out. She never relied on anyone else. She never had anyone to rely on. It’s so bad that she ends up in Suruga’s orbit. The anime opening portrays what it might be like if they had a closer relationship, but that’s something that had to be invented in retrospect, because they really didn’t talk much. They didn’t even properly play against each other much. But when it comes down to it, Rouka is drawn to Suruga’s family inheritance of the devil parts, Suruga’s family inheritance of an annoying conman uncle, and in the end, back to Suruga herself.

Suruga’s not the only person who ever truly understood her, as you might expect from a school rivalry situation. Suruga is simply the only person in a position where it’s even possible to truly understand her. The only person that could have drawn that final dunk out of her. The only person who could remind Rouka that she really did enjoy basketball, enjoy life.

In doing so, it serves as a reminder to herself, as well.

Thanks for reading, everyone! Call this the Pride Month special, even though I didn’t discuss the queer themes of this story as much as I would have liked. Next: Otori. Oh boy.

#monogatariposting #hanamonogatari #kanbaru suruga #numachi rouka

22 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 2 days

Text

A second drabble of "Fuuta goes to get a 3am snack and Es is being Weird" LOL. I love @waivyjellyfish 's hcs of inhuman Es, and they would 100% use this to torture Fuuta. Nothing overtly supernatural happens, which just adds to his pain that it's all technically possible, but still creeping him the fuck out 😂

Fuuta blinked the grogginess from his eyes, the fridge light nearly blinding him. He shifted around some leftovers, picking out something that looked appetizing. He peered over his shoulder. It was the dead of night, and he’d hate to wake any of the others. Unfortunately, he had no such luxury himself. His grumbling stomach didn’t care about his need for rest.

He placed a bite of cold food in his mouth.

He closed the fridge door, revealing Es standing behind it.

His coughing masked the sound of horror that would have come out otherwise. He’d leapt backwards about five feet, narrowly avoiding throwing the food directly at the warden’s darkened figure.

“You didn’t choose my cooking?” was all Es said in response to the mortifying reaction.

“The fuck are you doing!? I didn’t even hear you come in…”

One would think that those clicking heels and collar of jangling keys would make Es into a walking noisemaker, but they were surprisingly silent everywhere they went. The prisoners had often joked about Es’ catlike steps. Fuuta in no laughing mood, now.

“Don’t you have a lot to do tomorrow?” He tried to shake the uneasy feeling swirling in his gut. “You’ve been talking about it all day, I thought you’d want as much sleep as you could get.”

“I don’t sleep.”

“Does it look like I care that you’re drowned with work? That’s your own fault for trying to handle ten prisoners all by yourself. You’re not getting any pity from me.”

“Eh? No, I mean, I don’t sleep.”

Fuuta paused. “Stop fucking with me. I’m too tired for this crap.”

“I mean it. I was already awake when I heard someone up, I just wanted to investigate.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way you heard me from all the way down the hall, through that heavy door of yours. You’re probably hungry, too – but don’t get any ideas, these are mine.” He moved to the counter, transferring the food to another dish to heat.

Es followed, their icy eyes flicking between him and the food.

“You really prefer Mahiru’s cooking that much more?”

“Of course. Yours sucks. Don’t think I’ll give you any fake flattery just because you’re the warden.”

“I figured you would want me in charge of the kitchen instead of Jackalope. I’m just trying to help.”

“Tch. I’m pretty sure you’re trying to kill us.”

“With my cooking?” A smirk stretched across their lips. “There are easier ways to kill a person.”

Es stared at him, that odd smile on their face.

Fuuta tried to smother the shiver creeping up his spine.

They had to have been messing with him. This is just how a bored warden gets their kicks, he figured. They sneak up on unsuspecting prisoners in the middle of the night and say ominous things. They just liked bringing up murder to get under his skin. And of course they slept. They slept, ate, and – he looked down at the dish of food. He had seen them eat, right? He wracked his brain for any memory of it. It would explain the poor-tasting cooking…

“Ah!” Es’ voice made him jump for the second time that night. He followed their gaze over to the doorway, where Jackalope was hopping into the dim kitchen.

Es began to speak into the silence. This type of craziness, at least, was a familiar one: their insistence that they could speak to the little animal.

“I know, I know. … Yes, of course. I’ll be finished here in a moment.”

Fuuta’s gaze flicked between the pair. Tiny, black, beady eyes. Large, pale, round ones. Jacklope’s twitchy little nose. The way Es seemed entirely motionless.

“Whatever. I’m going to bed.” Fuuta grabbed the dish and stormed out of the room. He avoided meeting either set of eyes. Let them have their crazy, creepy conversations in the dark by themselves. He was out.

Es’ voice echoed into the hallway as he hurried back to his cell.

“Goodnight, Fuuta…”

Fuuta tried not to look like a little kid running back through the darkened corridors, but he certainly didn’t take his time.

The sheets rustled around him as he got into. His back pressed against the cell wall, so he could keep an eye on the entrance. He strained his ears to listen for any unnaturally quiet steps.

Then he looked down at his food.

He had completely lost his appetite.

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #es #poor guy.... hes never sleeping now.....#RIP es' bad cooking #whether for supernatural reasons or not i feel ya 😭#i loved the thoughts about es never sleeping (and staring at the security cameras) and like the idea of them just wandering around the hall #i still dont know how chill the prisoners are about them talking to jackalope but i mean its probably still a little weird #fuuta: 'theyre perfectly human and normal. they just love fucking with people'#es: *is not human at all. does in fact love fucking with people though*#i was worried about making a repeat to another scene but theyre still distinct #theres something about the 3am fridge run that just calls to both of them.......#drabbles

22 notes · View notes

seaoflove07 · 3 days

Text

Love Planted a Rose 🌹

~ Dark ~

• Artwork by The Drawables •

Full Art Cover and Story Description, Here.

OCXCanon. 🔪 Azusa & Christine’s Story. 🌹

Fan Fiction Written by Me.

Fandom: Diabolik Lovers.

Masterpost.

Christine and Yui as both were walking, they had a bit of conversation before they got to the Garden. Questions like, “How old are you? And, “Where are you from?” Both of them felt easygoing talking to each other.

- They arrive at the Sakamaki Garden -

• Official by Rejet •

Yui: “We are here.”

Christine: “Wow! It's extremely beautiful.”

(The garden is breathtaking! So many beautiful flowers in so many different colors, the sound of the fountain, the statues. It looks straight up from Victorian Era paintings...)

Yui: “It really is beautiful.” She smiles.

Christine: “If I had lived here, I would have visited this garden every single day.”

Yui: “I come here every once in a while with Ayato-kun.”

Christine: “Yui… can I ask you a question?”

Yui: “Yes, of course. What would you like to know?

Christine: “How’s it been for you living with the Sakamaki brothers? They all seem like assholes and I can tell that they are very dangerous. Reiji was a big example.”

Yui: “When I first arrived here it was bad and I was very afraid to know that they were all vampires. They all wanted my blood, especially the triplets who were so forward. So out of spur of the moment, I told them to let me choose the person who can drink my blood.”

Christine: “So you end up choosing Ayato, right?”

(She’s blushing...)

Yui: “H-how you know?”

Christine: “Well… you did walk into the living room with him and you left with him before I left with Reiji. So it seems obvious that you picked Ayato. Why him?”

Yui: “Since I blurted that out so they can stop getting closer to me. I really wasn't sure who to even pick since I didn't know any of them personally. The reason I chose Ayato-kun, was because he was the first one I saw when I walked into the mansion. He was sleeping on the couch and when I touched his skin to wake him up. He was so cold that I thought he was dead.”

Christine: (I see. They all have cold skin because they are vampires. I felt the cold touch with Azusa, Ruki, and Reiji…)

Yui: “Christine-san, who did you pick from the Mukami brothers? Is it Ruki-kun?”

Christine: “Huh? I didn't choose any of them and I don't want to either.”

Yui: “Eh! So you don’t mind them all drinking your blood?”

Christine: !!! I-I do mind but they haven’t even tried to drink my blood. The only one who has sucked my blood is... Azusa. I just hope the other brothers will never try. Azusa is already acting weird as it is.”

Yui: “I see. I wonder in this case if Azusa-kun chose you instead, and that’s why the other brothers haven’t even tried.”

Christine: ... ...

Yui: “Christine-San? You seem sad... I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

Christine: “No you didn’t... But I do feel sad because… I don’t know what will become of me. Azusa has been violent, I fear for my life.”

Yui: “Ayato-kun was violent with me too in the beginning. Then over time, we fell in love with each other. It wasn't easy, but I’m happy being by his side.”

Christine: (How can anyone fall in love with a monster? I truly wanted to ask her this question but I decided not to. I have read many paranormal romance novels of human girls falling in love with the dreamy vampire. But in this case, neither the Mukami’s and Sakamaki’s are dreamy. They are dangerous and sadistic…)

“Even if you are in love with him please stay safe. I know you just met me but if you ever need advice or help or just need someone to talk to, I'll be here to listen.”

Yui: “Thank you, Christine-san. You are so kind.”

She smiled.

“I'll be fine and I’m looking forward to have our girl talk every Friday then. I will be here for you too if you ever want to talk about anything.”

Christine: “I'm glad to know that. Thank you. So should we start grabbing flowers? Can we pick any flowers that we want? Or does Reiji wants a specific flower?”

Yui: “We can choose any flowers we like.”

Christine: “Great. I will pick pink and red roses.”

Yui: “Then while you get the roses, I will get Tulips.”

Ayato: “Chichinashi! I found you!”

Surprising her from behind.

Yui: “Kya!”

Ayato: “Hahaha… Dummy, you should have expected I was coming to get you.”

He kissed Yui’s cheek and wrapped his arms around her.

“What the hell you are doing here in the garden anyway? Let's go do something more fun.”

Yui: “Reiji-san needs fresh flowers to put in the mansion vases.”

Ayato: “That damn four eyes should get the flowers himself!”

Yui: “Is part of Christine-san's task. I’m here to help her and show her around. I promise you once we are done we can do whatever you'd like.”

He smirks.

Ayato: “Then you will entertain me and I will give you all my attention when we go back to your room. Hehe… Look at that happy expression on your face.”

*Smooch*

“Guess I have no choice, but to help you pick up these damn flowers so we can hurry up and leave.”

Christine: (They kinda look cute together…)

Yui: Smiling. “Thank you, Ayato-kun.”

“Christine-san, if you walk straight ahead a little further, you will see all the roses. While you grab some roses, Ayato-kun and I will get Tulips.”

Ayato: “And you better grab a bunch, Chihuahua. Because I want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.”

Christine: “My name is Christine! Not Chihuahua.”

Ayato: “I will call you whatever I want! Come, Chichinashi.”

He takes her hand.

“Let’s go.”

Yui: “We will meet back here, Christine-san.”

She gave Christine an apologetic look and left with Ayato.

Christine: (Asshole! I wished I could have told him that. Anyways, I have to go get roses…)

While she was walking, Christine was admiring the beautiful summer night. The warmth and the scent of the flowers filled the air. The stars looked so shiny she couldn't help thinking about a little piece from John Keats's poem, Bright Star.

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart.

Once she found the roses, she stopped in her tracks. Christine saw the white-haired vampire, holding and looking at a white rose.

She walks closer to him.

Christine: “Are white roses your favorite flower?”

Subaru: “Che, I thought I smelled you.”

He turns around to face her.

Christine: (He looks upset…)

Subaru: “I hate them!”

He crushed the rose petals with his palms, throwing them to the ground.

“Now get the hell out of here!”

Christine: “I can't. I need to grab roses for the mansion. It’s part of my task.”

Subaru: “I don't care about your stupid task, now leave!”

Christine: “Fine! I'll go grab other flowers then.”

She started walking away.

Subaru: “Wait!”

She stops and turns around, looking at him.

Christine: … …

Subaru: “What’s your favorite flower?”

Christine: (His face is bright red and one of his hands is shaking. Is like he's trying to control his temper…)

“Pink and Red Roses are my favorite.”

Subaru: “Che, not surprised. You smell like a rose.”

He walks closer to her.

Laito: “Fufu~ I see the little kid has a crush on you, Bitch-chan. Nfu~”

Christine Flinch at the sight of Laito.

Subaru: “EXCUSE ME!? TRY SAYIN’ THAT ONE MORE TIME YOU BASTARD!”

Laito: “Nfu~ Isn't she pretty?”

- Laito suddenly embraces Christine from behind -

Christine: “Eww, Let go of me!”

He smells her neck.

Laito: “Haah... you do smell like a lovely rose. Nfu~ I wonder what your blood tastes like.”

He licks her neck.

Christine: “Eww! Please stop!”

Laito: “Nfu~ Subaru, let’s have a sip of her blood and have a little fun together with her.”

Subaru: “Fuck no! You’re just a disgustin’ pervert.”

Laito: “Look at you getting all irritated. This is exactly why I can’t deal with kids. Suit yourself. I will take the first bite then.”

Laito leans closer to her neck and opens his mouth wide.

Ruki: “Laito!! You better let Livestock go right this instant.”

Laito: “Geez! You just had to appear when the good part was about to start.”

He let her go.

Ruki: “Livestock, let's go!”

He pulls her arm.

“I’m done with this night.”

*TimeSkip*

- In the limousine -

Ruki: “You are so troublesome! I feel like I'm babysitting!”

Christine: “It is not my fault!”

Ruki: “Hmph, I told you to be careful and not get yourself into trouble, and yet again, you do the opposite. You are a blonde airhead!”

Christine: “I am not an airhead!! I graduated with excellent grades and I am a Teacher just so you know.”

Ruki: “You teach really young brats that most of them don't know how to read yet. I don't see anything to be proud of.”

Christine: !!!

(This asshole!!!…)

But she held her tongue, she didn't want the same situation that happened with Reiji repeating.

“I love working with children and teaching them the foundational knowledge. Helping them practice problem-solving, pre-academic, and social skills. There is so much more to being a Pre-K Teacher, and I wish we were appreciated more.”

Ruki: “Hmph. I see you are that simple-minded, Livestock.”

Christine: … “How did you know I was a Pre-K Teacher? I've never told you or any of your brothers.”

Ruki: “I know everything about you, Livestock. Once they told me we were having a young woman in our manor for the summer. I had my familiars get every information about you. I know where you live, I know who are your family, friends, and boyfriend. I also know where you work, and I know the car you drive. All the important details about you, I know… So running away would be pointless… and even if you do, my brothers and I would find you in seconds.”

Christine: !!!!

(Chills run down her spine!…)

“I don't have a boyfriend, anymore…”

“So this job was a setup. I knew this was too good to be true. It was all bullshit! And you guys were already spying on me!”

Ruki: “You better watch your mouth! Next time I will punish you for raising your voice at me. Am I clear, Livestock?”

Christine nods.

Ruki: “My brothers have nothing to do with this. I am the one who is in charge of you. My brothers only knew a woman was gonna live with us for the summer, that’s it. They will only help me if I ask them to.”

“So you see Livestock, if you dare escape from us. We will kill your family as punishment.”

- She starts to panic -

Christine: “Please!… I don't know what Karlheinz wants with me, but I beg you! Please don't hurt my family! I promise I won't run away!”

Tears start running down her cheeks.

Ruki: “Well if you are a good woman and don't do anything foolish. I assure you. Your family will be safe. We are back to the manor, this discussion is over.”

As Christine watched Ruki getting out of the limousine, her hands began to shake.

Christine: (Why is this happening!? From what I know, my family and I don't have any enemies. Was she sent here like Yui to be one of the brother's bride?…)

!!!!!

Just thinking about it is making her anxiety way worse.

🎶In the still of the night

I held you

Held you tight

'Cause I love

Love you so

Promise I'll never

Let you go

In the still of the night🎶

Monologue

As I was walking in the hallway.

I hear music playing.

A 50s song.

I remember this song.

In the Still of the Night by The Five Stains.

My Mom and Dad used to play this song when I was younger.

She followed where the song was coming from…

Christine opens the door and to her surprise, she sees Azusa dancing with a woman.

She Flinch!

Christine: (That woman! Is me…)

I’m looking at myself dancing with Azusa.

We both look in love.

The way Azusa is holding me.

The way I have my arms wrapped around him.

Holding him tight.

• Artwork by MonMonartz •

Azusa: “My treasure… is a beautiful Rose… keep me safe… keep me alive… in your heart… my precious rose.”

Christine: (My heart is racing! Hearing him speak those words to me. Suddenly, I feel dizzy and my vision is blurry…)

Christine opens her eyes and sees that she's in her room and she sits up.

(It was a dream. How drastically different this one was, compared to the ones I had back home...)

She hugs herself with a sad expression.

It was a nice dream,

but it wasn't real,

It will never be real.

My heart is broken

Shattered by Mark

and

I don't trust any man

to put stitches on it.

—TO BE CONTINUED—

• By Me on Picrew •

#diabolik lovers #continuation at the sakamakis #diabolik lovers oc #his rose #christine #fan fiction #azusa mukami #azusa & rose #diabolik lovers fandom #mukami brothers #diaboys #sakamaki brothers #diabolik lovers fanfic #diahell #diabolik lovers fanfiction #love planted a rose

22 notes · View notes