#Hear That? That’s My Heart Breaking Lol I’m Dead Inside Now.

[daily-crowley]

It was my birthday yesterday, can we get heartbroken Crowley?

Crowley Of The Day: As you wish. Happy late birthday 🥰🎉

[prythianpages]

In My Eyes | Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand's Sister | Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.

warnings: mentions of death (descriptive and a bit gruesome)/loss, angst 💔

a/n: I wanted to take a little break from all the fluff I've been writing so here's a little angst. I listened to Jacob's prayer from the Minari soundtrack a lot along with Thom Yorke's Hearing Damage while writing this. Hence the title bc I couldn't think of anything else lol and also because I feel like Az would be so down for his mate, she really could do no wrong in his eyes.

A haunting stillness permeates the air, broken only by the occasional whisper of Azriel’s shadows. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He wants to turn and leave but his legs betray his mind, prompting him to go forward. Cracked cobblestone paths lead him to the castle’s doors and as Azriel pushes the door open, it releases a loud groaning noise.

Inside Hybern’s castle, broken furniture lies scattered and the once opulent halls now echo with the sound of dripping water. His shadows stir uneasily. A sudden gust of wind brushes past him, carrying a pleading whisper along with it.

“Help me.”

Goosebumps rise on Azriel's skin as his shadows freeze in place. There was something familiar about that haunting plea that sent shivers down his spine.

“Azriel.”

"y/n," he breathes, the mere utterance causing his shadows to stir into a desperate frenzy. His steps quicken, evolving into a full-blown run, his heart pounding in sync with the frantic pace of his movements.

"y/n!" he calls out again, this time louder. His eyes, stinging with tears, frantically scanning the endless expanse of the haunted halls for any trace of you.

"Azriel, help me!"

Azriel runs and runs, but the hall stretches infinitely before him.

“Help! I’m al–”

And then, with a jolt, Azriel wakes. 

Cold sweat clings to him like a second skin as the tendrils of the dream slowly release their grip on his consciousness. Your voice–it felt so real. But he knows it’s a dream because when he turns his head, the spot beside him is empty. 

As it has been for centuries. 

Azriel allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more as he catches his breath. This was just another nightmare, he tells himself. It does nothing to soothe him. The more he thinks about it, the more unease grips him. Even his shadows are shaky, trembling as they brush against him. 

For centuries, his dreams have been plagued by nightmares. It had always been the same one. The one that made him relive the moment he found out you were dead. Azriel had been the one to find the box that carried your mother’s severed head down Windhaven’s river and when he had spotted another box, all he found was a severed finger. A severed finger wearing a ring he was all too familiar with because he had been the one to place it on your finger.

Azriel remembers the way his heart had dropped to his stomach. He remembers the way he had desperately tugged on the bond only to find nothing but an eerie quietness on your end. He knew at that moment you were gone and you weren’t coming back.

The scream that tore through his throat was as violent as the gaping black hole crushing through his chest. It curdled the blood of anyone within earshot and had the surrounding birds jolting from their perches, their feathers rustling in a panicked flutter. Not even his shadows, who had carried him through his darkest times, could console him.

Azriel had no body to mourn. No hand to hold on to. No face to caress for the last time. He could only hope that your death had been quick and painless.

But this nightmare was new. Different. You were alive in this one. Or sounded like it.

Azriel opens his eyes and he brings himself to sit up in bed. His hands, weary and scarred, rub at his face in exhaustion, brushing away the lingering tears that sting at his eyes. He then looks down at his hands, aching to feel your warmth once more. Even if only in a dream.

The glimmering ring on Azriel's left hand sparkles under the tender caress of moonlight, drawing his attention. His trembling fingers trace the contours of the band. He can’t help but turn and twist it, yearning for a complete view of the engraved letters. It spells out your name and the ache of grief intensifies with every twist. He hasn’t taken the ring off since the day he married you, even after death did you part.

It compliments the smaller, daintier ring wrapped around his neck that hangs on a thin silver chain. Your ring. His name is engraved on it just as yours is on his. The only difference is that yours cradles a captivating cobalt blue gem.  A precious fragment, crafted from his own siphon and meticulously refined by himself. He wanted you to carry a part of him wherever you went.

Now, he is left to carry it. The only piece he has left of you.

A poignant reminder that though death may have claimed you, the essence of your union lingers on. He can’t imagine loving anyone else. He doesn’t want to love anyone else. For him, it was you and only you. He could only thank the Mother for allowing him the time he had with you but also curse her for taking you from him.

His hand closes around your ring, grappling with the disorienting emotions coursing through him. Despite the centuries that have separated you, an instinctual yearning tugs at Azriel's core. He reaches out for the intangible thread that once connected you. He knows he’ll only receive the familiar void. It had been this way for ages. He’d wake from his nightmare, reach out with false hope and receive nothing in return.

Yet, this time, just like the nightmare he woke from, is different.

The shadows that hover over Azriel's shoulders, murmuring their soothing lullabies, suddenly cease in their dance. His eyes widen, capturing a glimmer of something long forgotten. Hope. It stirs within him, a dormant ember flickering to life after centuries of darkness.

For a fleeting moment, there's a response. A fragile shimmer through the bond. So delicate that it's almost imperceptible. And it’s coming from your side. 

Azriel tugs again, cautiously and slowly. Anxiously and holding his breath. Even his shadows don’t dare to stir. But as he awaits another sign, silence envelops him. There’s no response.

He tugs again, desperately seeking confirmation. And then again and again. His tugs grow harsher, more desperate, each pull an urgent plea for any sign, any trace of you. Yet, the bond remains eerily silent, as if mocking the fragile tendrils of hope that dared to rekindle within him. 

Maybe it was all a figment of his imagination. 

But he swore he heard your voice, swore that tug, as faint as it was, was there. The crushing weight of loss descends once more, and it's as if he's losing you all over again. The echoes of hope vanish, leaving only a hollowing ache. His shadows begin to stir again, anxious to fill that hollowness in fear of the malevolent darkness that threatens to creep back inside and consume him all over again.

“No, no, no,” Azriel cries, his voice breaking into a mere whisper. With tear-streaked eyes, he looks up towards the moon, its ethereal glow filtering through the window on the ceiling.

“Please,” he says, beseeching the celestial body to heed his prayer. 

Yet, the void persists and an overwhelming surge of fear takes hold, tightening its icy grip around him. Because though he thinks of you all the time, he’s beginning to forget the small details. Such as the exact shade of your eye, the radiant sparkle in your eyes as you’d smile at him, the comforting warmth of your laugh, the precise hue of blush that would grace your cheeks every time he told you he loved you.

He doesn’t want to forget. As painful as the memories are now, he wants to anchor himself into every single one of them. To hold onto the exquisite weight of every detail.

"Please," Azriel pleads once more. His body quivers with each sob, hunched over in bed, fingers tightly gripping his chest as if trying to anchor his unraveling soul. The shadows, usually under his control, writhe in a frenzied storm, mirroring the emotions swirling inside him. Some tendrils slither out from beneath the door, seeking out help.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach someone. Rhysand swiftly materializes in the room. "Azriel!" he calls out, a voice cutting through the tumult of emotions that cling to the air like heavy mist. “What’s wrong?”

"I heard her, Rhys," Azriel confesses through tearful sobs, his pain echoing in the shadows. "I felt her."

“What if she’s alive? I–I need to find her.”

Rhysand's heart plummets, a solemn gravity darkening his features. “She’s dead, Az,” he murmurs softly, tone laced with empathy. While Azriel lost his mate, Rhysand had lost his sister. He, too, mourns for you.

Azriel shakes his head in denial. “She needs me.”

Rhysand takes a deep breath, blinking back his own tears. He then turns toward the doorway, meeting Feyre’s wide eyes. She had rushed to the room along with him. "Please, get Cas," he tells her.

**

As Azriel secures his siphons, he stares down at his left wrist, where a lunar emblem is etched onto his tan skin. It had disappeared when you had died but now, it is vivid against his skin once more. He doesn’t know exactly when it had reappeared. He was binding his hands before a training session, weeks ago, when he noticed it. The reappearance of your mating tattoo carries with it the weight of the vows you had spoken to him.

“As long as I’m alive, I will love you with every breath.”

But you weren’t alive. You were still dead. After that night almost a year ago, Azriel had looked for you. Every night and day. For months.  He was driving himself into pure madness, even his shadows had grown restless. There had been no more signs, no more traces of you but he still pushed on and he would’ve continued if Rhysand hadn’t forced him to stop.

“Are you ready?”

Azriel nods at Rhysand, securing the last of his weapon to his leathers. He then spares a glance toward Cassian, who is doing the same. It had been a long week of planning for this very moment.

Koschei initiated contact through a cryptic note delivered to Rhysand. The message proposed a meeting at the lake. A “peace” conference, he had called it. One that exclusively also required the presence of Cassian and Azriel. The terms were strange, but with dwindling options and time slipping away, Rhysand reluctantly consented.

"I'll be back before you know it," Rhysand reassures Feyre, bending down to plant a tender kiss on her temple. His gaze lingers on their infant son cradled in Feyre's arms, his smile warm as he places a gentle kiss on Nyx's head. "Save me a slice of Elain's cake for later.”

"Alright," Feyre exhales, her eyes still etched with worry. Her attention shifts towards the inked markings on her left arm and a fleeting shadow brushes softly against the tattoo. Lifted by the subtle touch, her gaze meets Azriel's and then Cassian's. In that silent exchange, they convey an unspoken commitment to protect their family at any cost. Feyre can only manage a small smile before the three males winnow away.

**

As soon as they arrive at the lake, Azriel feels a stirring in his chest. His attention is immediately drawn to a lone white swan. The swan glides across the murky water. A looming darkness rises from the lake, blocking his view of the swan and causing his shadows to jerk back. 

"Welcome," Koschei's voice whispers through the wind.

Rhysand moves forward, standing in front of Cassian and Azriel, despite the anxiety coursing through him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”

The looming darkness swells, and a malevolent chuckle reverberates from its core. Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves behind his wings and his entire body stiffens. He can sense Cassian do the same beside him.  "You know precisely what I desire."

"And you know why we won't grant it," Rhysand retorts. There’s an icy rage swirling in his violet eyes that overcomes his sense of fear. He can only imagine what a world ruled by Koschei would be like and he refuses to allow the death god the power to harm his family.

"I anticipated your reluctance, Rhysand. That's why I've prepared a gift. Aid in my liberation from this lake, and it's yours."

Rhysand scoffs, unwavering. "No gift will entice me to free you."

"Are you certain about that?"

The wind intensifies, rustling leaves and brushing against the Illyrians, raising goosebumps in its wake. Birds, concealed in the trees, erupt in panicked flight. Rhysand, undeterred, digs his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in question at the death god.

Koschei's laughter echoes again. "Perhaps I should show you first. It’s only fair, wouldn't you agree?"

The wind abruptly ceases, plunging the world into an eerie hush. The shadow that looms over the lake drifts to the side, allowing the swan from earlier to glide forward. Suddenly, a dark mist envelops the bird, its form blurring and shifting until the swan's elegant feathers dissolve into a cascade of shimmering silver. From the mist, a cloaked figure emerges, her midnight-blue robes trailing behind her like the ripples of the lake. 

With each step, the water seems to part beneath her feet, revealing the silhouette of a woman long thought lost to the depths. You.

“y/n!”

Azriel instinctively moves forward, hand reaching out towards you. Cassian, however, restrains him, a powerful grip on his brother’s arm preventing any impulsive advance.

Rhysand's eyes widen as you approach, a slow and haunting revelation unfolding in the dim light. It is you, standing right in front of them. In your blood and flesh. But your eyes–your eyes, once bright with life, now mirror the opaque shroud of mist hovering around you.

“This can’t be,” Rhysand breathes, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief coloring his tone. “How?

“King Hybern resurrected your sister from the magic of the Cauldron the same way he did with Jurian. You see, Tamlin was desperate to get Feyre back at that time. He let his guard down, allowing Ianthe to not only disclose the location of the Archeron sisters but also the location of your dear sister’s remains. Tamlin buried her body somewhere in his lands but his father had kept her wings. As a trophy. Did you know her death was slow and cruel?”

A shudder courses through Rhysand. Cassian’s fist clench at his sides and he spares a glance toward Azriel, whose body is shaking. None of them knew the details of your murder. An apprehensive feeling churned in their stomachs and Rhysand felt the bile rise in his throat.

“The sons of Spring did not show her the same mercy they did your mother. They drugged her with faebane, rendering her powerless so that she could not fight back. They sloughed her finger off to gift to you. Then, they took her wings. Let her bleed to death."

Suddenly, Azriel’s chest tightens. He can’t breathe. A pained expression crosses his face and his knees go weak. Images of you being tortured to death flood his mind and all he can think about is how he failed you. Cassian’s grip on him tightens even more, keeping him steady. 

“King Hybern was so sure he’d win the war that he kept your sister hidden. He knew the Shadowsinger was her mate so he drugged her with faebane the same way the sons of Spring did. He didn’t want any of you finding out she was alive.”

“Hybern didn’t want to ruin the surprise. After his victory, he had planned to take you all back to the castle to torment you with her live state. Only to have you die at her hands. Of course, as you can see, that didn’t work out. Briallyn knew of her resurrection and brought her to me.”

Azriel can’t take his eyes off of you. His shadows dart toward you, slithering up your legs and caressing every inch of you. They linger on your wings. You don’t move. You don’t even blink.

But you’re alive. 

All this time you had been alive. That nightmare he had, it was real. You were calling out to him, asking for help. Tears sting at his eyes. That tug he had felt from your shared bond. It was also real. And the tattoo that had reappeared on his skin was not a cruel trick from the Cauldron. But a sign.

“I’ve become very familiar with your sister. She’s very powerful but I’m sure you knew that.”

Rhysand’s gaze flickers to where you stand, heart aching. It’s you but not you. Unlike Azriel, he can’t help but think what if this is all a trick? An illusion to get him to side with Koschei? Cassian meets his worried gaze. They both glance toward Azriel and then exchange a look.

“Let her go.” Cassian finally speaks, hazel eyes glaring at the darkness before them. “And take me instead.”

“Lord of Bloodshed,” Koschei addresses Cassian in an amused manner. “What a most gracious offer. Unfortunately, for you, I have no desire to replace y/n. You, however, are welcome to join me of your own free will.”

“While I am confined to this lake, y/n is going to do everything I physically cannot. She’ll be my proxy, my spymaster. Isn’t that right?”

"Yes, master.”

The words slip from your lips like ice, each syllable devoid of the warmth and affection that once filled them. Azriel's heart lurches in his chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears the lifeless tone of your voice. 

"No," Azriel growls, the sound reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. His voice, usually steady and composed, now carries an edge of desperation and fury. “You have no right to her. She’s mine.”

Rhysand keeps his hands in his pockets, hiding the fact that they’re slightly trembling. He eyes you once more, pure agony seeping into his very core. He mentally takes a deep breath and looks back toward the looming shadow over the lake, mustering all his strength to feign indifference. 

“I don’t understand how this is a gift.”

“Here’s the deal, Rhysand. You help free me from this lake and I free y/n from my control. It’s as simple as that. Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a week to think about it.”

All seven of Azriel’s siphons ignite in a cobalt blaze of raw power. He will not let Koschei control you. You’ve already suffered enough. Cassian struggles to maintain his hold, his grip faltering against the force of Azriel's will. 

“Azriel, no!”

The sound that erupts from Azriel was more animal than human—a deep, throaty growl that spoke of primal fury. He breaks free from Cassian, stumbling forward. He regains his footing with ease, rushing toward the lake. Toward the looming figure. Toward you. He’s so close, the water lapping at his boots when your clouded eyes finally meet his.

Burning pain courses through Azriel’s veins, bringing him to his knees and suddenly, he feels like he’s on fire. Your power takes hold over him, penetrating to the core of his being, carving through the marrow of each bone. He knows the fire is not real. It’s only an illusion but it feels as if every single cell in his body is being tormented with the worst agony imaginable. He can barely hear himself scream over the roaring pain in his ears.

Two strong hands clamp onto Azriel’s shoulders and he writhes against it, fighting it. “No,” his voice is a mere hoarse whisper as Rhysand uses his own power to pull him out of your illusion.

As Rhysand’s tendrils of darkness engulf Azriel, the last thing he sees are your eyes. They’re still clouded over, devoid of their usual luster. Yet, against the backdrop of emptiness, tears escape from them.

**

Azriel wakes to a dull ache in his head. He feels the gentle caress of his shadows against his face, attempting to alleviate the headache that grips him. With a slow blink, he reluctantly greets the soft illumination of his room at the riverhouse. Memories of what happened earlier flood back with startling clarity and his wings quiver involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the anguish that had ravaged his spirit. He doesn’t care that it was you who inflicted that pain upon him.

It pales in comparison to the pain you must be feeling inside. A mere glimpse of the raw emotions raging within you was enough to pierce Azriel's heart. Like a tempestuous storm, the waves of pain surged through your bond. But then, abruptly, he was shut out.

The image of your tear stained cheeks as you brought him to his knees plagues him with uneasiness. It’s this restless unease that stirs him, prompting him to rise from the bed. He looks toward his door, his shadows curling against his ears. Heavy with determination, he makes his way towards Rhysand’s office.

When Azriel's shadows forcefully swing the doors open, the entire inner circle stands before him. Their expressions betray the weight of their recent discussions. The room falls into a silence, thickened with tension. They had been discussing you. Without him. His hands clench into tight fists, his simmering anger threatening to spill over.

“Azriel,” Feyre greets him with a tense smile. “How are you feeling?”

Azriel’s eyes lock onto Rhysand. Anguish and resentment churn within him and Rhysand's posture stiffens in response

“We have to approach this situation with caution,” Rhysand says, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice despite the weight of their predicament.

“Caution?” Azriel nearly growls, prompting Cassian to inch toward him. “She is my wife! My mate! And you expect me to just sit here and wait for your approval to save her?”

Rhysand frowns, his violet eyes flaring. “You think I don’t hurt too?” He exclaims, his voice breaking as he utters his next words. “She is my sister!”

A hand rests on Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian’s. “I want to save her too. Trust me, I do. But we can’t just jump into–”

Azriel shakes Cassian’s hand off, his shadows hissing toward the taller male. “What if it were Nesta?”

Cassian frowns and he spares a glance toward his mate, who is watching the scene unfold with a somber look on her face. Azriel releases a frustrated huff before redirecting his gaze towards Rhysand, a pointed finger aimed accusingly at his friend and High Lord. 

"If it were Feyre," he insists, his voice tinged with both desperation and conviction, "you would see no reason."

Rhysand's silence speaks volumes.

"I failed her once," Azriel continues, firm and resolute. "I will not fail her again."

But Rhysand's response is unwavering. "I can't let you go. You have to understand.”

Azriel's jaw tightens. "You can't stop me," he counters in defiance, wings flaring out behind him.

"As your High Lord, I–”

"I'm done," Azriel cuts off sharply before Rhysand can go any further. He’s well aware of the weight of his words but he doesn’t allow them to bring him down. You are his mate, the tether to his soul, and he will put you above all else. Even his family. 

 "I resign as Spymaster of the Night Court.”

Feyre's eyes glisten with tears as she approaches Azriel, brushing off Rhysand's attempt to hold her back. "Azriel, please," she implores, her voice trembling with emotion. She knows what Azriel must be feeling. She knows because she lived it herself when Rhysand died after the war. But she also knows–or at least, hopes–that there’s another way to bring you back home. She’s already making plans in her mind to reach out to Helion.

"Don't go. We'll find a way to bring her back, I swear it. Just give us time."

Azriel shakes his head, the thought of waiting to rescue you souring in his mouth. He can't bear the thought of you in pain, needing him, while he stands idle. The urgency to act gnaws at his soul, a primal instinct driving him to protect you at any cost.

“You’ll abandon your family then?” Amren asks. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual façade of indifference, a faint glimmer in her eyes betrays the struggle.

“I will not abandon my mate.” Azriel says, taking a step back. “She’s my family too.”

"Don't do this," Rhysand pleads as he takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched toward his brother.

Azriel takes another step back, his hazel eyes darting across the room, absorbing the silent pleas etched on the faces of the inner circle. He loves them but he loves you more. 

When his gaze locks with Rhysand's again, Rhysand's heart sinks. He realizes that Azriel's mind is already set. His brows knit together in a pained expression. He doesn’t want it to end like this.

"I will not hold this against you," Rhysand manages, his voice strained.

How can he hold this against Azriel? When he would do the same for Feyre. When you, his sister, have been brought back to life only to be imprisoned by Koschei. A gasp fills the room as he drops to his knees. 

"But please... just...please..."

The words catch in his throat, choked by the overwhelming grief and helplessness that engulf him. His shoulders slump in defeat as tears blur his vision. Feyre instinctively wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. A brief sanctuary in the midst of his shattering world.

He knows he cannot make Azriel promise anything and Azriel knows this too. Despite the grim circumstances, there is a flicker of solace in Rhysand knowing that whatever terrors may come, you won't face them alone.

“I’m sorry,” is all Azriel says before winnowing away.

**

Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves back behind his wings when he arrives at the familiar lake. His gaze immediately seeks out the water's edge, where wisps of mist still linger. There's no sign of the white swan he had seen earlier.

"I knew you would come around, Shadowsinger," Koschei's voice taunts from the shadows.

"Where is she?" Azriel demands.

Koschei's laughter carries on the wind, but he concedes. You emerge from the surrounding trees, your eyes widening in shock as you lock gazes with Azriel. This time, your eyes are clear, unclouded, and Azriel's heart twists with recognition as he memorizes the exact shade of your eyes all over again.

"You can't be here," you protest, and Azriel's shadows peek out from behind his wings, reacting to the sound of your voice. It's you. It’s really you.

Your eyebrows furrow, mirroring the same pained expression Rhysand had worn just moments ago. You recognize the gleam in his eyes. "No," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't do this. You have to go back. Go back right now!"

Tearing his gaze off of you, Azriel looks toward the ominous silhouette of Koschei. He can feel the air thicken with anticipation, awaiting his next words. He continues to ignore your protests, even as you frantically rush toward his side. 

 “As long as you have control over her, you have control over me.” Azriel says and then drops to  his knees in submission. 

"My, my, my. What a lovely surprise," Koschei remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Get up!" You cry out, your hands clutching at Azriel's arms in a desperate attempt to pull him away from the lake. Away from Koschei's grasp. "Azriel, get up!"

Azriel’s knees remain rooted to the spot but his body leans into your embrace. His eyes flutter shut as he allows himself a fleeting moment to revel in the warmth of your presence—the warmth he had yearned for over centuries. The warmth he thought he would never feel again.

His eyes open and though Koschei is a mere shadow a couple of feet away, he can feel his gaze burning into his soul.

“I’ll serve you too,” Azriel finally says, sealing his fate alongside yours in the grasp of the death god.

**

"What have you done?" Your voice trembles with disbelief, your eyes still wide with shock as you stare up at Azriel, your hands reaching out to grasp his face. After Azriel swore his loyalty to Koschei, the death god had granted you both permission to be alone. He sent you to his sister’s old cottage, where you’d be staying for now.

Azriel's heart swells at the touch of your warm, soft hands against his skin. He wipes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks, his own emotions overwhelming him. "You're alive," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rests his hands on your face.

His fingers trace the familiar contours of your features. Every line, every curve is evidence to the reality of your presence. A presence he had long thought lost to him for eternity. The Cauldron had gifted him once more. Here you are, tangible and real. Alive. He can barely believe his eyes.

As Azriel's fingers brush against your face, his shadows dance eagerly in his wake, reaching out to join in the tender caress. They yearn for the sensation of your skin, their touch as gentle as a whisper, expressing their overwhelming joy in silent echoes. "I love you. I love you. I love you," they chant in a chorus of happiness and the bond in your chest sings back in a language only you three understand.

Despite the tears streaming down his face, there’s such a deep and profound warmth in Azriel’s eyes. As he looks at you, it’s like sunlight breaking through dark stormy clouds. You want to bask in its golden glow but as a thought crosses your mind, you abruptly shrink back from him and your lip quivers.

“I hurt you. I-I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop it. I hurt you. I made you scr–”

Azriel smiles at you, bringing you back into his protective embrace. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” you breathe, eyes searching for any trace of pain or repulse. You find none and though unleashing your power on your mate was against your will, your guilt threatens to consume you. “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry you’re here.”

"Don't be," he murmurs softly, cradling your head against his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, a gentle reassurance of his unwavering presence. He had lost you once. He’s not going to lose you again. 

With a heartfelt sigh, he pulls you even closer. “I’m right where I want to be.”

Slowly but surely, the cascade of tears dwindled, leaving a trace of dampness on your cheeks and Azriel’s leathers. In your mate’s arms, you finally have the courage to voice your deepest fear.

"I'm scared, Az. What if I hurt you again? Hurt someone else? What if I do something worse?”

The vulnerability in your voice tugs at his heartstrings, igniting a fierce determination to shield you from any harm. He’d do anything for you.

“You can do no wrong in my eyes.” Azriel responds, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He then inhales deeply, flooding his senses with your scent. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”

Azriel then pulls away, just enough to look at you again. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you but I’m here now. I won’t fail you this time.”

Your gaze softens. You send a wave of pure love through the bond and Azriel feels his heart flutter at the sensation he’s been deprived of for so long.

“You never failed me, Az.”

Azriel's face breaks into a radiant smile and you smile back at him. It lights up the darkness that had weighed heavily on his heart for centuries. "I love you," his voice is barely above a breath, reveling in the blush that takes over your cheeks in response.

He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he clasps your left hand. His gaze lingers on the lunar tattoo on your arm that matches his for a moment before sliding your wedding ring back onto your finger.

Holding your gaze, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "My mate," he murmurs against your skin. He then kisses the ring on your finger, the cobalt gem glowing in response. “My wife.”

"I love you," you say back, your arms winding around his neck as your fingers caress the soft strands of his hair. He yields to you, allowing himself to be drawn closer.  You kiss the corner of his mouth. "My mate."

Then, finally, you press your lips against his. "My husband," you declare softly, sealing your bond with a kiss that echoes the depths of your devotion and commitment to each other. 

And for the first time in centuries, Azriel sleeps soundly with you in his arms. Free from the torment of nightmares that had haunted him for so long.

Only to wake up and realize it’s because he’s now living in one.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! When writing this, I didn't intend for there to be more parts so for now, it's a one-shot. I left the ending open-ended to allow you to interpret it how you want and also, leave room for a sequel in case I ever do want to go back to this. That being said, while I don't have ideas for a sequel in mind as of right now, I did come up with a backstory for Az & reader in this little au so I might write a prequel on how their relationship came to be.

I also have another Az x Rhys's sister series. It is written in third person and it's more of an Az x OC series. You can find it here, if interested. But I do intend to make this au different than that one.

tagging: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444

[xxsabitoxx]

How the Pillars react to your death

Important note: all of these deaths occur during the infinity castle arc, heavy and implied spoilers. Rengoku’s reaction to your death takes place before Mugen Train! Reader’s gender is unspecified.

Warnings: this post contains spoilers for the final arc of the manga. This includes implied spoilers for various characters. Please do not read this if you don’t want to be spoiled and don’t blame me if you go ahead and read it anyways lol

A/N: I wrote this whole post in my head while showering last night and I’m honestly offended it took me 3x as long to actually write it.

Giyu 

“CAWWW! DEAD! KOCHO SHINOBU AND L/N Y/N ARE DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!” Giyu’s body comes to a screeching halt, Tanjiro shooting past him before falling to his knees as violent sobs wracked his body. Giyu, on the other hand, is frozen in place, a sob stuck in his throat. Shinobu’s death was a punch to the gut, but you? For the first time since Sabito had died, Giyu felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. Yet, nothing would come out, those tears wouldn’t break the barrier and slip down his cheeks. His tight throat would not let the sob escape. There was no possible way you were gone, you promised him you’d be okay. Though, childish beliefs like that reminded him of his own faults. Once again, he couldn’t protect the people he cared about. Rather than wallowing in sudden grief, he began moving again, past Tanjiro who was struggling to get back up. He needed to keep moving, if he didn’t stop, he was certain he would collapse entirely and never get up again. He couldn’t let your sacrifice go to waste. 

Shinobu 

Her feet barely hit the ground, body manoeuvring through the endless castle with one destination in mind. “CAWWW! DEAD! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING UPPER MOON TWO!” She stumbles, shock hitting her like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Her mind is racing, not willing to believe what the crow had just said to be true. You had steered away from the plan. In a desperate attempt to save Shinobu’s life you tried to defeat Upper Two yourself. Hot, angry tears are spilling down her cheeks, hand clutching her heart as she tries to understand. “Why would you do this? Why wouldn’t you take my word for it and go with Tomioka? Look what you did… you went and got yourself killed,” Yet again, Upper Two had taken something precious to her. One word flashed through her mind, alongside your beautiful face. Revenge. She would get her revenge, not only for Kanae, but for you. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be with you soon.” 

Rengoku 

It’s quiet, too quiet even. You should be back by now, the sun has fully risen. Kyojuro’s heart is hammering in his chest, doom creeping up his spine. He has an unshakable bad feeling about your late arrival. His worst fears are confirmed when your crow arrives without you. “No…” breathless, as if all the air is being ripped from his lungs. “Don’t say it…” his knees are giving out as your crow lands on the wooden porch. “T-they’re gone…aren’t they?” he chokes it out, the words are as bitter and burning as bile. Your crow only caws, soft and full of sorrow, unable to share the proper message as Kyojuro begins to sob. He’s curling in on himself, crying so loudly but unable to hear it due to the intensity of the ringing in his ears. It’s a panic attack manifesting in the most intense form. He can’t fathom a world without you, nevermind having to live in one. Senjuro is rushing to his brother's aid, seeing your crow gives him more than enough information to know as tears well in his eyes. 

Tengen

He’s kneeling dutifully outside of Nezuko’s room, Shinjuro by his side. His wives are inside, too stubborn to sit out and not help at all. Their excuse being that Nezuko saved his life, they owe her the same kind of protection now. You on the other hand, were too determined, leaving your retirement to fight the battle against the demon lord himself. Nothing Tengen nor his wives said could convince you to stay on the sidelines. His heart is sinking the moment your crow appears in the distance, he’d recognize it anywhere. “N-no… don’t you dare…” Tengen’s voice is cracking as it lands, Shinjuro is turning his head the other way, knowing what is to come. “Don’t you dare say they are dead…” his voice is rising in his panic, he knows the answer. The commotion has Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru running outside. The moment Hina’s eyes land on your crow, a violent sob escapes her chest, falling to her knees as Makio and Suma come to the same conclusion. “T-they’re dead…aren’t they?!” Makio sobs, Tengen can’t raise his head as your crow delivers your final message. 

Mitsuri 

She’s frozen in place as a crow comes directly for her, fear is ebbing through her body, a cold sweat forming on her brow. She knows the message before the crow can even utter it. “No! Go back! I don’t want to hear it!” Obanai is frozen beside her, grabbing her arm so she doesn’t collapse. The crow circles around her, cawing woefully as she begins to cry. “I-I don’t want to know! Don’t tell me!” she’s hiccupping as Obanai tries to pull her forward, they need to keep moving. “Mitsuri…” his voice is surprisingly soft, the crow is still circling overhead. “We need to hear the message…” she shakes her head, hands coming up to cover her ears as tears slip down her cheeks. The crow caws again, Obanai signals for it to deliver the message. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON ONE!” The crow continued on about who lived and who died, what was important is that upper moon one was dead. That didn’t matter to her though, no she couldn’t even hear the rest of the message over the ringing in her years. Mitsuri let Obanai tug her along, they needed to keep moving at whatever the cost. 

Muichiro 

“CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” He keeps running, uncertain as to why he feels a tightness in his chest at the crow’s message. “THEY DIED DURING A CONFLICT WITH UPPER TWO!” He’s still moving, more so concerned over his unexpected and overwhelming sadness. Why am I sad? I don’t even remember that name… but then your kind smile is flashing before his eyes and the world is crashing down around him. He comes to a screeching halt, eyes wide as he finally pieces together the message. “y/n…” how could he ever forget? Before he realizes it, he’s sniffling. Tears blur his vision for a moment before he blinks them away. He begins to move again, the sadness gripping his chest is slowly fading, fading until he can’t even remember why he got teary eyed in the first place. He needs to remember the task at hand… where was he heading again? 

Obanai

The flapping of wings catches him off guard, head craning upwards as the crow begins to caw. The noise is full of sorrow, which can only mean it bears bad news. “Obanai…” Mitsuri is watching the animal circle above them, her heart pounding erratically at the endless possibilities of the message it may share. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED IN BATTLE AGAINST UPPER MOON ONE!” Obanai’s feet are slowing, hitting the floor beneath him with a little too much force as the message rings through his head over and over. “N-no… oh… Iguro I…” Mitsuri is crying, staring at the man beside her as the world seems to cave in on him. It’s as if everything is in slow motion for a few beats in time. The words the crow uttered felt foreign, your name paired with ‘dead’ didn’t make any sense in his mind. It was impossible really, there was no way you were dead. You had gone to face Upper One with Gyomei, Sanemi, Muichiro… four hashira against upper One and you didn’t make it? You were so strong… no the message can’t be correct. “Kanroji… let’s keep moving.” he’s turning it off, every swelling emotion is being suppressed as he takes off again. Mitsuri is left with no choice but to wipe her tears and follow. 

Sanemi

Upper Moon One is standing before him, Gyomei at his side. This battle needed to be won, if not, everything would be lost. The demon before him needed to be put down, there was no other option. He’s talking, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen. Rather, Sanemi is gauging every vital point he can strike and how to go about doing it. “CAWW! I BRING A MESSAGE!” he doesn’t glace up, nothing that crow could say would be able to break his focus. “L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” except for that. Sanemi inhales deeply, eyes widening significantly as he debates on if he heard the message correctly. “THEY DIED DURING AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO! UPPER MOON TWO IS NOW DEAD!” it feels as if all the air in the room had been sucked away with the crow’s flapping wings. Upper One no longer seemed smug about the message after the addition of Upper Two being defeated. Beside him, Gyomei is crying. Sanemi doesn’t realize it, but so is he. He’s oblivious to the hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Still, his patience remains intact, waiting for Gyomei’s signal to attack the high ranked demon. Now, he has absolutely nothing to lose. Kagaya is gone, now you are gone, it is likely the rest of the Hashira wouldn’t make it out of this… he has nothing left to fight for. 

Gyomei “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING MUZAN!” Tears flow freely as he fights, part of him wishes he hadn’t been able to hear the message in the first place. You had met the unfortunate fate of encountering Muzan himself. It was likely that you were alone, if you weren’t, you were likely the strongest in your group. It pained him, knowing you likely died a brutal death. That pain fueled his attacks, taking every ounce of heartbreak and despair out on the demon before him. You didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved a fate that cruel. He keeps moving, mind reeling yet completely focused. It’s as if he is fighting in a bubble, the world muffled around him yet perfectly clear all at once. Too many emotions are raging through his soul to really pinpoint just one of them. He can only hope you’ll wait for him on the other side, he can only pray you’re watching over him at this very moment. Guiding him, giving him strength. “I’ll meet you again soon, don’t worry. I promise I won’t keep you waiting much longer. Wait for me, please? You will, won’t you?”

[acotars]

full listen through complete, here are all my initial thoughts in one place

finally post malone delivering the vocals we always knew he had i love this man’s voice

gorgeous harmonies

i’m sorry charlie puth?????? depressing to hear wish she could unrecord that.

who’s gonna hold you like me? because we’re CRAZYYYY. who’s gonna hold you? — me. KILLLLLLL ME (me-e-e!)

my boy only breaks his favorite toys x my boy billie eilish mashup when

down bad waking up in BLOOD??? in BLOOD?????

staring at the sky chinese satellite moment ?? staring at the sky would’ve could’ve should’ve when i’m screaming at the sky moment??

and i’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free :(((( this makes my whole body ache

you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days and im just getting color back in my face :(

i’m having his baby!!!!!!!! first laugh of the album. so far it’s nothing but heart aching and then she’s like lol i’m pregnant jk lmao!!!

fresh out the slammer first second sounds like old western like guns drawn dueling in a ghost town

to the one who says i’m the girl of his american dreams UGH!!! i love her songwriting in this one it’s so mundane and winky. it’s so stolen moments of real life it’s so spoken word it’s so everything to me

my friends all smell like weed or little babies LMAO this feels like the sexy baby of ttpd

florence welch the woman that you are………

throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks / drove my car off the road to the lookout could’ve followed my fears all the way down

what if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind. INSANE LYRIC. insane lyric. terrifying horrifying lyric. she is a master

i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault and then LOWERCASE LOML. lowercase love of my life. lowercase loss of my life.

guilty as sin is the most painful breakup song i’ve ever heard it’s so awful it hurts so bad i can’t even think about it without crying

love the screaming in who’s afraid of little old me but i fear in some ways the lyrics feel more juvenile than the rest of the album

i can fix him is and cowboy like me are sisters

LOSS OF MY LIFE??????????? LOSS!!!! of my LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

793 dead 1 bazillion injured

i can do it with a broken heart spotify video just being eras tour footage lol just shoot me. just shoot me in the chest

lights camera bitch smile 1 2 3 let’s go bitch

jehovah’s witness suit is exactly what i’m talking about with her lyricism it’s so real life details it’s so moments out of context turned into poetry

were you writing a book??? :((( :’(((( the desperation of wanting there to be a reason for it all and a reason for it all to be thrown away she’s so used to being used/mused :((((

the alchemy .,, i’ll pass. idc about this one sorry there’s too much matty and travis it makes me :/

YOU LOOK LIKE TAYLOR SWIFT???? AS THE OUTROOOOO she’s crazy for this she’s bonkers

i cried my way through clara bow and then started it over and cried again. and then spotify said oh did you want yoyok now??

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey y'all! It's been a busy few weeks, but thank you all who kept tagging me since I last surfaced : @Iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @prettygoododds, @blackberrysummerblog, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello, @rimeswithpurple, @emeryhall, @wellbelesbian, @bookish-bogwitch, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt, and @cosmicalart 

I've got a bit from everything to share today. Though the snippet from Cupid's Shield has technically been posted now, as of this morning.

And yes, I can count, I know some of these are more than six sentences. Do I care?

No.

Lol, I hope you enjoy!

From Saving Simon Snow: 

Baz is dead to the world when I wake up. The clock on the dresser reads ten a.m., which surprises me a little—I can’t remember the last time I slept past seven (other than in my jail cell, where there were no clocks and sleeping was pretty much the only thing to do). It doesn’t surprise me, however, that Baz is still asleep. He’s always been sluggish and cranky in the morning. Besides, yesterday was…well, yesterday was a lot. 

I’m still processing everything that happened, but my stomach tells me firmly that processing is far less important than eating, so I slip out of bed as quietly as I can, and dig through our suitcases for something to wear that isn’t sweated–through or jizz covered. 

From the Heart in the Well

“Who are you?” I shout, and if there’s a faint tremor in my voice, it’s not enough for Baz or the unknown above to tell. (I hope).

The creature above doesn’t respond, at least not in words. Instead, it shakes its head and lets out a ringing neigh. It’s a horse! I stare, bemused for a second, before I realise that what I’m hearing isn’t a typical animal sound. Instead, the neighing takes on the clearly recognisable tone of…laughter. The fucking thing is laughing at us!

From Snow Fox

Fiona’s radiating pride. “Brave as a lion, just like his mum,” she says. “You’ll show that mangy Snow Fox what it means to take on a Pitch.”

I can’t help but imagine my aunt's reaction to finding out that Simon knows quite well how to take on a Pitch. 

On my knees, whenever possible.

The thought prompts an unholy burst of laughter to try to fight past my lips, but I’m a master at containing my emotions. Even so, my lips twitch, but I manage to turn it into a polite cough. 

From TikTok Dancer: 

Snow paces at my side in silence with a pensive expression on his face, his hands clasped behind his back. 

My curiosity about this man is burning inside me, and it churns sickeningly in my gut with feelings of betrayal and animal lust. I want him. I hate him. And I don’t understand him. 

But the one thing I won’t do is be the first to break the silence. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

He starts breathing again, but doesn’t speak to me. Not at first. Instead, he rushes to pile wood on the fire and then fumbles desperately for his own fire starting kit in the pouch he carries tied ‘round his waist. I’ve turned to watch him, morbidly curious about how he’s going to react to my betrayal. And it was a betrayal, I’m not fooling myself about that. I knew that Simon desperately wanted a ship to come. I knew how much getting off this island meant to him.

And I denied him that. 

From Cupid’s Shield:

I would have known something was wrong regardless from the way his smiles disappeared (even if he’d never smile at me, he smiles constantly at most anyone else, and I soak his happiness up vicariously every chance I get). 

I was so disturbed by his misery that I was tempted to invite him home with me. I didn’t—my family would have eaten him alive—but I wanted to. 

That early winter afternoon, we were all roused from the torpor of pre-holiday ennui by screams coming from the great lawn. I was in our tower room when it happened, and when I looked out to see a dragon strafing the lawn and Simon Snow running to face him…well, I didn’t think, I just acted. 

I raced out of Mummers and climbed to the ramparts.

From my COBB project:

“Snow, what the fuck,” he says, his voice coming out as a wheeze because of the way I’ve got him squeezed under my own bulk. 

“Shut up!” I snap. “You idiot! You nearly broke [redacted]!”

Baz stiffens under me when I call him an idiot, but when I accuse him, his muscles go slack, meaning I sink into him before I can stop myself. I swallow hard at how nice he feels against me, but then I tense up. This is beyond inappropriate. 

Tags and : @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @messofthejess, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @theearlgreymage, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @best--dress, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @nausikaaa, @artsyunderstudy, @ileadacharmedlife, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii,

[sevendeadlyheadcanons]

All the sins with a s/o who can see and speak with ghosts and spirits. One day they bring up a spirit that’s been lingering around the sin, seemingly watching them and finds that it’s someone who was very important to them (each sin) how would they each react? (You can decide who the important person be, as I know some characters have canon important people in their lives and others we don’t know if they do) thank you!🤍

Hello! You asked for this 4 years ago idk if you’re even still into NNT but let’s do it anyway

Meliodas

-Imagine you just see Elizabeth 106 times and he’s like “What’s up man?”

-All jokes aside if this man has lost so much and you probably see so many different people around him. It’s very endearing to see the amount of people this man has touched the hearts of.

-He doesn’t ask you about your abilities, but one day after hearing about his past from every fallen friend he has ever had and you break and you tell him everything

-He would pretend to be deadpan about it and be like “Oh how nice” but inside he is DYING and mourning them all.

-I think the one that would officially break him would be if he knows Escanor is watching over him. He would break down.

Diane

-DOLORES‼️‼️‼️ she was so sweet

-You tell her about her abilities and she thinks it’s really cool. You wait a while to tell her dolores has been watching over her just incase she reacts negatively

-When you do tell her she begins to SOB

-Dolores is very proud of her for fighting in a way that she wants to fight instead of being what Matrona wants her to be.

-Dolores is also proud of Diane and Matrona for realising that there is more to life than fighting

-Diane is in tears and begins to shout out to Dolores that she will always be her best friend and that she misses her dearly

-You have to comfort your big crying gf

Ban

-Oh boy

-Imagine ghost Kilia still a baby still following Ban around like she did when she was alive simply because she doesn’t know any better

-Ghost Zhivago and Selion also watching over him and making sure he’s ok

-You tell him one day and he’s like “Cool, another freak you’ll fit in nicely here”

-If you’re his partner i’m gonna assume Elaine is still dead but she’s just happy that Ban managed to move on and find happiness.

-He has a whole club of deceased found family

-You one day tell him about his whole band of ghostly spectators and he simply grins.

-He’s too ‘manly’ to cry infront of you but he’s absolutely sobbing on the inside. He just shows a little grin

-“Guess I gotta lot of people to make proud now huh,” he sort of says to the sky.

-You hug him and he hugs back. Very emotional moment.

King

-“There’s been a green fairy following you around” “Yeah Helbram. I see him too he lives in my hat lmao”

-He doesn’t believe you when you first tell him about your abilities but you get a ghost to tell you the amount of coins he has in his pocket in order to gain his trust and he’s like “woah ok never mind”

-I guess a lot of fairies died while he was off with Diane so maybe they would tap in from time to time.

-They were originally vengeful but they’ve come to see how this impacted King and they realise it wasn’t his fault and are now mostly supportive

-You tell him about this one day while you’re both sitting under a tree

-He’s flabbergasted

-He keeps apologising and apologising again and again and you have to constantly reassure him they’re not mad and they’re rooting for him (you leave out that they were originally mad for his own mental health)

-You have to hug him to reassure him that this is in no way shape or form his fault

Gowther

-You don’t tell him, he finds out by reading your thoughts after he sees you staring into the sky at a different ghost one day and he’s like “neat”

-Imagine he hasn’t regained his memories yet and Nadja and Goatdad are following him. And you’re like “Do you know who these are?” and he’s like “No lol”

-Okok but after he regains his memories you tell him about his dad and dead girlfriend and he does choke up a little bit.

-They are both so so proud of him and you tell him that. He tells them (facing the opposite direction of them because he can’t see them) that he couldn’t have done it without them and thanks them.

-They both give him a lil kiss on the head and pat on the back and you have to narrate this for him because he obviously can’t feel it

-He is a mess. You have to give him a non spiritual hug and kiss.

Merlin

-When you tell her she has several questions including how often you see them, where they mostly linger, if you can enter the capital of the dead etc

-I can imagine that the entirety of Belialuin are watching her and they’re SO MAD like we all got DUNKED for THIS??

-Her father is also shaking his head disapprovingly at her.

-One day you ask her why there’s so many deceased people mad at her and she explains her background. That she was supposed to be a weapon for Belialuin. That they weren’t all supposed to die and things happened the way she didn’t intend it to.

-She is in great pain knowing that the ghosts from her past are disappointed in her but at the same time she knows things had to be the way they were in order for her to be the way she is. She has had over 3000 years to grieve and she simply has moved on.

-Merlin apologises to them, but tells them that this would never have happened if they treated her like the person she deserved to be treated as and was given the love she needed.

-This is very hard on her and you need to comfort her so badly, even if she’s too headstrong to confess that to you.

Escanor

-So he doesn’t particularly have any dead people in his past however Rosa was an adult when he was very young so we’re gonna pretend that she had passed away from old age (we don’t know much about her so it’s very possible)

-When you tell him about your abilities he thinks it’s very poetic. He feels very sorry for you and is always checking in to make sure you’re ok and that you didn’t see something horrific.

-When you tell him about Rosa he’s horrified. He didn’t know anything about her since he left his home country of Castellio so he wanted to assume she was alive and well.

-You have to comfort him in grieving her as well as tell him how proud she is of him. She checks in on him from time to time to make sure he’s alright and living the fulfilled life she dreamed of him living.

-He constantly thanks her while sobbing on the floor

-You have to drag him away and give him the best cuddle ever

Elizabeth

-Her adoptive mama will be watching over her so proud of the strong girl she became

-When they defeated the supreme deity she was by her side and making sure her daughter was ok

-When you tell her about your powers she is amazed and also upset by the heavy burden you carry

-You eventually tell her that her mum is watching over her proud of all that she accomplished and she begins to cry

-Her mama is the closest thing to a mum she’s ever had and she is just so happy to know that she’s by her side always

-You tell her that her mum loves her and wants her to make sure that her father is well and looked after

-She cries happy tears and does exactly as she says

-As always you give her a firm, supportive cuddle

I am so rusty I had to do so much research for this one because all but Gowther lore has escaped my brain.

While doing my research i found out in 4KOTA it reveals that Dolores is still alive but I simply couldn’t figure out who she would mourn so I stuck to it.

Have an amazing day friends 💙💙💙

[brotherhoodoftheblade]

Okay, it’s almost 3 AM in the morning on a Monday, but we’re going to pretend it’s still Sunday. lol Haven’t forgotten I’m still meant to be working on my wips, even though I haven’t been in a writing mood the past few weeks. 

So here’s a new bit from The Deathless Divide (which will probably be kind of confusing if you haven’t read the first two chapters of it btw). ✨

(TW for violence and blood etc.)

~*~

Something was hunting him.

Of that much Percy was certain.

It wasn’t the first time. There was nothing good to be found in the purgatorial wastelands, but the lost souls that roamed the desolate land – turned feral with insatiable hunger and an eternity of torment – were the most hellish thing about the place. His last encounter with such a creature had left him half feral himself, palms scrapped raw and bloody against the large rock he’d gripped tightly despite the burning pain, breaths coming in ragged gasps as he brought the rock down again and again on the screaming, wailing man.

He hadn’t stopped, kept up his assault through every sickening tearing of flesh and crack of bone, until he no longer had the strength to raise his trembling arms. The rock had been smeared bright red with blood when he’d dropped it – the most colourful thing in all of Purgatory – his head spinning with too rapid breaths, tears sliding down his face and dripping off his chin as the creature gurgled and keened like the barely human thing it had become. He’d retched, though naturally nothing had come up; he had nothing left inside him but blood waiting to be spilled, after all. His forearm – blood beginning to congeal at last where the creature had bitten off a chunk of him – throbbed madly. He’d pushed himself up onto shaking legs and stumbled away, with only thought that he had to keep moving.

He had to put as much distance between himself and that blood-thirsty beast as he could. Before it healed. Before it picked up his scent and began to pursue him again.

The trouble with being in a land of the dead, of course, was that he couldn’t kill anything; not even himself. All he could do to obstruct the human-turned-fiend that was so hell bent on trying to fucking eat him was to break its damned legs and run as far and fast as he could before it was made whole once more. And it would be again, far too soon. Like Prometheus, bound to a rock to have his liver eaten only for it grow back overnight so it could be torn out again and again in an eternal cycle of torment, the denizens of Purgatory could bleed and break bodily only to soon find themselves restored so they could suffer anew.

Percy had – blessedly – ceased to find himself returned to the wretched place every time he drifted to sleep, but still, it had yet to release its hold on him. The fear that it might never let him go sat cold and heavy within him – and what then? How long might it be before he became like the thing that hunted him?

His eyes darted among the trees, searching out movement, but all was shadow.

His heart thudded dully. He had to keep moving.

He’d found a good, sturdy branch along the way and carried it now, upright against his shoulder like a soldier’s musket – and god, what wouldn’t he have given for a proper musket and bayonet right now. At least the branch, though heavy, was far less unwieldy than the rock had been. If he was lucky he’d wake up before he had another nasty confrontation – but how often was he ever that lucky? Better to remain vigilant. Seeing and hearing nothing out of the ordinary, he turned to continue along his way.

A man stood before him, a mere arm’s length away.

Percy gasped sharply, hands scrabbling at the branch before he got a firm hold of it and thrust it straight at the creature’s head like a battering ram. There was a nasty crunching sound as the blow caught the man right in the face, sending him reeling back, trying and failing to regain his balance before he hit the ground. The shadowy form swore viciously, cradling its mouth and nose between its hands.

Heart pounding madly, Percy gripped the branch so hard his fingers ached, and moved to press his advantage. Raising the branch with both arms he plunged it down atop the man, only to hit hard-packed earth as the figure rolled rapidly out of the way and up onto its knee. A large hand shot out and seized his arm, and Percy’s mouth opened in a soundless scream as the world fell away.

Bright light pierced his eyes and he squeezed them closed reflexively. The hand on his arm tightened. Tensing, he shook it off.

“Perseverance,” a man’s voice said reassuringly, “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

“I know,” Percy murmured, blinking as he forced himself to open his eyes. There was no light in Purgatory, and flowers certainly didn’t perfume the air; this was Paradise. “And do not call me that, if you please.”

The grass was soft beneath him as he lay supine upon it – when had that happened? Never mind. Percy had already half-given up trying to make sense of anything that had occurred since his unexpected death. The only thing that mattered at the moment was that he’d apparently bashed an angel in the face.  The thought gave him the slightly hysterical urge to laugh his head off. The “angel” in question didn’t seem angry about it – thankfully – and knelt solicitously beside him as his vision cleared. The man was young – couldn’t have been older than twenty – dark-haired, and -

Oh. And rather handsome at that. Quite uninjured and unbloodied as well.

Must’ve healed himself, Percy thought. Must be nice.

“Ah, yes, I should’ve thought -” the boy’s pale cheeks flushed as he swallowed his words, then cleared his throat. “You prefer Percy, I believe.”

His accent was that of an upper-class English gentleman, not merely the product of a middle-class education as was Percy’s own. A gentleman of noble birth, like John.

“Among those of my close acquaintance, yes,” he said staidly, sitting up slowly. Of which you are not, he did not say but instead let the sense of them hang in a beat’s pointed silence. “I thank you exceedingly for the extraction and apologize for the, er, rather barbarous reception.”

He waved a hand, cringing half-comically, over his face. The young man gave a short laugh.

“Mea culpa,” he stated emphatically, shaking his head. “I oughtn’t to have appeared so near you without warning when you were already on the defense against the Lost. My eagerness to speak to you got the better of me, I confess.”

“To me?” Percy was unable to keep a note of wariness from his voice as he eyed the boy. “Why?”

“I have been trying to make contact with you to no avail since you were returned to the world of the living,” he explained, meeting his gaze earnestly.

His eyes were the deepest blue Percy had ever seen; not the blue of the summer sky above them, but the rich hue of sapphires.

“I am your new guardian angel,” the boy continued, extending a hand to him. “My name is Hector, Hector Dalrymple.”

Percy accepted the proffered hand and found himself swiftly pulled to his feet with unexpected strength, swaying a moment before regaining his equilibrium. The young man’s – Hector’s – hand tightened on his and Percy was relieved to note that they were of a similar height. At least he wasn’t trapped in the form of a small child as he’d been the first time he’d been raised from Purgatory by his mother.

“How new?” Percy asked, narrowing his eyes and pointedly raising his left arm with its torn, blood-stained sleeve. The chunk of flesh that had been bitten off had healed but not without leaving behind a gruesomely visible scar. “Because I think I’ve a complaint or two for you.”

The flush returned to Hector’s handsome face, much to Percy’s satisfaction. 

~*~

...and you’ll have to wait for next Sunday for more. At least I threw in a spoiler this time. :P

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

For You, I Would Ruin Myself | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This is a very self-serving fic lol. This is, indeed, something I do! Because of all of the shitty relationships I’ve been in! But of course I don’t have a person to be nice to me about it lol.

Warnings: talk of sex, shitty exes, stressful work environment

—————————

Bucky didn’t like how you slumped against the front door. He didn’t like the vacancy in your eyes or the downtrodden look on your face. “Hey, baby. Long day?” He joined you by the door and welcomed you into his arms. He smoothed a hand through your fallen curls, let his lips rest against your forehead. For nearly two weeks, you’d come home like this. Exhausted. Depleted. Bucky hated it. He hated your boss and your company and all of your clients.

Your head fell into his shoulder, and you nodded against his shirt. It was all you could muster. You just wanted a moment. A moment of calm and quiet and peace. Bucky gave you all the time you needed. He left kisses against your hair and gently slipped your bag from your shoulder. He was always so patient with you, so understanding. 

“I haaate my job,” you groaned. “My department head is a fucking idiot and I swear the manager wants to stick her hand up my ass so she can use me as a puppet”.

Bucky stifled his loud guffaw. Even half-dead, you were still the funniest person he’d ever met. “I’m sorry, sweets. Is there an end in sight to this nightmare or…?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and groaned again. You seemed groan a lot these days. “Not yet. We’re just supposed to ‘keep on truckin’ until we get word from corporate”.

Bucky frowned, “But you’ve been going in early and coming home late.”

“I know. I’m so tired that I wanna die.”

Dark circles shadowed your under-eyes. Bloody cracks dug into your cuticles. The stress wanted to pick you apart piece by piece until nothing remained. But what bothered you most wasn’t the deadlines or the endless emails. It was your severe lack of time with Bucky.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Buck. I feel terrible. I know you’re-”

Bucky brought his hands to your cheeks, silencing you. He felt the weight of your head resting against his palms, like your neck decided to take a long-needed break. “Don’t apologize, doll. I understand, okay? I just don’t like seeing you so exhausted. Seems to me like they’re taking advantage of you.”

You nodded. Unfortunately, your company’s bottom line didn’t look good. And the way they stripped money and resources from every department seemed almost criminal. They’d overwork and underpay every member on staff if it meant happy shareholders. And one of those overworked, underpaid employees was you. “If I can just hang on,” you sighed. “If I can just make it through this rough patch and impress the CFO, they’ll promote me- my project manager is sure of it. Things just suck right now.”

Bucky didn’t like the way they treated you. He didn’t like the long hours or the way they expected you to do the work of two- or three- people for the salary of one. He watched as this job slowly drained the life out of you. Each time you returned home, your light was a bit dimmer. And it took even more effort to help you shine again. 

“But I’m gonna stop complaining now,” you said. A manufactured smile replaced your frown, “Tell me about your day, babe.”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing exciting to report. Long briefing at the compound this morning. Meeting with Hill. Errands. Some laundry. Read over some intel Fury sent my way.” He dotted a kiss to your nose, “And I want you to complain as much as your little heart desires”.

You shrugged. Surely, Bucky didn’t wanna hear you ramble on about trailing averages. And you weren’t about to bore him with work-talk. “I’m good for now”, you shot him a wink. You decided instead to let your gripes scream inside your head. Bucky had been tortured enough, you wouldn’t bore him with statistical analysis.

“Okay, then how about we order some food and you can change into some comfy clothes? We have a new episode of Temptation Island to watch. Sound good?”

“Sounds great”, you said through a yawn.

“Then let’s pick a restaurant and get you some dinner. What do you wanna eat?”

Bucky watched your switch flip in real time. Your posture changed, your eyes brightened. A devilish grin stretched across your face. “I think you know what I wanna eat…”

Bucky eyed you, “um… pasta and garlic knots from Italiano’s?”

Oh, Bucky. So sweet. So innocent.

“No, babe-”, you sighed. “You.” One finger traced lazily across his bottom lip before trailing down his neck and hooking into the collar of his shirt. 

Bucky shook his head and gave you a chuckle. How you’d gone from downtrodden, overworked employee to sultry seductress baffled him. “Doll, what am I gonna do with you?”

“You could fuck me.” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “Am I crazy? Weren’t you just talking about how exhausted you are?”

You shrugged, “I mean, yeah. I’m exhausted, but I also wanna fuck you. Two things can be true at the same time, Barnes.”

This was just like you. Bucky loved your hunger for him, your needy lust. He found you nearly insatiable twenty four-seven, and loved every moment of it. You always wanted him. Always needed him desperately in bed. Or the shower. Or on the floor when the bedroom was too far away. You’d sent countless nudes that made missions more bearable. And the paragraph long texts in which you described everything you wanted him to do to you always made his cheeks flush. How your sex drive kept up with his was still a mystery. But he wasn’t complaining.

“Okay,” he laughed, “well let’s put food at priority number one, doll” 

“But wouldn’t you rather eat something else, Buck?”

He brought his hands to either side of your face and narrowed his eyes at you, “I just heard your stomach growl. And you just said that you’re so tired you wanna die.” He swept a thumb over your cheek and grew serious. “Let yourself rest tonight, okay? Let’s eat and relax and go to bed early.”

He expected it- but still laughed at your over-dramatic wink. “No, not like that. We’ll go to sleep early. You need it.”

He sent you to the bedroom with strict instructions to put on pajamas, “I mean, actual pajamas!” he called after you. “No lingerie!” Bucky couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth- no lingerie? He’d never imagined saying that to you. But he could keep it in his pants for a night or two if it meant that you got some much needed rest. He kissed you goodbye each morning at five and welcomed you home every night around eight- it was too much. Too much overtime, too many hours spent getting yelled at by your boss. And not nearly enough rest or time for yourself. 

“Alright, does this pass your ‘real pajamas’ test?” You did a quick spin for Bucky, revealing your outfit for the rest of the night: one of his shirts and a pair of cute underwear. “We both know I usually sleep naked soooo I feel like this is more than appropriate for ‘pajamas’.”

Bucky covered his face and granted you a nod. He didn’t want to make you feel weird or possibly spark some sort of self-consciousness in you, but the question gathering at the tip of his tongue had plagued him for months. He’d batted it away time and time again, banishing it to the back of his mind. But it returned, and he wanted an answer.

“Can I ask…” he cleared his throat. “Are you satisfied with- do we have enough sex? Am I giving you what you need?” He cringed. It was so awkward. So clunky. He truly couldn’t believe how clumsy his words were. But it was important.

Alarm shot through you. “Absolutely, Buck,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Our sex life is perfect- you’reperfect.”

You made your way to the couch and leaned against the back. There was something in the look you wore. Embarrassment? Dejection? Bucky wasn’t sure. But he knew it was his fault. And it wasn’t good. Before he could apologize, however, you mumbled something nearly unintelligible.

“I’m doing it again…” you muttered to yourself with a shake of your head. 

Bucky recognized your look: shame.

He didn’t want to ask- rather, he did want to ask. But didn’t know if he should. Something about the way you walked away, the way you mumbled under your breath. It almost seemed like you tried to find privacy without leaving the room. Like leaning against the couch while your shoulders curled in on you somehow protected you. 

“Are you sure? I only ask because you, um, you make a lot of those little jokes and innuendos and I… I wanna make sure you’re not trying to drop me a hint.” Bucky took a cautious step toward you. And then another. Until his feet rested only millimeters from yours. 

You rolled your eyes- but not at him. “I’m fine- sorry, babe. This has nothing to do with you. It’s just…” you sighed. A fire raged beneath your words that burned only you. “It’s this thing I do. This really annoying thing. Well, annoying to me”. You laughed a dark, broken laugh. Something was off.

Bucky decided not to poke or pry. He simply took the spot next to you want waited. If you wanted to elaborate, he’d listen. And if you didn’t, he’d be there just in case. But something sinister floated around in your mind. He could see it rippling. And he wanted to be there for you when it breached the surface.

“All of this sexual humor? All of the nudes I send and my near constant attempts to jump your bones? That’s what you’re referring to, right?” 

He nodded.  

Another eye roll. You couldn’t believe it was happening again. Well, you could believe it- you just wished it wasn’t true. How many times had you been through this? How many years did you work on trying to eliminate your stupid habit? You didn’t care if your therapist called it a “coping mechanism”- it made you cringe, and you hated yourself for doing it.

“It’s a stupid holdover from my ex- well, my most of my exes.”

Bucky wasn’t quite following. He stared at you with an unsure look and about a million questions rattling around in his head. But he didn’t know what to ask first. You were clearly upset, clearly troubled by whatever happened in those past relationships with shitty men who didn’t deserve you. And he didn’t want to upset you further. 

Bucky was in the dark. He saw no issue, had no problem with your suggestive sense of humor. And he didn’t quite understand why you’d be so upset about whatever little habit you carried with you- especially when work was slowly devouring your soul. He saw the evidence of your hellish schedule written all over your face. He saw the way you had to practically drag your body out of bed each morning, the way you pounded coffees and energy drinks just to get through the day. Why was this the moment in which your insecurity caught up with you?

“I’m sorry, doll. I think I’m confused,” he said. “I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

“I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel loved,” you blurted out. “Except for you.”

Bucky still wasn’t sure where this was going, but he knew he hated your exes.

“No one I dated in the past cared for me or prioritized me. None of them ever made me feel secure- I was never quite sure where I stood, you know? Their affections were always so hit or miss. Like, they’d give me a ton of love and attention for a few days, and then spend weeks treating me like I didn’t matter.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to fix whatever damage your past relationships did to you. But he knew you were tired- mentally and physically. And so he did the only thing he could think of- he picked you up and set you down on the cozy couch cushions. He ordered dinner. He got you a tea. And he let you talk.

“I always felt unsure, you know? I didn’t know how any of these guys actually felt about me. Or if they even felt anything for me at all. One guy actually kept me a secret from everyone in his life- he wouldn’t even talk to me in public…”

A concoction of heartbreak and rage flooded Bucky’s consciousness. How could anyone treat you that way?

“Anyway, there was one thing I knew they’d respond positively to- one thing they wouldn’t ignore.” You dropped your gaze down to your mug, too embarrassed to look Bucky in the eye. “When I felt them slipping or noticed their affection for me dwindling, I knew I could use sex to renew their interest in me.” 

The living room sat silent. Bucky stared at you, and you stared at your tea. You watched the tendrils of steam wafting off the surface and into the air as though it were your job. If you didn’t look at Bucky, if you kept your focus elsewhere, maybe he wouldn’t notice your damage. 

Part of you was perfectly fine stopping the story there. It would preserve what little dignity you had left, what fraction of respect Bucky still held for you. But the other part needed you to spill your guts. You were so depleted. So tired of putting on a façade. 

“I mean, the first few boyfriends I had actually admitted to me after we broke up that they only wanted me for sex- that they only got into a relationship with me so they could be the only one fucking me.” Your eyes remained downcast. “I’ve just been with so many people who made me feel like I had to earn their affection. And so, over the years, I just- I don’t know…”

You shared the silence for a moment before Bucky offered his help, “You got used to it?”

You nodded. “I accepted that I’m just a- that they saw me as an object. That my feelings and  needs don’t matter. And I know it’s pathetic that I stayed with any of those guys for longer than five minutes. But I’m so-” Your tear-filled eyes finally met Bucky’s. “I’m so desperate to be loved. Or, I was. And now, I have you. And I know you love me- you show me everyday just how much you care about me. But I’ve never been treated like this before… it’s unfamiliar territory, I guess. All I know is secret parking lot hook-ups and feeling like I have to give someone my body as payment for love.”

Being this vulnerable, this raw and exposed, made your hands shake. Of course, you trusted Bucky with your past and with your heart. But showing him your shame and imperfections made you cringe. You feared you were supplying him with ammo, with reasons to treat you poorly. To leave. 

But he didn’t see you any different- he simply wished he’d found you sooner. Wished he could’ve saved you some heartbreak. He extended a hand and welcomed you into his arms. He held you close. And he listened without judgement. 

“I don’t know how to handle consistent love. And I feel like… I’m afraid the other shoe is gonna drop any minute. Like a switch is gonna flip and you’ll pull away from me without warning. And I’ll have to win you over again.” 

Bucky’s grip around you intensified. As though, if he wrapped his arms around you tight enough, he could transfer his love via osmosis. 

 “So I try to keep your interest with sex,” you said, you’re voice falling. “I try to make you want me.”

“Even when you’re exhausted…”

You nodded.

Knowing that the two of you’d had sex when you weren’t completely and totally into it made him nauseous. He knew what it felt like for others to have control of his body. He knew how uncomfortable and dehumanized it made him feel. And he hated that, more likely than not, you’d felt that way with him. Even if it only happened once, it was too many times.

Bucky’s silence made you nervous. He was probably mad- or hurt- by what you’d said. And you instantly regretted all of it. “Don’t get me wrong- the sex we have is perfect. It’s not like anything I’ve ever had and I pretty much wanna get in your pants the second I see you.” The familiar light returned to your eyes for just a moment, but the glimmer faded just as quickly as it appeared. “But sometimes I find myself forcing my own hand- even when I can barely stay awake- because I still feel like I have to fight for the love of the man I’m with.”

Bucky wanted to kill every man who’d ever hurt you, every man who’d ever made you doubt your value. “I want you, doll. Always. You don’t have to fight for anything with me,” he took the mug from your hands and placed it on the coffee table before turning you around and taking your face in his hands. “And, yeah, the sex is great. But I’m just happy to be near you. To spend time with you. This-” he said, sweeping his thumbs over your cheeks, “this is all I want. To be close to you. To take care of you.”

You let your eyes fall closed for a moment as the words sunk in. You took his hands in yours and grounded yourself in his touch. After all this time, you finally got what you wanted. The reassurance, the validation. And you knew he was telling the truth. But the nagging in your chest forbade you from believing him. You had half a mind to grind your hips against his and attach your lips to his neck. But before you could act on your impulse, Bucky spoke.

“You’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t expect you to just stop out of nowhere. It’s a coping mechanism- a way of protecting yourself.”

It’s like he read your mind.

“But I want you to put yourself first, doll. Okay? When you’re tired, when you have a headache, when you don’t feel like having sex- for whatever reason- it’s okay. It’s more than okay. I don’t ever want you doing something you don’t want to do. You have me, okay? I’m yours.” 

You shook your head- sure, that was easy for him to say now. “But you’re used to us having a lot of sex. You’re used to me being ready and willing twenty four-seven. What if you-”

“Baby… hey,” he once again cupped your face. It stopped your spiral, your anxious ramblings. Wild ‘what ifs’ invaded your brain and trampled everything Bucky said, every assurance he gave. But he was determined to make you understand. “My feelings for you are never going to dwindle or falter. Ever. I swear on my life that I’ll always want you. I’ll love you until I die- and even after that. We didn’t meet and immediately jump into bed together. We spent months just enjoying each other’s company. And even then, when I wasn’t even sure if anything was gonna happen between us, I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He sensed uncertainty in your eyes, “doll, if we never had sex again, I’d still be here. I’d still want you.”

Finally, after a night of doom and gloom, he got you to laugh. 

“Yeah, sure, Buck-”

“I’m serious!” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. “Obviously, I don’t think either one of us wants to forego sex completely…”

You gave him a vehement shake of your head. He laughed at your dramatics.

“But if, for whatever reason, we put a full embargo on sex- I’d still be here. I promise. Because I love you, and all that matters to me is your happiness. Okay?”

A knock at the door startled both of you. It pulled you out of the world of past-trauma and heartbreak and threw you into the present. Shit- you were hungry. Starving. And your head pounded from exhaustion and dehydration. 

“That’s the food!” Bucky lifted you from his lap before replacing you on the couch and running for the door. He paid the delivery driver and returned to you with a bag so full you feared the bottom might split. “I got everything: the pasta and garlic bread you like, a chicken parmesan, a lasagna, and two slices of their dark chocolate cake.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a growling stomach. “We feeding an army?”

“Well, no. But I know you probably haven’t eaten since breakfast…”

You nodded, and Bucky threw his head back with a groan. “Doll! You promised me you’d make sure to break during the day for lunch, and- you know, that’s a conversation for another time. Let’s get you fed and into bed. Okay?”

You watched Bucky unpack the food and spread the dishes out across the coffee table. He got plates, silverware, and drinks before putting on your favorite episode of New Girl. He took care of you. He was the person your family always promised you’d find. The person your friends told you to wait for. The person you swore didn’t exist. But he was real, and he was yours. And he loved you more than you ever thought possible.

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Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @god-ofthunder @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi

[constantlywriting1]

If Only I Could. Steve Harrington x F! Reader.

Summary: You and Steve work next to each other and visit one another often. You love to banter with him but you don't know whether or not you could actually see yourself with him. That question will be answered sooner than you think.

Word Count: 2444

A/N: This is a pretty fluffy fic. There's some light smooching but it's pretty clean compared to some of my other stuff lol.

You waited at the cash register as a few patrons roamed around the record store. It had been a long and boring shift and you couldn’t wait to get home. That was until a worker from the video store next door made his way inside. Steve Harrington had been visiting you almost every day since you had begun working at the record store. He wasn’t very sneaky with his endeavors but it was charming. You had even begun to pop into the video store on your breaks and you couldn’t lie, it was fun. 

“Hey, you get any new cassette’s?” He shouted over to you. 

“I don’t know why don’t you look.” You teased. 

Steve couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face. “You know you could try being a little nicer to such a loyal customer.” He replied. 

“Oh, a loyal customer are you?” 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” He smiled while sifting through the cassettes. 

You checked out a couple of customers before Steve made his way to the register. “How’s it been so far?” 

“Eh, pretty dead so far, how about you guys?” you questioned. 

“Yeah, it’s not even my break right now so I made time to come see my favorite neighbor.” He said, causing a small chuckle to escape your lips. 

“Okay smooth guy, why don’t you go try that on your Hawkins High girls.” You shot back. 

Steve put his hand to his heart and pretend you had physically injured him. “Wow, that actually hurt.” 

“Well, sometimes the truth does hurt.” You smirked. 

Though you and Steve did have a very back-and-forth relationship you were worried you had taken it too far this time. He had been going on dates with almost every girl in Hawkins since Nancy broke up with him. Maybe it was too soon to joke about it but you couldn’t help it. 

“Hey, I’m just trying to find Mrs. Right, don’t be jealous.” he attempted to defend himself. 

“Jealous? That’s probably the funniest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” You replied. 

“Oh come on admit it, you wish you were on my hit list.” 

Both of you froze and looked at each other. Steve realized what he said and you tried hard not to laugh before calling him out on his phrasing. 

“Your hit list Harrington? What the actual fuck.” You laughed. 

“I didn’t mean to say it like that, you know what I meant.” 

“No. you know I don’t think I do. Why don’t you just explain.” You continued, leaning on the counter and staring up at him with a big smile on your face. 

He stood quiet for a moment and tried to think of anything he could say to justify his terminology. “Yeah there’s no way I can fix this can I?” he smirked. 

“Nope, I don’t think there is.” You replied. 

You looked down for a moment, trying to come up with something to do besides stare directly into Steve’s eyes. When you lifted your head Steve was smiling over at you. 

“What?” You questioned, unable to stop the smile that crept onto your lips. 

“Nothing, I just can’t believe you think my lines only work on girls still in high school.” He said, a little too seriously. 

“Oh my god Harrington, you are actually unbearable.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning away from him and toward the records behind you. To your surprise, Steve wasn’t giving up. He walked around the counter and stood across from you. 

“Come on, we should go out sometime, I’m serious.” He continued. 

You smiled and patiently waited for him to stop blubbering. “Listen, Steve, we’re better as friends. No offense but I don’t particularly want to be on your hit list.” 

He seemed genuinely upset for a moment before quickly switching his demeanor. “You thought about it.” He forced out a small chuckle. 

“Sure I did.” You smiled. 

“I probably should get back to work, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?” He said, motioning toward the door as he backed away from the register. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” You gave him a pitiful smile before returning to your job. 

The night continued on slowly after that. You couldn’t help but wonder if Steve was being as serious as he seemed. It’s not that you didn’t like him, or that you didn’t imagine what it would be like to share a bed with him, but you couldn’t let yourself get into it. You knew how many girls Steve had been on dates with. Robin had told you how he was hoping to find the one, and you were certain that girl was not going to be you. 

Suddenly you were dragged out of your thoughts by the main landline of the store ringing. You walked over to the phone and took it off the hook, immediately resighting the store's mandated pick-up line. 

“Hey honey, I won’t be able to pick you up from work today, They put me on an extra shift so you’ll have to find another ride home.” Your mother said on the other line. 

“Okay, I’ll probably just walk.” You replied, picking at your nails as she continued to speak. 

“You shouldn’t walk, it’s not safe at night.” She suggested. 

“I’ll be fine.” You tried to convince her, but she was not having it. 

“No, get a ride home.” she insisted. 

You sighed and agreed before hanging up the phone. Though she wouldn’t know whether or not you actually walked home you knew she only had your best interest at heart and that she was definitely right about it not being safe at night. 

You walked out of the record store and locked the front door for closing. The video store was still open and looking through the window you could see Steve and Robin at the register. 

“Hey guys,” you said as you opened the door, trying hard not to be awkward. 

Steve looked up at you as if he were trying to figure out the words he wanted to say. Robin immediately perked up, moving in front of him to block the awkward eye contact. “Hey, what’s up?” She questioned. 

“Nothing much I just closed up next door and my mom can’t pick me up so I need a ride.” You replied. 

Robin froze, knowing that the question was for Steve. She moved over allowing you to see that he had not stopped looking in your direction. 

Steve looked back and forth between you and Robin. “I need to bring Robin home-” He began but he was unable to finish as Robin but in. 

“But I’m sure you can make two stops.” She added. 

You continued to look at Steve who was still seeming extremely awkward. “Is that okay with you?” 

“I mean, yeah that’s totally fine.” He replied with a strange smile. 

When the video store finally closed you walked out and into the parking lot, allowing Robin to sit in the passenger seat beside Steve. You listened to them bicker and couldn’t help but laugh along as Robin kept making fun of your mutual friend. 

Eventually, she was dropped off and you took her place in the front seat. 

“You too are cute.” You teased. 

“Nah, me and Robin are just friends.” He replied earnestly. 

“Oh, so you are capable of having female friends.”

“Come on, am I really that bad?” He sighed. 

“I’m just kidding Steve, just take a left up here.” You continued to give him directions until finally, you made it to your house. 

You could tell that Steve was looking at the driveway, noticing that you were home alone. “What are you doing for the rest of the night?” You questioned.

“Probably going home.” He answered smugly. 

“Do you want to come inside, I have some leftovers from the other night we could eat.” You suggested. 

Steve thought about your offer for a moment. He wanted to respect that you just wanted to be his friend but you were the one who was inviting him inside. After some careful calculation, he shrugged his shoulders and turned off his car. “Yeah, sure.”

You got out of his car a lead the way into your house. As you unlocked the door and walked inside you realized that Steve had never been into your house. As he closed your front door he looked around your house and tried hard not to seem too interested in the place you lived. 

“I have some spaghetti if you want.” You shouted from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He replied. You took the bowl from the refrigerator and put it inside the microwave. You watched as Steve made his way over. 

“So do you just live with your mom?” He asked, genuinely curious about your life. 

You took a seat on the kitchen table, taking in a deep breath. “Do you really care?” 

Steve rolled his eyes, clearly not finding your comment amusing this time. “You really think that low of me?” He sighed. 

You smiled, not allowing his frown to get to you. “No, I don’t. It’s just hard to think of you actually wanting to know anything about a girl.” 

“I was in a relationship for a while. You do know that right?” He said, moving so that he was leaning on the table next to you. 

“Yeah I know that, but I know you too.” You smiled down at him. 

“How. How do you know me because I visit you at work sometimes?” He was getting defensive again, but you kept calm. 

“I’ve heard some things.” You chuckled.

“You listen to everything we hear?” He smirked moving a little bit closer to you so that his elbow was touching your thigh. 

You looked down at his arm then back up at his eyes. His hair was swooped loosely over his face and you wanted so badly to brush it out of the way. You wanted to do so much with Steve, but before you could move the microwave beeped, pulling you back into reality. 

You hopped off of the table and grabbed the bowl, giving it to Steve and walking up the stairs to your bedroom. He followed close behind you, eating his spaghetti as he walked. 

When you got into your room Steve seemed mesmerized. Looking around he noticed the large music and movie posters that completely covered your walls. Then he looked over to your bed which has been almost the exact same since you were a child, which was easily evident by the teddy bear perfectly placed between your pillows. 

“Oh god, is this yours?” He laughed, placing the bowl of spaghetti on your vanity and hopping onto your bed. You watched as he grabbed your teddy bear and shook it around. 

“Ugh, yes it’s mine.” You said, quickly going over to the opposite side of your bed and snatching the bear out of his hands. 

“It’s cute.” He teased. 

You sat down on your bed and watched as Steve leaned onto your pillow and stared up at you with child-like glee. “Haha, very funny.” You said sarcastically, pushing his shoulder lightly. 

“No I’m serious, it’s cute,” he repeated, this time with no sort of sarcasm in his voice. 

The two of you looked at each other for a while, comfortable in your silence. Once you felt as though you were falling too deeply into his gaze you force yourself to look away. “You're the worst.” You scoffed playfully. 

When you looked back at Steve he was still staring up at you. 

“Why don’t you like me.” He genuinely asked. 

You weren’t able to ignore him this time. He was being serious and there was no other way to interpret it. You straightened yourself out and held your teddy bear a little closer. 

“I do like you.” You replied sheepishly. “It’s just, you go on a lot of dates with a lot of different girls, and who’s to say you won’t just blow right past me and move on to the next.” 

From looking at his face you could tell you had made a point he wasn’t able to completely deny. “I know that’s kinda weird but your different and I’m not just saying that. I talk to you almost every day, I’ve never done that with any of those girls.” He tried to convince you. 

You smiled sadly at him, knowing he was being honest. 

“I don’t just wanna be your friend. I really like you.” He continued. 

You sucked your teeth. It was hard not to believe him. You looked away for a moment, thinking over your options. Turning back toward him you realized Steve had sat up and was now inches from your face. You watched as he looked down at your lips and back into your eyes, giving you a moment to deny what you both knew he was about to do but you didn’t move. 

You let Steve’s lips touch yours and slowly closed your eyes as you placed a hand on his shoulder. He started softly, letting your top lip sit peacefully between both of his. When he realized you weren’t going to stop him he began to move. Inching closer to you as your lips moved together in unison. 

Eventually, he attempted to slip his tongue into your mouth which finally made you realize what you were doing. You pulled away from him and quickly he began to apologize. 

“I’m sorry, you said you just wanted to be friends, that was really stupid of me.” He frowned. 

“No, no, no, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked you to come in. I don’t know what I was expecting.” You replied, pacing around the opposite side of your room. 

You both walked around frantically before Steve spoke again. “Do you want me to leave?” He asked. 

You looked up at him while biting your thumbnail. There were two opposing notions running through your brain. You wanted so badly for him to stay but every part of your brain was screaming to let him walk out the door. But you couldn’t. 

You couldn’t help the grin that crept onto your lips. “No.” you finally answered. 

Steve smiled back at you as you both began to walk toward your bed. Meeting in the middle, both on your knees you began to kiss again. This time more patiently as Steve let his hands go down to your waist. 

As he took your shirt off and you did the same to him, you felt no regrets about your decision. Maybe Steve wasn’t the guy you thought he was.

[miscelunaaa]

whispers in the dark | jhs

pairing: sleep paralysis demon hoseok x gender neutral reader (platonic)

genre: … fluff?? Angst. Post-break up au. Supernatural au.

summary: Hoseok just doesn’t have it in him to make you even more miserable right now, so he tries something a little different.

rating: 18+ because I do what I want

word count: 1.4k

warnings: Swearing. Sleep paralysis. Creepy sleep paralysis demon Hoseok a la the “More” concept photos. Watching people while they’re sleep but not in an erotic way lol. Referenced Jimin x reader; technically a post break-up situation. Some image self-consciousness from Hoseok. Platonic spooning. Lots of talk about feeling or sensing smells and emotions. I know it seems creepy but really this is very soft, I promise.

notes: Ah wow, this is short but there’s so much in here. It started in a group chat with “idk what to do with more hoseok in the best way” and then it turned into me and @bangtanintotheroom​ taking “this hobi is our sleep paralysis demon” and running with it in two wildly different directions sldkjfhaslkdj. I know I’m supposed to be on break but like after finishing stuff last month, I had this whole “will I ever write again” crisis. Without @thatlongspringnight​ and @xjoonchildx​ this wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t feel ten million times better now than I did leading up to my meltdown. So, thank you. It means the world to me. I’m just going to yeet this into the void and get out but I miss yall!! Hope you’re having a nice July, wherever you may be :)

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

Hoseok hasn’t gotten the chance to stretch like this in ages. As he steps across the lush carpet, he lets his muscles lengthen and move. It’s dusty and cramped in his little crawlspace, even with his cleaning regime. When was the last time you let him out his literal hellhole? 

He looks at your sleeping form. You’re passed out, that’s for sure, huddled beneath layers of sheets and blankets. The dawn is beginning to trickle through your curtains, your eyelids freely fluttering in deep sleep, unencumbered by the sleep mask that’s somehow slipped off during the night. 

He can feel how frozen you are, how you want to turn over to a more comfortable position but can’t. Ah, it’s been so long since he could feed freely like this. What a wonderful welcome you’ve decided to give him.

Hoseok straightens and adjusts his cap as he glances around the room. It doesn’t seem that much has changed since he was last here. There’s a calendar propped up on your dresser, and he’s surprised to see that it’s been at least a year since he was last freed from the confines of your mind. He’d stopped visiting you shortly after you started keeping that punk around … what was his name? Jim? Tim?? Something like that. It’s not easy haunting folks who co-sleep with others. Finally he’s gone, and Hoseok can resume doing what he does best. Finally he can just lurk and get the energy he needs after his long sequestering. 

Stepping closer, Hoseok leans down to leer at your face. You can’t see him, not really, not in a way that matters. But you can feel him, and he can hear your breath quicken as he draws near. His veins sigh in content as the anxiety leeches from your body into his own. It feels sweet and soft against his senses. You always did taste better than his previous charges. 

If you’d kept him inside much longer, he was going to have to find someone else to feed from. So thank god Timbourine or whatever isn’t here today. He reaches out and brushes the sheets from your face so that he can see more than just your eyes.

Huh. That’s odd. 

Your cheeks are grimy. 

Hoseok, dead inside as he might be, feels his black hole of a heart fall. Fuck. 

Had you cried yourself to sleep?

Hoseok stands and steps away, casting his eyes about the room. It still smells like Jimothy or whatever, just barely. You might smell sweet on your own, but there’s a musty spice that undergirds everything. It doesn’t smell like you, and it’s like it’s faded. You probably don’t even smell it anymore, but that doesn’t mean you don’t somehow feel it.

There’s a box in the corner that smells stronger than the rest of your room. It’s got clothes in it that don’t look like you’d be caught dead wearing them. And there’s a picture frame laying flat on its face right next to your calendar. He feels like an idiot for not noticing it sooner. 

“Aw, darling, did that dickwad break your heart?” he murmurs. His heart goes out to you. He doesn’t really much do desire himself but he imagines that the emotions are torrid and stressful. “That’s so unfair, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t seem right to feed off you now, for some reason. The succulent taste of stress he’d been taking from you now feels bitter. It tastes off, spoiled even. Was he really gone so long that he developed a conscience? This is garbage. This is not a part of the plan at all.  

Hoseok sighs as he sits next to your sleeping form. You don’t move. 

“What am I going to do with you, darling? You kept me tucked away for so long and now I can’t even take what I need.” 

You don’t reply, of course. You can’t. You’re frozen in place, paralyzed and dead to the world. Awake and yet not, all at once. Hoseok has craved being able to take what he wants from you for ages, but now it just feels unfair. 

The demon sighs again, noticing now all the things he’d not noticed before in his eagerness to feed. You’ve got pillows tucked behind you, as if to simulate a person at your back. One of them is even wrapped in a shirt. Ah, how sad. There’s other mementos about the room too: a sock in the corner, discarded undergarments next to the laundry hamper, all sorts of small things that have that unfamiliar scent wreathed around them. Even when he doesn’t think there’s more, there’s always more. He can’t imagine how you must feel, having all this crap around that belongs to someone no longer in your life. The agony of finding still more at every turn must be torture. 

He finds himself pitying you. It’s strange. He knows it is. He’s a demon, a thought form, a parasite even; nothing more or less. He shouldn’t have any feelings not placed within him that didn’t come from his host. 

Is that what this is, then? Is this you looking for comfort?

Hoseok’s not sure how he feels about this. He’s never heard of someone manifesting comfort from their sleep paralysis demon. You’re one of hundreds of people he’s haunted. This shouldn’t be anything new even though it clearly is. 

Maybe he’s just getting soft. Maybe being stuck in your mind made him soft. 

He should have gotten out sooner. 

Suddenly, you whimper. Hoseok about jumps out of his skin. He scrambles away from the bed, his eyes flying to see if you’ve somehow managed to rouse yourself without him noticing. 

No, the paralysis holds, but only just. Your eyelids flutter, your fingertips twitch. Still, you don’t move. The emotions wafting off you shift from fear to yearning. His stomach churns and his head spins as the sensation registers. It’s even stronger than the anxiety. It’s just pure, unadulterated loneliness. 

Hoseok takes a deep breath. 

Damn it, you’re soft. And he’s soft for you. 

He takes his cap off and runs his hand over his face, and then through his hair. He’s not much to cuddle with. As far as demons like him go, he’s kind of scrawny. To make himself look scary he has to lean on makeup and piercings and clothing. There’s only so much a glamour can do to make him look intimidating. And none of it’s easy to shed so … maybe if he just spoons you from behind you won’t notice how wimpy he actually looks? 

Your breathing has picked up again, and you whine into the cool air of the bedroom. How are you doing that? Hoseok puts the question out of his mind as he toes off his shoes. 

“Okay, fine, I’ll give you want, but just this once. Just because I missed you or whatever.” 

He rounds the bed and carefully crawls on top of the sheets on the side opposite you. He tosses the pillows away, even the one wrapped in Jimbert or whatever’s shirt, so that he can come up behind you. He fits his body behind yours, the warmth of your body seeping like a warm tide into his clothes and his flesh. 

He trembles. It’s been a while since he was this close with anyone. He’s a big spoon anyway, this is fine, but fuck, it’s kind of weird too. 

After a few moments, he reaches around your middle and pulls you closer. Might as well really lean into this shit if he’s going to do it in the first place. Thank whatever that this is a solitary job. He’d never hear the end of it if one of his colleagues saw him comforting his hauntee like this. 

For a moment, Hoseok wonders if this is doing anything for you at all. After a few minutes, however, your breathing slows, and you move of your own accord. 

You nestle. 

You nestle back into Hoseok’s chest. As if this shit is natural. As if it’s exactly what you needed. Your hand finds his, and squeezes it. 

His heart drops. 

This is more than he anticipated. And he’s horrified to realize that he kind of likes it. 

The fear is gone from you, and so is the longing; the loneliness that was clouding your heart has been burned away like mist by the sun. Hoseok breathes in the scent of your skin at the nape of your neck. Sweet. Content. Strong. 

Hoseok bites his lip. 

Just a few more minutes like this. And then maybe he’ll leave. Can’t let himself get used to this. And you can’t get used to it either. He’ll let you have this moment together. Tomorrow morning he’ll get back to doing his actual job. 

For now, he’ll let himself enjoy this with you for as long as he can muster. 

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work.Thank you.

posted: 7.4.2022

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA: 

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

OH

MY

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || WASN’T SO BAD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, swearing and mention of death, sort of spoils parts of the manga up to chapter 30 (so beware)

| form : imagine

| word count : 1553

| published : 20 november

| request : Hiiii again!! 😚 I hope your doing well :3 may I please request another sukuna/itadori x fem reader imagine where mc is dating yuuji and after getting acquainted with sukuna - they ended up bonding too?? Sukuna kinda develops a protective instinct over her and whenever he switches with yuuji - he keeps a protective hold on the back of her neck?? I see guys doing that and I want sukuna to do the same to me lol (*≧∀≦*) thank you!!

| barista’s notes : let me admit this, i’m not confident that i answered this request properly at all, and lowkey ashamed by that ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ also i’m not really confident with the battle scene i did here but when am i every confident...hahaha ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black cofee (jujutsu kaisen request) and please come again and order when i reopen the cafe!

“Damn, I’m really screwed now,” you muttered to yourself once you saw your whole new surroundings. Pure darkness enveloped you as multiple figures on what seemed to be arms surrounding you like a cage were present within your view as your enemy unleashed their domain expansion on you.

At this current moment in time, you were fighting an unregistered special grade curse that had managed to get inside a school called Satozakuro High. From what you gathered from your boyfriend Yuji and Nanami, this whole situation had started since the investigation of the murders back in Kinema Cinema,  where the sole witness - Junpei Yoshino, a classmate of the three murder victims  - managed to somehow converse with the same special grade curse that you were facing right now.

“Let me admit, the name of your domain expansion is sort of narcissistic, humble yourself would you?” you sarcastically asked, trying to figure out a way to get around this situation as you knew your soul was dangerously the line - there was no way you let something so disgusting try to transfigure it.

“For someone that’s going to die, you seem calm,” the curse stated to which before this happened, you learnt that it was named Mahito.

You had to keep calm. Ever since you became a jujutsu sorcerer, you hated when enemies would comment on your fears during battle, you hated when they would mock you for being fearful for even a second, you hated when they told you that they could hear your heart pounding in anticipation. You just purely hated that.

“Well, what do you want me to be? Fearful?” you then asked, tilting your head to the side as you rested your katana over your shoulders - only to let the tip touch the wall of the domain leaving you to realise that the wall was quite thin.

‘Maybe there is a way I can get out of this? Is my domain expansion more polished enough to overcome this one?’ you thought to yourself, before wondering about what could be happening on the outside of the same wall right now. 

                                          ꕥ

Outside the domain, Itadori was helplessly on the other side punching the wall with all of his might as he was worried about what was happening to his girlfriend on the inside.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Itadori screamed as he continued to punch the wall with his cursed energy-infused fists, desperately trying to gain some damage to the wall to no avail.

‘Why was Y/N the only one imprisoned?’ he asked himself as if he was going to get an answer back - that was if Sukuna was willing to answer his question. However, the King of Curses didn’t have a single answer himself. To say he was worried about you was an underplaying statement yet so out of character for him.

Ever since the Sukuna was introduced to you by his vessel himself, he couldn’t help but become intrigued with you like he was with Fushiguro. He wanted to know more, more and more. From all his knowledge about past sorcerers and clans, you were an exception to his vast understanding of the jujutsu world. An exception that he wanted to protect. 

You weren’t from a clan or related to one in the slightest, yet you had the capability to have inherited a technique that any powerful family would desire to have for themselves or for their offspring. You were a master weapons specialist - just like 2nd year Maki Zenin - only the major difference between both of you was the fact that you could manifest and construct those cursed weapons from only using your curse energy. 

This fact surprised Sukuna himself when he was fighting you and Fushiguro back at the Eishu Juvenile Detention Centre. Vividly he remembers holding you up by the throat against a wall, only for you suddenly swiftly swing your arm with a small but sharp military knife in hand surprising him completely on how you were able to gain another weapon without him knowing, only to find out seconds later that you had constructed the weapon with nothing but your curse energy once he moved out the way, escaping with a just small graze on his cheek.

“So you’re able to create cursed weapons ha?” Sukuna asked as he placed his hand on his chin like he was thinking before staring at the blade that was in your hand. Continuing to stare that the weapon, the King of curses slowly began to realise that the weapon you had created was classed as a special grade tool, causing him to wonder what power you possessed to even have the ability to create something so small yet so powerful.

“How in the world did you do that?” Sukuna muttered to himself, before quickly dodging your attack as you tried to assault him with another blade that you quickly manifested in your other hand, surprising the special grade curse even more on how quickly you were able to create more weapons even after just constructing the miniature knife seconds before.

“Sorry Sukuna, but I don’t like talking during battle and I also need to get my boyfriend back real quick,” you commented before you used your cursed energy to cause your military knife to disappear, only to quickly construct your classic black katana to try to close the distance between the both of you only to fail once again.

‘I can see why the brat likes you Y/N, I’m also liking where this is going’

                                        ꕥ

Still looking at your surroundings, you were worried about the amount of time you had left until you were finished. The mental confrontation that was going on in your head was straining as you weren’t sure if your only plan was the best for the situation that you were in. There was a high chance that it could fail but the small percent of success was what was bother you to the max

‘It’s my only way to get out of this situation right now, if it doesn’t work then at least I tried’ you thought, before stabbing your black katana on the ground in front of you to which then you slowly started to pour your curse energy into the blade

“Ha? What are you planning to do? You’re already dead, so might as well accept your fate,” Mahito playful teased you, as he tried to break your stern composure.

“Domain Expansi-”

However, before you could even complete your words, you unexpectedly heard a sound of a loud crack emitting behind you causing you to completely snap out of your concentration leading to the blue aura around your sword to slowly disappear. 

Before you could even turn a single inch of your head around, you suddenly felt something brush your hair aside before a warm compress was placed on the back of your neck leading you to let out a shaky breath out of fear until you felt a sense of safety enclosing around you. The feeling of his nails gently grazing your skin caused you to shiver before he lightly squeezed your neck in reassurance, trying to convey to you that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I had it under control, Sukuna,” you muttered quietly before he tenderly pulled you back and had you turned around to face over his shoulder leading you to see the large crack that was created behind you that allowed Sukuna to enter into the domain. 

“I know, I just didn’t want to see you hurt,” Sukuna replied to which then your suddenly heard what seemed to be something being slashed, prompting you the want to turn over only for Sukuna to tighten his hold on your neck - but not to the point where you were in pain but rather him not wanting you to see what he had done.

As if he was trying to calm you down, you felt his thumb beginning to slide up and down, sometimes brushing against the bottom of your scalp leaving you to slowly begin to melt in his hold. “There was no way I was going to allow something like him to touch you,” the King of Curses said to you, leading you to feel nothing but a sense of security as you started to let your guard down causing you to lay your head on his shoulder.

Gripping onto his - well Itadori’s - school jacket, you took a deep breath in before letting a deep breath out as you calmed down your heart, not realising your heart was pounding in fear until now. You hated the fact that he could now feel the fear radiating from your body. You hated how he now knew how fearful you were for your life. You hated how it knew all of it.

“It’s okay,” Sukuna calmly stated, causing you to lift your head to face him only to see him stare at you back intensely with his glowing beautiful red eyes. “Nothing is going to hurt you, not in my sight,” he proudly said to you as if he was making a promise to you before giving your neck one last little squeeze to tell you that you were safe in his embrace.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to let him know.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to fear.

[comfortwriting]

Through Thick and Thin - A.S

Anakin Skywalker x Fem Reader

masterlist, requesting rules, guidelines, taglist

About: When Obi-Wan learns of Anakin's turn to the dark side, he goes to Y/N to try and find him; what he gets instead changes everything and Anakin gets the answers he's been waiting for.

A/N: this is my first time writing in months, please be kind! Need to get back to my flow lol

Word Count: 2057

Warnings: murder, death, blood, mention of parent loss.

"He killed younglings, Y/N!" Obi-Wan stressed, pacing around the room "Tell me where he is, I beg you."

You stared at your husbands Jedi Master, contemplating if you should tell him the truth - betraying your husband and revealing his whereabouts or to lie and protect him. After all, you knew what Obi-Wan was going to do.

You knew that Anakin was capable of taking lives, especially the lives of women and children after he murdered the Tusken Raiders - you weren't afraid of him when he confessed and you certainly didn't shame him for it; you could understand his anger, his hate, his need for revenge.

Anakin's back was facing you, he stared at the wall, hot tears streaming down his face.

"I killed them." he paused, catching his breath "I killed them all. They're dead, every single one of them."

Anakin slowly turned around to face you, his face stained with tears, his eyes glassy and red.

You stared at him, trying not to judge him for what he had done - knowing that if you did, you would be the biggest hypocrite known to man.

"And not just the men," Anakin inched closer to you, shaking his head "but the women and the children too."

You froze.

Women, like you.

Children, like the ones you adored at the Jedi Temple, children you dreamed of having with Anakin.

Part of you died hearing his confession, but you remembered how you felt when you were finally left alone in a room with your fathers killer. You too would've killed his wife and the other women and children in their village. You would wipe them all out.

"They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals." Anakin started to raise his voice, his pearly white teeth shining in the light "I hate them!"

Anakin dumped himself to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest, more tears falling from his eyes; you placed your hand against his face, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

"It's okay to feel angry, it's okay to hate them after what they did." You said softly, casting circles on his cheek with your thumb.

"I'm a Jedi," his eyes searched yours, his hand reaching for yours, holding it tightly "I know I'm better than this."

You sighed, kissing his hand softly "Don't let what you've done define you, Ani."

"How can I come back from this?" He asked in frustration "How can I move forward if Obi-Wan is holding me back!"

"You find a way," you encouraged him "even if it means going against him... and the council."

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" You asked quietly.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, he swallowed hard and looked at the pale lilac carpet.

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to be the death of me?"

"Don't say that Master... You're the closest thing I have to a father... I love you. I don't want to cause you pain."

"He has slain younglings, Y/N! I saw his callousness with my own eyes!" Obi-Wan raised his voice, "Anakin has sided with Palpatine! He's the sith lord!"

You started to laugh, waving your hand.

'Of course, Obi-Wan and the council are pinning this on Palpatine, making him the bad guy.' you thought.

"It's funny," you speak up swinging your right leg over your left knee "you and the council painting Palpatine as evil."

The Jedi Master stared at you in horror and couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth - his heart splitting into tiny fragments, the young girl he raised was defending the chosen one - the young boy who had grown up with bouts of pent up hate and anger, and turned to the dark side.

"Palpatine is the only person other than me who truly cares for Anakin, who never lectures him for his feelings, who never holds him back."

Obi-Wan felt sick.

"I don't know where he is," you lied "even if I did, I'm not telling you."

"Don't make this harder for me than it needs to be," Obi-Wan warned you, remembering the Jedi Code, pushing his memories with you and Anakin aside.

You didn't flinch, instead, you sat back down on the sofa, staring at the beautiful sparkling wedding ring on your finger.

"I don't want to go back," you sighed, dragging your feet through inches of deep, sparkling snow "I've missed being home."

Anakin nervously fidgeted with the ring box in his pocket, practising his words over and over and over, making sure he got them perfect, his body freezing, his hair full of snowflakes.

"I'm so thankful you came here with me, Ani." You smiled, "My dad would've loved you."

Realising that Anakin wasn't following you, you stopped in your tracks and turned around, finding your boyfriend down on one knee.

"Ani-"

"From the day we met, I have never been able to shake you from my mind and heart."  

Your eyes filled with tears and your goggles started to steam up.

"I never got to ask for your father's blessing, but that won't stop me."

You focused on the ring, realising it was the same one that your father always showed you as a child, with his plan to give to you in hopes that you would pass it on to your children.

"Y/N, my love, will you marry me?"

You nodded your head, removing your glove, exposing your warm skin to the freezing air that instantly started to nip at your skin.

"Yes," you smiled, more tears falling from your eyes "I will marry you, Anakin."

"Your father would be ashamed of you, you're becoming the very thing he hated, you're sleeping with the enemy!"

The rage you once felt started to ignite deep inside you as Obi-Wan tried to sour one of the greatest moments of your life.

You stood up, and walked over to him, staring him down.

"You know better than to bring up my father, Obi-Wan."

Anakin tried to catch his breath, stumbling backwards in extreme pain, the sound of your screams ringing in his ears. You were hurt, probably dead with the amount of pain Anakin was experiencing.

His heart started pounding, his ears ringing, feeling sick to his stomach - you couldn't be... could you? who could've done this? why?

"I have these nightmares..." Anakin opened up to you "what I see, happens."

You stroked Anakin's head, your fingertips massaging his scalp, your lips brushing against his neck.

"I had them about my mother before she died, I wasn't strong enough to save her."

You stopped massaging his scalp, and pulled away, looking into his blue eyes - full of tears that pooled up over his waterline.

"You are strong and you get even stronger the more you learn and experience," you paused "I was strong - not strong enough to save my dad, but now I probably would've had a better chance of doing so. We move forward."

Your fiance nodded his head, pursing his lips and kissing you softly, still emotional when he pulled away from the kiss.

"I don't want to dream of you like that- I don't want the nightmares - I can't... I can't lose you..."

You shook your head, cupping Anakin's face in your hands "You won't lose me, Ani."

Anakin didn't know but he would soon find out, killing the last of the separatist leaders on Mustafar, he boarded his ETA-2 Jedi Starfighter and set off in a hurry; desperate to find you.

You were in utter shock.

Your hands trembling, your forehead burning, the room closing in on you yet expanding at the same time and your throat like sandpaper from your constant screaming.

It all happened so fast - Obi-Wan striking for you, your leg being severed off faster than you could realise until you fell down and all you could feel was agonising pain, and the smell of burning flesh filling the room, the blood boiling in your veins.

You sat on the floor, your back propped up against the back of the sofa, dragging yourself across the floor proved difficult since you stopped practising your upper body workouts.

Looking across the room, your eyes landed on Obi-Wan, no longer breathing - how you did it? you didn't know - you managed to take control, more power than you ever had in your life, your fury spitting inside of you begging for release.

Do you feel guilty? Now that you think about it, no.

Obi-Wan attempted to end your life and he would take Anakin's life too.

Bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead, you wiped away the beads of sweat, your chest rising and falling.

Anakin jumped out of his Starfighter, his hood shielding his face, his long strides bringing him closer and closer to you, his eyes no longer a beautiful shade of blue, but like the two suns on Tatooine during sunset.

She can't be. Y/N can't be dead. Not now. Not ever.

Getting closer and closer, Anakin could sense death, pain, and suffering.

The door swung open as Anakin stormed in, searching for you frantically until his eyes landed on your amputated leg in the middle of the room, his face drained of all its colour.

Your screams came back to him, the searing sound of Obi-Wan's lightsaber severing your leg, the loud thud as you fell to the floor and then the walls shaking, everything shaking, your yells, Obi-Wan's voice breaking before his body dropped lifelessly to the floor.

Anakin glanced over to his Jedi Masters lifeless body and stared, his eyes burning holes into Obi-Wans back, wanting nothing more than to revive him just so he could have the pleasure of murdering him for what he had done to you.

You peeked your head out from behind the sofa, "Ani," you winced, "I'm back here."

Anakin rushed to your side, his eyes pouring with tears as he searched your face and body for more injuries; the sight of your wound hurt him deeply.

How could Obi-Wan do this to you? How could anyone do such a thing to the chosen one's wife?

"Are you-are you-"

"Ani," you tried to calm him down breathlessly "just my leg, nothing-nothing else."

Anakin scooped you into his arms as gently as he could, you held onto him for support, moving one of your arms around his neck, your tear-stained face hiding in his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your ear comforting you.

"I thought you were dead," Anakin croaked, carrying you away, his robes hiding you in his arms.

"Obi-Wan came to me, he needed to know where you were so he could kill you," you admitted, "he told me that you killed younglings."

Anakin slowed down, you pulled your head out of his chest and looked into his eyes.

"Did you believe him?" Anakin asked, his tone harsh.

You paused for a moment, slightly afraid that Anakin might drop you.

"I know that you have killed children before," you replied quietly, "he told me that Palpatine is the sith lord... that you are his apprentice-"

"What do you think of Palpatine?" Anakin's eyes rummaged through yours.

She can't turn against me - she won't. I won't let her.

"I think that he's the only other person aside from me who has ever encouraged you to show your emotions, to use them to make you stronger."

Anakin's eyes fixed on your face like glue "what if he is the sith lord, and I have joined him? what would you think of me"

You sighed, closing your eyes, imagining the perfect life with your husband; you and him never in harms way, children of your own growing up without a clue of what it's like to lose a parent, to be a slave.

"I would encourage you to overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy,"

You opened your eyes, everything coming back to you, your father's death, how it felt to slaughter a whole family.

"make things the way we want them to be."

Anakin gripped onto you tightly, a prideful grin spreading across his face.

"Everyone turned against me but you." He said softly, kissing you.

"What if you hate what I become?" your boyfriend stressed, pacing up and down.

"I could never hate you, Anakin," you walked over to him, linking your arm with his metal one"I'll be with you through thick and thin."

tags: @autobotrosestark

[xxsp3llb0undxx]

Writing Prompts

Prompts list for all genres, they are numbered so if requesting a specific story for a prompt please give the genre and what number, thank you :)

Fluff Prompts -

"Because even the sun can envy the stars"

"I fell in love with the twinkle of his laugh and the gleam in his eye."

"I believe that the stars are the spirits of the dead."

"Who are you supposed to be dressed as?", "you, but better", "Yea…. I don't think it's possible to exceed this perfection."

"We grew up in different times, I'm not like those people you met before."

"It's funny you know…I never saw myself being married at 19, especially to a ghost."

“I made a playlist for you, come sit and listen."

“It’s us against the world.”

“This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me.” 

Angst Prompts -

"I called for you but then I remembered you weren't here with me anymore."

"That's a heavy question."

"Maybe, just maybe. If I did something differently, then none of this would've happened."

"I don't want to live without you. I can't."

"How is leaving so easy for you?"

"Why does it hurt so much?", "Because it was real."

"It wasn't my age that ruined us, it was you."

"And I thought I was supposed to be the cold one."

"So, tell me when you hear my heart stop, you're the only one that knows."

"Your scars…they're just like mine."

"All I'm asking is you choose me for once, not her"

"I'm not like you, I don't have a family to turn to when I need them."

“You were the one who walked out, not me.”

“You have to let me go.”

“Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.”

“Do you think I enjoy this?”, “Honestly, yes. You’re a bad person.”

“How many times are they going to let you down before you just walk away?”

Fluff Angst Prompts -

"No, you do not get to touch me after you just spent the night with her."

"Why am I always the second best?"

"The thing is, I can't pretend we never happened because I'm still in love with you."

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever met", "You don't need to lie to me."

"I don't need you protecting me all the time, I'm not some porcelain doll about to break."

"What storm is going on inside that pretty little head of yours?"

"Well, that's what I get for letting my heart win, right?"

“I wish we didn’t we have to say goodbye.”

Random Prompts -

"You know I'm gay, right?"

"What am I? SAY IT.", "Must be someone really into Fenty with that highlighter poppin."

“It’s taken me a hundred years to get to where I am now. I’m sure as hell not giving up!”

"I thought I was your true mate…?" (Specifically for twilight lol.)

"I swear to the holy ghost, if I catch you; you'll be deader than you already are."

“It’s all in my head. This isn’t actually happening, you’re not real!”

“Surprised to see me?”, “Hardly. You’re like a cockroach.”

“You do not need another book.”, “Yes, I do.”

“You’re turning my 'self-help' group into a cult!!”

“She’s smiling! Oh my god she’s finally smiling!”, “I don’t know…it looks suspicious.”

[gojology]

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

     You’re beginning to hate Satoru.        Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it.       People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders.       You don’t particularly hate him for this, though.       It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone.      It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back.      Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it.     So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month.    “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room.     Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones.     Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?”      “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.”     Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?”     Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-”     “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work?  Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is.     He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?”     He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-”     Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.”     Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?”     It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults.       “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?”       He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him.       “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.”       Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place.      “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket.      “Looks just like you.” he says.      You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching-      “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you.        “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?”        You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it..       “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh.       “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low.      “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.”      “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you?      “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.”       His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness?      “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.”      “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?”      Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.”     “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?”     Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself?    “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?”     “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped.     By none other than his lips.      They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this.      You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything.    ‧₊˚✩彡.       “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door.        Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse.        “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes.        “What the fuck.” 

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.