#I read a LOT and it’s been a long time since I have loved a novel quite this much

[kyeomofhearts]

Yunho x Chubby!Reader Headcanons <3

[☻] I’ve been thinking about Yuyu a lot �� so here we are! Made this in 30 minutes so please excuse any mistakes!

[nsfw content after the ‘keep reading’ header] mdni!!

☆ Yunho’s the type to always need some sort of physical touch when it comes to you. Like he’s mindlessly touching you (both sexual and non) whether that be by holding your hand or simply caressing your shoulder. Your physical presence just soothes him you know?

☆ Is not quiet about you at all, as he should. Right after your first date he almost changed his relationship status to ‘taken’ on all of his social media accounts. And now as a happy couple, he makes sure to let everyone know who his gf is and just how much he loves you! He even has a ‘I love my gf’ shirt with one of the very first selfies you sent him.

☆ Laying his head on your thighs is his favorite thing in the world. As soon as your fingers make their way to his scalp he’s gone. He just loves how warm and plush you are.

☆ Loves, absolutely loves, how soft and plump your skin is! Even if you get self-conscious about your stretch marks or cellulite, he will always make sure to show you how much he adores your body.

☆ Loves eating with you. Restaurants, takeout, or homemade… it doesn’t matter. There’s just something about seeing you eat happily that brings him so much joy.

☆ Okay, let’s face it… since Yunho is on the thinner side, he just can’t help but always gravitate towards you. Especially when it’s cold out, you bet he’s soaking up all of your warmth! You’re his personal heater and he will not be letting you go.

☆ Would absolutely not change a single thing about you whatsoever. Which he makes sure to remind you on those days where you feel a bit insecure about yourself. He thinks and knows that you are perfect just the way you are.

☆ Omg and the sex? Absolutely nasty.

☆ Almost loses all self control when he sees your body in its full glory. Absolutely touching everything and anything as soon as he is within arms reach.

☆ Body worship is through the roof.

☆ Yunho is a simple guy, he just can’t help himself when he sees your boobs and ass.

☆ Loves being rough because then that means he gets to see your body jiggling from how hard he’s fucking you. Also loves marking you up, seeing his hand imprinted on your ass just spurs him on even more.

☆ Is down to do any position with you so as long as he can still see your beautiful body.

☆ Surprisingly enough, he can pick you up and manhandle you like it’s nothing. (You were definitely shocked the first time he lifted you off the ground)

☆ Would be honored to die in-between your thighs. There’s no better way to go out than by eating out the love of his life. If he could, he would just stay in-between your thighs for the rest of his life (it doesn’t even have to be sexual!).

☆ Also loves when you ride his face. Despite your apprehension, he will almost always need to make you cum this way first before actually getting down and dirty.

☆ He cannot honestly get enough of how much there is to grab when it comes to you. There’s been a few times where he just wants to stay still and become one with you.

☆ Absolutely spoils you with lingerie! Even know he prefers you naked most of the time, lingerie on your body just does something to him. There’s nothing better than coming home after a long day to seeing you waiting for him in lingerie, it’s like a reward honestly.

☆ Yunho just loves you so much, he doesn’t know what he would do without you being in his life.

☆ Which is why he plans on proposing to you soon. He’s still trying to get the date down but the ring is already hidden away in his drawer. He hopes that you know how serious he is about you when you see the ring, it’s a Darry ring of course.

[luveline]

Hii, Jade 🤍 please bring back singledad!spencer, reader and Amanda 🥹 they r so special

—Spencer experiences your first Spencer-brought-upon baby fever, to his shock. fem, 2k 

(cw: reader is written as enthusiastically wanting kids) 

Spencer’s been reading to Amanda since the moment she could open her eyes. By two months she was cooing in delight whenever he spoke, and that included during story time. He didn’t mind that she didn’t understand, he just loved being with her. He still does. 

So when Amy interrupts your conversation to beg for him to read her something, he gives you an apologetic look, asking, “Do you mind?” 

“Of course I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t, you’re like an angel, leaning back on the couch with little urgency as Amy climbs into Spencer’s lap.

“Thank you. Sorry for interrupting,” Amy says. 

“Gosh, you’re so smart,” Spencer says, tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear. “Interrupting, that’s a big word.” 

“Go ahead,” you say, getting comfortable in front of one of Spencer’s woven cushions. “I’ll listen too, if that’s okay.” 

Spencer opens the storybook to the first page. Amy likes this one. The corners of the pages are soft with use. “Cerys’ Brave Day,” he begins, grinning as Avery pushes herself up his chest to look down at the illustrations. “Cerys wakes up without mommy. Cerys makes her own way out of bed. There is no mommy to wipe her face or brush her hair. My mommy, she thinks, is not there.” 

Amy smiles into Spencer’s cheek. He wraps an arm around her, as if to say, I know, angel, it’s exciting. “Her mommy must be having a slow day. She doesn’t appear to give Cerys any help. And Cerys says–”

“No way!” Amy finishes, pointing at the drawing of a bathroom sink and toothbrush. “I don’t want to brush my teeth by myself!” 

It goes on like that for some time. Spencer notices you getting closer as he goes on, your arm pressing to his side. 

Cerys finds that her mommy is having a slow day. Cerys’ mommy is just as loving as the other mom’s, but sometimes she takes longer to help Cerys brush her hair, and get dressed. Cerys has to be a brave, smart girl, and help her mommy with the small things. Spencer enjoys it, and thought it was a great expression of empathy for Amy to one day understand.

“Later, when mommy feels better, she says I’m sorry for being so slow. Mommy didn’t mean to forget her, she just struggles to get up and go. 

“Cerys doesn't want her to be sorry. She loves helping her mommy out. Because mommy loves Cerys, and Cerys loves mommy, and that’s never been in any doubt.” 

Amy turns her face to Spencer with a huge smile, somehow bigger than when it started. “I love that story,” she says. 

Spencer lets the storybook fall closed in her lap. “It’s a good one, huh?” 

“What do you think, Y/N?” Amy asks. 

You’re delighted by Amy in a way Spencer’s used to seeing in the mirror. “I loved it. Daddy’s a good storyteller, and you’re such a good assistant. You know lots of the big words.” 

She preens. “Thanks.” 

You can’t resist her, pushing against the top of her head with a nice palm. “You’re welcome.” 

“Can we have another one?” she asks. 

Spencer checks the time on his watch. Amy realised it was bedtime before he did, it seems. “Come on, lovely girl. Let’s start getting ready for bed, and you can have any story you want.” 

He’s obviously not expecting you to leave, but at the same time, things are new enough between you that when he asks if you want to sleepover, your grinning “Yes, please,” throws him for a loop. 

You have spare clothes and toiletries in the bedroom. You ask to take a quick shower and get all smiley and shy when he says you never have to ask. 

“So dad,” Amy says. 

“So Amy,” he says, pulling down the blankets on her bed. She has five layers because suddenly November is cold. He wonders if she needs a sixth. 

“I can’t sleep in the big bed tonight.” 

“Well, that depends on how badly you want to.”

“Really?” 

“You’ve known Y/N for a long time, right? She’s been my friend for a long time, before she was my partner. I think she’d be okay with having you sleep in the big bed again if you need to. It was your place before it was her place, and she knows that.” 

“Well…” 

He grabs her under the arms and places her in bed. She could use her stepping stool, but he likes picking her up and putting her down. It makes him feel super paternal. “Just think about it, angel. If you change your mind, you can just come and knock the door. 

“Promise?” 

“Honey.” He kisses her forehead twice, before pulling the blankets up over her, and turning on her mushroom night light. “How’s that? Okay, I promise you can still come knock my door. Cross my heart.” 

“Can you stay for a little?” she asks. 

Spencer sits on her bed by her legs. They feel weirdly small under his hand despite the padding he’s given her. “Babe, are you sure you’re warm enough? This does not feel like enough blankets.” 

“It’s loads. Give me a hug.” 

Spencer lays down in her bed, almost falls off, and covers her with his arm. Their curls tangle together on the pillowcase. 

“Like this?” he asks. 

“Exactly.” 

“Amy, you’re using such big words, you’re so smart.” He’s gonna take her for an assessment at some point. He doesn’t care if she’s super intelligent or not, but lately it’s like she’s so much older than she is. A few days ago she said the word discombobulated. “My smarty-pants.” 

“I like big words,” she says. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Remember what Amanda means?” he asks. 

Amy giggles as he shakes her by the tummy. “She who must be loved.” 

“Exactly. Loved by everyone, deserving of love. Always, from the second you were born!” He leans down to kiss her cheek, meeting her eyes as he pulls back. “Okay?” 

She certainly feels loved, he’d wager. He loves her so much it’s like an extra part of his soul in another person. “Story?” she asks. 

“Yes, I did say we’d have one, didn’t I?” He’d almost forgotten. Spencer grabs a couple of her soft backs from the book stand and lets her choose. 

After he’s read a few books and given her a couple of cuddles, Amy begins to list. She presses her nose to his shoulder and mumbles something he doesn’t hear. 

“What did you say, sweetpea?” he mumbles. 

“Just goo’night.” 

“Goodnight. I’ll tuck you in, okay?” 

“Spence?” 

He’d almost forgot you were here. You’re standing in the doorway, arms still damp, pyjama pants stuck to your calves. “Where’s the fire?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“In a rush?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to hear story time. Did I miss it?” 

Spencer kisses Amy again. “I think so. I’m just saying goodnight.” 

You lean against the door. “Goodnight, then, lovely girl.” 

Spencer forces himself up to tuck her in. “Goodnight,” he says again, stroking the hair from her eyes, though they’re closed already. She doesn’t manage to say goodnight back, just touches his arm before he goes. 

You take his hand when he’s close enough. He follows, pressing his face to your shoulder from behind. 

“I like watching you be a dad.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm, you’re good at it. It’s… I don’t know, I know Amy isn’t my baby, but I do love her, so it’s never not gonna be nice to watch you, and… I’m worried to say this.” 

“Just say it.” 

“Maybe one day, I…” You catch his eye and give him a panicked smile. 

You climb into bed together. He tries to get you to finish what you’d been saying but doesn’t succeed, no matter how nicely he draws that shape you love into your neck. It’s alright, though. It doesn’t matter. He nearly forgets you’ve brought it up at all until you’re lifting yourself up from your place on his chest. “Spence?” you ask, so close it makes him nervous, his stomach twitching of its own volition. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I know it’s soon. I know we’re not… locked in. I was just thinking about our future and our family, and I’m really happy. And– and if you did want to, I guess I wanna know if… would you ever have more?” 

“More kids?” he asks, dumbfounded. 

Your pupils are massive, staring down at him, giving your eyes this darkness so rare in your gaze. “Have you ever thought about it?” 

“Of course I have, especially with you.” 

You fluster but push through. Your laugh warms his lips as you lean down. “Don’t say that.” 

“Isn’t that what you just said?” 

You kiss him. He lifts his chin too fast to follow you and ends up pushing you away. His cheek is burning in your hand, your index finger to the corner of his eye and so, so tender where it touches an eyelash. “Amy’s so much like you, honey,” you say, tucking a long flyaway strand behind his ear. “And it’s all you.” 

Spencer wonders if you’re perhaps entering the ovulation stage of your period, but forbids himself from asking, should he sound like a freak. But surely you can’t be feeling as strongly as you are about this from story time alone. He’s not that good at telling them. 

“It’s not all me. Amy’s herself, and she’s parts of everyone she’s ever met. I think she’s been a lot braver since she met you,” Spencer says. 

He’s not sure what he said there, but you peer down at him like he’s entirely new. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, drawing a line across his cheek.

“I’d love to have a baby with you, I just thought saying that might be too much too soon.” 

“Well, it is,” you say, sounding insanely pleased, at odds with your words, “that’s so soon. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.” 

He thinks he gets it. Spencer covers your hand where you’re been caressing his cheek and brings it to his mouth, giving your knuckles a kiss. “You’re already so caring, you’ll make an amazing mother.” 

“Not just if we have babies though.” 

“No, I know.” His hand acts for itself as he tucks your hand against his neck. “Amy loves you.”

“She’s brilliant, Spence.” And whatever adoring you’d been ladening on him comes to an end. “Her vocabulary is insane for her age, she really is her father’s daughter.” 

You lay yourself across his chest again for a hug. 

Spencer applauds himself for surviving whatever that was. You, eyes dark and imploring, asking him about babies and touching him like that. “Amy would love a baby sibling,” he says. 

“How many should we have?” 

He laughs loudly. The taboo of everything being too soon is forgotten as you and Spencer talk about babies, houses, what middle school Amy might go to, what daycare you could send your babies to. It’s so exciting it makes his chest pang, thinking about living with you, about marrying you. And your enthusiastic answers make it worse. It’s clear you’ve thought about some of this stuff at depth. 

You could really get married one day, Spencer thinks. There’s a real possibility you might say yes. 

“Do you really think Amy wouldn’t mind a sister?” you whisper. 

“She’s asked me a couple of times how she can get one, so yeah. I think we can safely assume she’d like that.” 

“She asked you that?” you coo. “Aw, lovely girl, what did you tell her?” 

“Well, I told her she came from a pumpkin.” 

“You did?” 

“Mm. It was my fault then when she got very excited at Halloween.” 

You giggle into his neck. “When we have a baby, we’ll buy her a pumpkin.” 

“Or a squash, but I don’t think we could fit a baby in a butternut.” 

You hug him nice and hard. Spencer isn’t sure, but he suspects this is the beginning of a very new, very enjoyable chapter of your lives. Even more so when you nose at his jaw and mumble something about his ‘kissability’. 

[aro-absol]

[ID: A digital comic with a simple drawing style. It consists of long text that is accompanied by small drawings, matching what is said in the text. The text reads as follows: "I've always been a big reader. I was treating earlier and faster than most of my peers my whole childhood. [Three books: one is titled "Magic treehouse" and has the caption "kindergarten", one is titled "Harry Potter" and has the caption "first grade" and the last one is titled "Percy Jackson" and has the caption "third grade".] and my tastes have alwaystended towards the magical. fairytales, myths, and fantasy have been longtime favourites as far back as I can remember.

As I got older, my tastes didn't change all that much. They did expand, to being ok with things like horror, violence (and mild gore), death... As children's tastes tend to do. But I still loved fantasy stories just as much. When I hit eighth grade, however, they noticed a bit of a problem. I was getting a bit old for a lot of the middle-grade fiction books I liked. I thought: "Okay, sure! I've read adult-level books with no problem before, I'll just head for the fantasy section!" I asked a couple of friends for book recommendations, and culture reading except… [A drawing of many different scraps from books, all clearly from romantic and/or steamy scenes] ... All of it was just so stuffed with sex and romance. [A drawing of a person shaking their heads in disbelief and saying "ew" while reading the book, with an arrow pointing to them saying, "14 and very aro/ace"]

Needless to say, I did not want to read those books (and haven't to this day.) Thought bubble of the person just described continuing: okay, this is probably just my friend's stuff. I know they like these kinds of things. I'll just look for myself! [A drawing of a person standing in front of a big bookshelf that is labeled "young adult and teen fantasy". There are many different phrases pointing to the box on the shelf. The phrases read: "sex scene on the first page", "sex", "twilight", "romance "' subplot'", viscerally upsetting description of making out", "fade to black sex scene", "no sex but only technically", "sexy elves", essentially a romance really", "insane amounts of kissing".]... you gotta be kidding.

Over the years since then, I've tried to find fantasy stories that I can actually enjoy. [A drawing of a list titled "typically good". The bullet point read: D and D based (sex jokes but party focused), comics, fanfic, older media (pre-90s), MG fiction (last resort)] I've had some success at finding patterns that work for me, but a lot of these categories are very digital. (At least for me.) And because of that, all the time I once spent reading is now on my phone.

I don't really know where this is going, or what the solution is. Most people do like sex and romance, and reading about them. And this is just a thing for making a terrible comic day. I think it's pretty common for aro and/or ace people to feel left out, since so often these are treated as universal ideals. But to anyone feeling that way: I promise you are not alone. Also, allos: get better writing material, seriously. And better friends, since yours are apparently so terrible you can't write deeply meaningful relationships without kissing. (Half joking.) / End ID]

Note: this image description is not fully complete, as I left out some smaller drawings that I couldn't add into the text in a way that makes sense and weren't crucial for understanding. Also, I apologize if this description isn't clear to people who use screen readers but I do not know how to make it any better. If you have any suggestions, tell me please.

My (late) contribution for Make A Terrible Comic Day! I've been going to the library more often lately so this has been coming up a lot, cause I want something to read but have had trouble finding anything that I'm comfortable with.

If anyone has recommendations please please let me know because I am struggling.

[steveslevis]

i love you, it’s ruining my life

azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 3 of 3

summary: you finally start to recover from the attack at Windhaven, but struggle with the ghost of your suppressed mating bond.

warnings: mentions of injury and assault self-deprecation, use of painkillers, two idiots in love, lots of angst <3

word count: 9.6k (sowwy <333)

Three weeks, four days and thirteen hours. 

That’s how long Azriel stayed away from the House of Wind, from Velaris, to give you space and time to heal. 

He would’ve stayed away longer if it hadn’t been for Rhys’ incessant questioning ringing through his mind while he wasted the days training with the soldiers in Windhaven. The soldiers that were left after he and Cassian had banished–or taken care of–the ones who had planned to rebel with Cormac and Balvard. 

He would’ve stayed forever in Windhaven, as a punishment to himself for everything he’s put you through by pretending you didn’t even exist for the last four fucking centuries. 

But he couldn’t. 

Rhys demanded his presence at dinner tonight, telling him that he would have to face this–face you–eventually. Azriel knew that, that he would have to face you. He could handle seeing you again to make sure you were safe once more, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle seeing the fake glare you’d put on at dinner when you looked his way. 

Truly, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to be in the same room as you right now, because he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop himself from telling you to wipe that fake hatred right off your face, from grabbing you by the neck and kissing you in front of everyone, just like he’d wanted to for the last four fucking centuries. 

Still, he swallows his feelings and keeps the shadowy wall up around his heart as he heads to the Townhouse, mentally preparing himself to pretend as if he doesn’t know that you, of all people, are his mate. 

——————————————————————

Three light knocks on your bedroom door signaled that your brother was on the other side, causing you to hum in response, to which he took as an invitation into the room. 

You looked up from your spot on the bed, your thumb wedging between the pages of the book you were immersed in seconds before while you searched for your bookmark that was lost somewhere between your comforter and the fluffy white throw you had laid over your legs. 

“You’re disrupting my reading time,” you say to your brother with a glare, finally finding the bookmark you’d been searching for to shove it into your book, “I was just getting to the good part.” 

“Well, too bad, your disgusting romance novel can wait.” Cassian says with a grimace, pushing the door open to lean against the frame while glaring back at you, “it’s time for dinner. At the Townhouse.”

A groan falls from your lips at his words, making you shake your head as you toss the book onto the bedside table next to the other books Nesta had lent to you in the last few weeks to keep you from driving yourself insane while bedridden. 

“Do I have to?” you say with a frown, forcing your legs over the side of the bed to stand, since you already know the answer to your own question.

Cassian is at your side in an instant as you stand from the bed, making you shoot him another glare when he grabs your forearm to help you up.

“I can stand on my own, y’know.” you snap, shrugging out of his grip as you walk across the room to put on your shoes, “It’s been three, almost four, weeks now for God's sake.”

“Okay, okay fine.” your brother says, throwing his hands up in defeat as you walk across the room with ease. “Just hurry up, we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.” 

You bite your tongue to hold back from throwing another snide remark his way, quickly sliding into the shoes you’d toed off earlier in the day. Dread filled your chest as you turned back to Cassian, slowly realizing that you’d be–well, Cassian would be–flying to the Townhouse for dinner. 

The thought of being unable to fly yourself to the home across town makes you feel so empty and detached, like you’re no longer deserving of your spot in the Night court or the Inner Circle. You weren’t sure you could even use your daemati powers anymore to be honest, you’d been so drained mentally and physically that you hadn’t even tried. 

You felt so useless and alone and sad and so fucking worthless–

“Hey,” Cassian’s voice interrupted your thoughts, his elbow nudging your forearm lightly as he peers down at you, a smile–one that you can tell is forced–on his face, “you ready?”

You knew he wanted to say more, to tell you to get out of your own head, but held back for the risk of starting an argument. So you only smile up at him and nod, shoving your feelings down as you walk towards the balcony of your room, letting your brother take the lead as he takes to the sky. 

The wind against your skin is such a freeing feeling that you nearly forget that your wings aren’t the ones carrying your own body, but Cassians’. The crisp evening air nips at your cheeks as you fly over Velaris, as if the city is welcoming you home after so long stuffed in the House of Wind. A genuine smile crosses your face for a moment during the short flight, heart fluttering as you let the wind welcome you. 

The trip is over just as quickly as it started, and you’re being set down on the steps of the Townhouse before you even realize it. 

There’s a lone tear trailing down your cheek as Cassian sets you down, causing him to frown at you when he notices. 

“Soon, Y/N.” is all he says, smoothing your wind-blown hair down before turning to push the front door open.

Once again you’re forced to push your emotions down, to put on a weak smile as the two of you walk into the Townhouse. You’re greeted in the entryway by Feyre, who hugged you as if she hadn’t seen you in weeks, though she had seen you mere hours ago to drop off your favorite pastries to the House of Wind during breakfast, before pulling you towards the kitchen almost immediately, insisting you come to taste the new wine she’d bought to celebrate with before dinner. 

Before you could protest, you find yourself in the kitchen with Mor, Amren, and all three of the Archeron sisters. Mor is the first to wrap you in a hug, a grin spreads across her perfectly red lips as she pulls you in for a gentle hug. Elain follows closely behind Mor, quietly asking how you were feeling as she holds out a plate of fruit for you to choose from as she speaks. 

Nesta and Amren sit on the stools on the other side of the kitchen island, both giving you sidelong, but somewhat kind glances as they were deep in conversation. You didn’t take the cold welcome personally, as you and Nesta had become close over the last few weeks in the House of Wind, and Amren was…well, Amren. 

Feyre comes up beside you as you chat with Elain, a small and sympathetic smile on her lips as she extends a glass filled with what you can only assume to be faerie wine towards you. Your heart drops as she does, mind immediately thrown back to that moment when you were shoulder-to-shoulder with Cormac, the last time you’d drank wine. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to stomach drinking it again in all honesty. Before you can shake your head in protest, Feyre opens her mouth to speak instead.

“My special faerie wine, just for you.” Feyre says quietly enough for only you to hear, giving you an understanding look as she still extends the glass, “I didn’t think you’d feel up to drinking just yet, but I know how annoyingly incessant the males can be about celebratory drinks, so here,” you take the glass from her hesitantly, giving her a weak smile, “just some sparkling juice, I promise. There’s a whole bottle in there that I already told everyone was just for you.”

You smile at the High Lady, a sparkle of relief lighting your eyes as she reassures you. You had divulged the whole truth to her a week after the incident, letting her see into your mind to understand the extent of the damage that had been done that night in Windhaven, and even divulged a little too much about Azriel in the heat of the moment, too. She had known you felt more comfortable with her than with any man, and in that moment you were grateful Rhys had found an equally skilled mate who could help you when he couldn’t.

“Thank you, Feyre, really, this means a lot to me.” you say genuinely, pulling her back in for another hug, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill at the sentiment. 

You cursed yourself for being so emotional lately, but knew there was no stopping the inner turmoil you were dealing with unless you went straight to the source, to Azriel to finally spill your guts, which you knew wasn’t in the cards any time soon. 

You spent the next thirty minutes sharing laughs and talking about nothing in particular with Mor and Feyre, only stopping to give Elain input on the new tart she was trying to make for dessert. The empty feeling in your chest from the last three weeks in near solitude was quickly replaced by one of warmth and happiness, finally feeling at home once again in the room full of your favorite females. 

It was foolish of you to think the sentiment would last, though. You should’ve known that this wouldn’t be a normal and happy night, that you’d be faced with the one person you didn’t want to see. 

You nearly dropped the glass of sparkling juice when you pushed through the kitchen doors and into the dining room, faced with not two, but three Illyrian males at the table. They’re lost in conversation when you and Mor enter, but Azriel’s attention quickly snaps in your direction, eyes widening for such a short moment that you’re unsure if you imagine it or if they actually do. You collect yourself before turning your attention to your brother and Rhys, who both stopped talking to look over at you and the rest of the females walking through the kitchen door. 

“Finally done gossiping so we can start dinner?” Rhys suggests as you all begin to take your typical seats at the table, yours being between Cassian and Mor.

Habitual conversations begin as soon as everyone sits down, food soon appearing in front of everyone thanks to Rhys. Things feel relatively normal as you pile the food passed to you onto your own plate, unsure of how much you’ll actually eat of it as your mind wanders back into thoughts of the hazel-eyed, mysterious asshole sitting across the grand table from you. 

Every once in a while, you feel his eyes on yours as you pick at your food, as if he’s checking on you. And with every look in your direction, you feel yourself sinking into the chair beneath you, wishing for nothing more than the ability to winnow in that moment.

You felt like you’d fully regressed back to that person you were when you’d just found out Azriel was your mate, the shell of a female that it had made you was once more. You cursed the Gods for making this male have such a strong effect on you, for making you want nothing more than to be with him, to grab him by the neck and kiss him in front of everyone, just like you’d wanted to for your entire life.

But you knew better than that, knew that you had to keep up the act like you hated him as much as he hated you, knew that you would have to wait until that Gods damned bond snapped for him, however long that would take.

So you did what you did best, shooting a glare in his direction the next time you saw him looking your way, in hopes it would keep him from looking your way and make you fall even further into that shell than you already had. 

You’d already fallen so deep into that hole during your time at dinner that you barely heard when Nesta said your name, voice sounding like it was coming from miles away. 

“Sorry, Nes.” you reply, giving her a sheepish smile, “what’d you say?”

“I asked if you were ready for tomorrow?” she repeated, eyes sharp yet understanding as she looked your way.

“Oh–Yeah!” you say, a laugh falling from your lips, nodding quickly, “Of course, I’m excited to get back out there.”

“Back out where?” Cassian interjected, concern lacing his words as he turned towards you, never stopping his shoveling of the potatoes from his plate into his mouth as he spoke.

“You’re such a pig, finish eating before you talk.” you retort, shoving his shoulder with a disgusted look, “but if you must know, I’m coming to training with the Valkyries tomorrow morning.”

“Training?” your brother says with wide eyes as he drops his fork with a loud clunk onto the plate. “Like hell you are.”

“I am perfectly capable of training again, Cassian.” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He opens his mouth to make another snark, yet protective comment at your words when the world seems to stop for a moment, a humorless laugh coming from the other side of the table, coming from the male who’d been staring at you all night long. 

A laugh. He actually fucking laughed at the thought of you training.

Wide eyes from everyone at the table focus on the shadowsinger, the air seems to go still as everyone waits anxiously for the next words.

“Do you have something to say about my training, spymaster?” you nearly snarl at the male who seemed to share an equally annoyed expression with you.

“Like hell you’re perfectly capable.” he says lowly, eyes flickering to your still-healing wings at your back. “You can barely hold your own weight right now, let alone the wings at your back pulling you down and leaving you fucking limping from your back and hip pain. You wouldn’t be able to hold your own training for more than five minutes out there. You’re—You haven’t fucking healed at all. You haven’t been cleared to fly, let alone train in any capacity. It would be so damn foolish to even let you step foot out there.” Nobody dares to interrupt the male as he continues his rant, “I’m sure you’re back on those damn pain killers too, considering you can’t even feel—”

“Azriel—“ Rhys’ voice comes out in a quiet warning as he shoots his brother a glare, knowing exactly where he was going with his next sentence.

Everyone else at the table continues to stare at Azriel, seeing through the facade to see a love-sick and extremely worried male. You, on the other hand can only feel anger radiating off the male, can only feel spiteful words being spewed your way.

“No, Rhys.” you say with a bitter smile, blinking back the tears that are threatening to fall from your shimmering eyes, “let him continue, he obviously knows what’s best for me.”

The table is silent at your watery retort, even the previously fuming Azriel grounded by the tears in your eyes.

It hits him like a wall of bricks then, all the regret he had for the foolish rampage he had begun to slip into. His chest nearly caves in as he takes in the scene in front of him, how broken you looked as stared back at him, he could feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off you.

He opens his mouth to backtrack, to apologize, to take back the venom that just spewed from his lips and toward you, toward his fucking mate. But words fail him now, unsure of how he can make it any better at this moment.

“Tell me, Azriel.” you muse bitterly, “do you think it would just be better for me to follow the true Illyrian customs then? Should I have let Cormac and Balvard clip my wings? Should I have let Ci–”

Now Rhys cuts you off with a warning growl, knowing you were about to expose your tragic past in ways you’d regret as soon as they’d fall from your lips. 

“No, no.” Azriel shakes his head rapidly at your words, blinking quickly, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Like hell I did,” you scoff, pushing your chair from the table loudly, tossing your napkin onto the tabletop before excusing yourself.

Azriel knew better than to follow you, knew it wouldn’t end well if he tried to.

You sat on the couch near the fireplace only one room over from everyone, listening to their low conversations. Listening as Cassian scolded Azriel, telling him how stupid he was for trying to push you too soon, and how he needed to give you time and space. The wording of your brother’s scolding confused you slightly, but you didn’t care. You only cared about the hollowness that crept back into your chest, the empty feeling from where you couldn’t feel that unrequited bond anymore, likely from the painkillers that dulled any magic within you. So you let your silent tears flow, let yourself cry over the man who you had convinced yourself could never love you, let yourself drift into a sad sleep on the couch, the warmth of the fireplace inviting you into a dreamless state.

Unsure of how much time had passed, you awoke to the feeling of weight on the other side of the loveseat you sat on and a dark breeze passing over your neck, the caress of a shadow over your skin. 

Your eyes flutter open and Azriel’s heart almost breaks at the state of you. Your wings are tucked behind you tightly as if you were ashamed of them, eyes glossy from the remnants of sleep and tears, lips full and red from trying to bite back the sobs that threatened to escape before you let sleep take you in. The look you give him is one of confusion at first, but quickly turns to one of frustration then anger at the sight of the male in front of you.

He tries with everything in himself to reach out to you, to your soul, to tell you he’s there, but he can’t get through that haze in between the two of you put up by those painkiller tonics Madja gave you. She’d explained to him that you wouldn’t know that the bond had snapped for him until you were completely off the tonics, your magic was restored to its full power and he willingly uncovered his side of the bond to you. So he would wait, would try his hardest to befriend you and make you realize that he never hated you until that moment actually comes when you feel the snap. 

“Before you try to kill me–and rightfully so–” he starts, pushing his hand out in front of you, holding a plate of the tart Elain had made for dessert out to you, “I come with a peace offering, your favorite.”

You narrow your eyes at him, hesitant to take the plate from him at first. But there’s a pleading and truly apologetic look in his eyes, one that makes you give in almost immediately. You take the plate from him finally, gaining a small smile from the shadowsinger that makes your heart skip a beat, though you don’t let it show. 

Azriel watches as you take the first bite wordlessly, watching your features soften as you let out a soft groan, mumbling about how good it is.

“How would you know berries are my favorite?” you question finally, setting the fork back on the plate after another bite.

“You and Cass, you’d always give him your melons and he’d give you his berries at breakfast in Windhaven–” Azriel says, cutting himself off when he sees you wince at the mention of the camp, frowning as he speaks, “s–sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head.

“No–no. I’m sorry, for everything.” he replies, sitting up straighter on the couch to sit face-to-face with you. “For being an ass when you said you work alone, for doubting your abilities, for–for acting like you don’t exist for the last four and a half centuries.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you say with a sad smile, sinking back into the shell of self-doubt you’d grown accustomed to, “I get it, you don’t want anything to do with me.”

“I–That’s anything but true.” Azriel says, shaking his head quickly, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. “I know I acted like that but–I want to know you. I want to get to know you and be your friend. I just–just never knew how to approach you.” 

Truthfully, he wants to say that he never knew how to approach you without giving in to his desires and without telling you how much he needs you in every way, shape and form. 

You look up to him, weary eyes meeting his hazel ones in a curious gaze. You’re unsure if you truly believe him or not, but the look in his eyes seems sincere so you stay silent for now, willing him to continue. 

“I wanna make it all up to you,” he suggests, gauging your reaction as you continue to eat the tart. “I wanna train you, wanna help you get back to being the warrior that you were before everything happened. I can work with Madja too, to make sure that you’re healing properly and not over-exerting your wings. I can help you–”

“Why would you wanna help me now?” you interject quietly, still not believing that he actually wants to help you after essentially calling you incapable less than an hour ago, “did–did Rhys put you up to this? Did Cassian–”

“No, nobody put me up to this.” Azriel starts, shaking his head quickly, “I shouldn’t have said all those things back there, I was just worried. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore than you already are.”

You stare at the male for a long moment, searching through those amber eyes for any notes of deception but find none. Your heart tugs for his, trying to feel him through the obsidian smoke and gray haze between your souls, but there’s nothing, no tug in return, for now. The logical, and traumatized, part of your brain is screaming at you to run from the Illyrian male in front of you and never look back. But the romantic, and bonded, part of your heart is screaming at you to take anything he’ll give you, to trust him endlessly.

You were never one to listen to logic, anyways. 

“Fine.” you say finally, narrowing your eyes at him. “We start tomorrow. If you don’t think it’s good for me to train with the Valkyries yet then I’ll come after they leave in the morning.”

“You’ve got a deal.” Azriel says, smiling wider than you think you’ve ever seen him smile, making your heart flutter as you can’t help but give an equally wide smile in return. “I’ll see you at ten.”

——————————————————————

The late morning sun beat down on you as soon as you stepped foot on the roof of the House of Wind the next morning, dressed in your fighting leathers.

You spot Cassian, Nesta and Azriel across the roof, so deep in conversation that they didn’t notice your arrival.

“Are you ready to get your ass handed to you, Shadowsinger?”

The three turn to you when you speak, the ghost of a smile on Azriel’s lips when he takes you in, taking in your raw beauty as you stand in front of him in your leathers with your beloved sword sheathed at your side, your wings hanging higher than usual as you grin excitedly over at them. Azriel swears his heart skips a beat when he takes it all in, the hope glimmering in your eyes makes him extremely grateful that he decided to shove his feelings aside to help you train. 

“Oh, you’re not doing any kind of combat today.” Cassian scoffs at you, as if he’s offended that you’d even think you were going to spar with the Shadowsinger during your training.

Your smile falls as your brother talks down to you, and almost instantly turns into a scowl directed at him.

“You aren’t training me today, so you have no say in what I do and don’t do during this session, asshole.” you snap back as you take one last step to stand in front of Cassian, shoving your finger against his chest pointedly. 

There’s an expression you can’t quite read on your brother’s face when you look up at him, but he only ignores your combative response, looking to Azriel instead. He sighs and slaps Azriel’s shoulder before mumbling ‘good luck, brother’ under his breath as he begins to walk away. Before you can question the odd interaction, he and Nesta are already making their way back into the House of Wind. You turn to Azriel then, brows furrowing as you stare at the Shadowsinger. He gives you a sympathetic look then, his eyes softening as he notes the confusion in yours.

“Don’t shoot the messenger here, but I did speak to Madja in order to see what she’s okay with you doing during these training sessions.” he starts, brows knitting together as he tries to think of how to explain the situation. “Long story short, she doesn’t think you’ll be ready for combat or flight for another month or so.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach at his words, disappointment settling in your core as you feel your throat start to constrict and tears prick your eyes. You only shake your head in disbelief, though you know deep down that you’re in no shape to even think about sparring right now, considering your body is running off three and a half hours of sleep and an extreme amount of pain tonics. You’d been telling yourself that you were healing perfectly for the last three weeks, but it truly has been anything but perfect. 

Azriel reaches for your elbow with one hand as you take a step back in shock, concern filling his hazel eyes as he watches your internal panic.

“I know that’s not what you wanna hear today, but I promise that it’s for the best. Madja won’t clear you because she knows you have a lot of healing to do before fighting again.” Azriel interjects gently, careful with his words so he doesn’t set you off. 

“W–Well, what did she say I could do?” you say quietly as your voice strains, using all your strength to hold back from breaking down in front of him. You don’t have the energy to argue with him about it, to tell him that you’re fine. You want to scream and cry and fight him, but you know it’s no use. 

“She suggested that we try some of the exercises that we use during initial flight lessons in the camps, as physical therapy in a way.” he says, and you can tell he doesn’t like the thought of doing that based on the tone of his voice.

“Like–doing the exercises we teach the children when they’re learning how to fly?” you retort, brow furrowed as you mull over the suggestion. “That–That’s ridiculous. I’m five centuries old for fucks sake, I will not be treated like a damn child–”

Your eyes are squeezed shut in frustration as you speak, so you don’t see Azriel’s hands reach up to cup your cheeks, only feel it as you start your angry spiel, but it’s jarring enough to stop you in your tracks. Your eyes fly open at the featherlight touch, looking up to see the Shadowsinger staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. 

“I can’t let you get hurt, I–I can’t let you do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.” he says once he’s got your attention, “You can’t fly right now, you’re still healing. I know Madja has you on bone-mending medications and is giving you tendon repair salve every damn day and I know you should not strain your wings with anything other than light physical therapy right now. I know how much flying means to you and I know you don’t want to be treated like a child but please.” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper as he stares down at you, “Please, just let me help you heal, let me show you that I want to help you and that I’ve never hated you. A–And once you’re healed, once Madja clears you for flight and combat, we will do anything you want.”

There’s a sense of urgency in Azriel’s voice as he pleads his case, his hands firm against your cheeks as he stares down at you with an intensity that you’ve never seen from him before. He looks desperate, broken even. Little do you know, he’s tugging with all his might on his side of the clouded bond, silently hoping that you’ll feel him if he pulls hard enough, though it doesn’t work. You search his eyes for any signs of dishonesty, for any ill intent, but find none, so you sigh.

“Fine,” you finally say, forcing yourself to stay composed in front of the male as you step back and out of his grasp, though the feeling of his touch lingers on your cheeks as though he’s still grazing them. “Let’s get started, then.” 

Azriel’s shoulders sag in relief, surprised that you give in without much of a fight. Truthfully, you’re too mentally exhausted to even think about protesting, too tired of being kicked down every time you get your hopes up. So in the moment you choose to lower your expectations and tell yourself that you don’t deserve to fly anymore after being too damn stupid to see the attack coming, that you have to earn your wings back, that you might never earn your wings back if things go poorly. 

“Right,” he says with a nod as he stands up a little straighter, trying to stay serious as you look at him expectantly, “we can start with some simple things, like wing-lifts and getting your back and shoulders back into shape with a few different workouts.”

——————————————————————

Your training sessions with Azriel carry on for weeks, spending every single morning together after the Valkyries leave their training sessions. Sometimes you’ll see Gwyn or Emerie with Nesta when you make it up there a little early. There’s always an ache in your chest when you see the females, desperate to get better so you can just fucking train with them finally.

But you push your feelings aside and train with Azriel, pushing yourself past the point that you knew you should, but you couldn’t help it. Azriel always asked if you were okay to train, he genuinely could never tell, since you’d become almost completely unreadable after the incident.

Your body ached after every session, joints sore and wings aching, but you didn’t care. You needed to get better, you needed to get strong again and never let anything or anyone get to you in any way ever again. 

Though you were with the shadowsinger every single day, he felt as though he wasn’t making any progress with getting to know you or making you open up to him. His heart ached with longing after every training session, when you’d simply mumble a ‘thanks’ to him and make your way back to your bedroom at the House of Wind. He would try to joke with you, try to make conversation with you, hell, he’d even try to tug on that damn bond as hard as he could, but he could never seem to get through to you. So, he gave you space, gave you time, gave you what he thought you wanted from him instead of what he wanted. 

His desires could wait until you were off the pain tonics and could finally feel him reaching out to you.

Since you couldn’t be sent on any missions until you were off the pain tonics that suppressed your daemati skills, you had all the free time in the world. Any time not spent training your body, you spent training your mind. Though you didn’t have the ability to use your powers, you could still waste the days away with your nose buried in books about how to hone your skills and how to strengthen your mental shields. 

Everyone in the Inner Circle notices you reverting back to the shell of a person that you were when you initially found out that you were mated to Azriel, but this time was different. You were even quieter, kept to yourself even more, and they could all tell that you beat yourself up over every little thing you’d do wrong. Cassian tried to call you out on it one time when you were in the living room with him, Rhys and Feyre, but soon swore to never mention your new behavior again after you threatened to destroy him with your mind once you were able to use your powers again when he inquired. 

The only one who you ever confided in about your self-loathing and hatred was Feyre, she was the only one you felt you could trust enough to talk about everything with, about the mating bond, about the wing-clipping, about it all. She made it a point to check on you almost daily after that, insisting that you spend time with her a few times a week, whether it’s only to sit in silence and read your books together at the River House or to run errands around Velaris. You’re eternally grateful for her being there for you, for her forcing you to leave your bedroom and spend time thinking about anything other than the self-deprecating thoughts you had about yourself. 

It’s almost three whole months before Madja clears you to come off your pain tonics, but warns that the first full day off of them will not be completely pain-free. 

You heed her warning and tell the Shadowsinger that you won’t be attending training the next morning, in case you’re in excruciating pain. You swear you see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes when you tell him, but the expression is gone before you can question it, and so is he, as he turns on his heels to avoid facing you as his chest aches and his stomach churns at the thought of you possibly not wanting to train with him anymore. 

——————————————————————

Azriel is woken from a dead sleep in a cold sweat, shadows skittering nervously around his head as he sits up, an unfamiliar gnawing feeling eating away at his chest.

He looks around, glancing out the window to realize it’s still the middle of the night. He feels it again, that tug in his chest. It’s a feeling of agony and panic, a feeling coming from deep in his soul. It was something he’d never felt before, something so curious that he wasn’t sure how to deal with it, until the shadows came closer to his ears, whispering mate, mate, mate, in his ear.  

His heart flutters at the words, hands shaky as he pushes himself up in the bed. It’s the first time since you’d been on those painkillers that he’d been able to actually feel you through, actually reach out for you. 

He could tell you weren’t doing well by the tension on the thread between your souls, but he wasn’t sure what to do to help.

In that moment he thanked the Cauldron for fae hearing, because he heard a muffled cry of agony coming from down the hall that once again made his chest ache. Immediately he stands from bed, hastily shoving a sheathed Truth Teller into his sleep pants pocket before making his way out of the bedroom.

It nearly feels like an out-of-body experience as he rushes toward your room, mindlessly opening the door. All he can think about is helping you, making you feel better. He doesn’t even know what’s on the other side of that door, doesn’t know if you actually need help or not, but he’s ready to face whatever it is no questions asked, to help his mate. 

You’re laying on your side in the middle of your large bed when he steps in, only the moonlight flooding in from the window lighting your figure underneath the sheets. Your wings flare weakly as you squirm, small cries escaping your lips as your eyes squeeze shut. Azriel can tell you’re sleeping, and likely having an awfully realistic nightmare considering how strongly he could feel you when he woke. 

He rushes to the bed, sitting on the edge while reaching for your face. His large hands stroke your cheeks as he tugs for you through the bond, silently attempting to soothe you, willing you to wake from the nightmare.

It takes nearly a minute for you to stop thrashing in his grip, for you to finally come back to consciousness. 

You’re clammy when you wake, sweat and tears glistening over your face as your eyes flutter open. Your brow furrows when you look to see who helped you come down from the Gods awful nightmare, and it’s none other than your mate. 

Azriel gives you a gentle smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, which are shining with concern as he grasps your cheeks gently.

“There you are,” he says softly, hands finally falling from your face, “I—I wanted to make sure you were okay, heard you from across the hall.”

You stare up at the male before you for a long moment, taking in everything you can about your current situation. Azriel has one hand on your arm and the other next to your side, your faces mere inches from each other from when you sat up slightly in the bed. It’s the closest the two of you had ever been, and it took everything in you to not reach out and touch him to bring him even closer, to kiss him and never let go. 

It takes a few moments for you to fully register what’s happening. When you finally do, you sit up and push out of Azriel’s grip, embarrassment flushing through your chest as you stare at him. He stands from the bed as you sit up, something deep within him taking over and telling him you need space, and a glass of water. He knows the bond is directing his every move now, which makes his heart throb against his chest as he turns to your bedside table. There’s a carafe next to your pile of novels, which he takes in his unsteady hands to pour into the accompanying glass. 

He’s back to sitting on the edge of the bed in an instant, far enough away to give you space as you catch your breath. You take the glass of water when he offers, taking a long sip before looking back to him. When your gaze slips back to his, you become painfully aware of the very shirtless male in front of you. Your cheeks flush as your mind slips to places it shouldn’t for a millisecond, but you compose yourself quickly when his brow furrows. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” he presses, a frown on his lips as he watches you carefully.

“Y–Yeah, I did.” you breathe out, hands shaky as you raise one to run your fingers through your hair. “I guess those tonics were repressing more than just physical pain.”

“You stopped taking the painkillers?” Azriel asks, trying not to sound too excited. “Did you get cleared from Madja? Did she say it was okay?”

You nod once, wondering why he’s so invested in your consumption of pain tonics all of a sudden.

It all makes sense to Azriel then, why he could feel you so intensely after not feeling you through the bond for so long.

A rush of relief mixed with a twinge of terror flows through Azriel when you nod, realizing he has less time to mentally prepare for the truth that the two of you would have to face very soon. But it also means he’ll finally get to breathe around you, finally admit that he knows that you’re his mate, his fated lover. 

Deep down, you know it too, but are too scared to admit it at the moment.

So the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, neither sure of what to say to the other. Two cowards in love, two cowards afraid to fess up, two cowards staring the mating bond in the face but choosing to ignore it for the sake of saving their hearts. 

The silence between you is too much for Azriel, so he stands from the bed. You look up to him, eyes shining with a look that he can only describe as fearful enough to make him stop in his tracks.

You truly are disappointed when he stands, secretly wishing he’d attempt to coddle you and offer to take care of you. You curse yourself silently for letting yourself feel so much towards him in this vulnerable moment, especially after working so hard to become an emotionless wall of obsidian for the last three months. 

“I–I’m sorry for barging in, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” he stammers, watching as his shadows insist on swirling around you in a protective manner insteading of coming back to him. “If you’re really okay, I’ll just go–”

“S–Stay.” you nearly beg, eyes shimmering with tears you didn’t know were there as you stare up at him. His face flares with shock at your words, taken aback by your desperation. “I–I mean, if you don’t mind. I just–just would really appreciate the company.” you continue, feeling pathetic as you try to reel yourself back in mentally before you start sobbing in front of him.

“If you want me to, I can, I’ll keep guard for you if it makes you feel safe.” he says simply, smiling weakly at you. 

Azriel is quiet as he walks towards the desk on the other side of your room, pulling the chair to face towards the bed before sitting down. He turns to you to see your brow furrow as he sits, lips pulled into a frown. His gaze softens as you stare at him and you know you look pitiful, but can’t help the way your heart aches for him, the way your body craves his next to yours right now. 

“Are you alright?” he questions, frowning back at you as his shadows skitter around your face in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Would you–fuck.” you murmur, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Would you want to stay in the bed with me?”

He’s up in an instant, his heart working faster than his mind as he nods at you. Your own heart skips a beat as he glides over to the bed, climbing into the spot that you leave for him. He slips under the covers but sits with his back propped against the pillows, halfway sitting up as one of his wings hovers over you in a protective manner. 

You can’t help but give him a watery smile as you inch closer to where he’s sitting, looking up at him as if you’re waiting for permission to approach him. He gives you an inviting smile back, adjusting his arms so you can get as close to him as you want. You’re hesitant at first, but push past your doubts as you lay next to him, your body flush against his side as you lean your head against his warm chest. 

You try to go back to sleep, but your body is still tense against his, on edge as the nightmare you just woke up from replays in your head every time you close your eyes. Azriel’s arm relaxes at your back, his hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder gently.

“I’m here,” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he reaches down to wipe a rogue tear that slipped down your cheek. “You can sleep, you’re safe with me.”

That’s all you need to hear for your body to fully relax finally, drifting to sleep as you try not to think about the conversation you’ll have to have with the shadowsinger in the morning.

——————————————————————

Sunlight streams through the large window in your bedroom when you wake, groaning softly as you grab a pillow to cover your eyes and curse yourself internally for forgetting to shut the blinds last night. 

It takes a moment for you to realize that your bed is emptier than it was when you fell back asleep last night, the space where the shadowsinger once sat now empty next to you. You sit up in bed when you realize you’re alone, a sinking feeling in your chest as you do. 

The sinking feeling is quickly replaced by one of joy when you look to the empty side of the bed and see what he left in his place. There’s a silver tray on the bedside table next to where Azriel slept, and on top of it is a plate with an almond croissant from your favorite bakery and a cup of berries next to a glass of water and the rest of the pills and salves that Madja had you on. 

A note sits by the food that reads ‘Gone to train. Didn’t want to wake you, you looked too peaceful. Enjoy.’ 

You truly don’t stop smiling the entire time you eat, unable to fight the giddiness that you feel from the tiny act of kindness. You read over the note at least ten times, memorizing every swirl and scribble of his writing before starting to get ready for the day. 

Though there’s an ache in your wings as you stretch them when getting dressed, just like Madja had warned you about, you realize that you haven’t felt this good in months. Your chest feels lighter, mind clearer, and eyes brighter as you think about your mate. 

Mate…Mate…fuck.

Your excited mood sours when you think about the conversation that has yet to be had with Azriel. You’re almost entirely sure that he knows now, considering you’re 99.99% certain you could feel his concern for you striking down the bond last night when you woke from your nightmare. 

It takes you longer than it should to get into your leathers, but you’ve decided that you want to train, want to face Azriel this morning, want to see which of you will be the first to break. 

The sun feels more intense than normal as you make it to the roof of the House of Wind, just in time to see Azriel, Cassian, and–surprisingly–Rhys stowing their weapons away after wrapping up their own training. It’s well past the time that the Valkyries finish their daily session, so the three of them must’ve wanted to take advantage of you asking for the day off, using the hour to spar with each other instead. They’re all shirtless, likely due to the heat, so your eyes obviously drift directly to your mate as soon as you step foot onto the roof. 

He’s facing away from you, so you can see the swirls of his dark tattoos over the expanse of his back and shoulders. There’s sweat beading down his neck and you can see that his hair is slightly damp as he runs his fingers through it. Your mind wanders as you stare at him, wondering what it would be like to dig your fingers into the skin of his back while you’re under–

Your thoughts are interrupted by a lone shadow snaking around your hand as Azriel whips around, looking in your direction likely due to his other shadows alerting him to your presence. He raises a brow when he sees you in your leathers, mouth open as if he’s about to speak as you approach the trio, but he says nothing. 

“We thought you were taking the day off today,” Cassian says, stepping in for Azriel as he’s obviously at a loss for words. 

“I was supposed to be,” you start, looking down to your side to adjust the sword there as it wobbles in its sheath, “but Madja’s prediction about my pain levels after coming off of the pain tonic were wrong, I’m feeling great this morning. So, I decided to come up and train, with or without a trainer.”

Azriel doesn’t miss the way your eyes glimmer with confidence and hope as you speak to your brother, knowing that he’s not likely to try to argue with you now that you’re cleared to spar and use your powers again. It’s the happiest he’s seen you in months, and it makes his heart swell, accidentally projecting his adoration in your direction. Your smile falters as you feel a tug at your own chest, eyes flicking towards him as your heart lurches. 

As the two of you stare at each other with wide eyes, you feel a talon rake down your obsidian mental walls that you’re finally able to put up again. 

Are you alright? Rhys questions wordlessly, making you finally break your staring contest with Azriel.

Quite alright. Just ready to spar and have a very serious conversation with a specific shadowsinger, if you don’t mind giving us some privacy. You snap mentally, glaring at Rhys as he smirks at you. 

Is it finally happening? He retorts teasingly.

Not if you don’t get out of my head and off this damn roof. You bite back before slamming your mental shields back up, blocking the High Lord from teasing you anymore. 

“Well, I don’t have any urgent tasks this morning, so we can continue with training as usual if you’d like.” Azriel suggests, the faintest smile on his lips as he stares at you. 

Cassian looks between the two of you for a moment, eyes wide before taking a step back with Rhys, who leads him away before he can ruin the moment for you. He’s probably silently telling your brother what’s about to happen as they walk away, considering you hear Cassian say ‘fucking finally’ as they reach the door.

“That sounds great,” you say finally, smiling at him meekly.

The morning proceeds as usual, but you’re a little more distant than usual, and it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that he’s standing in front of you shirtless as he instructs you how to kick and punch defensively, or the fact that you just felt him tug on the bond. Yeah, it definitely has nothing to do with either of those things. 

“You’re distracted.” Azriel says matter-of-factly when you throw a half-assed punch that he easily blocks with his forearm. 

“Oh, am I?” you say sarcastically, sweat beading down your forehead as you throw another kick towards the male, though he easily pushes your leg back down. 

“Wanna talk about it? Or do you just want to punch it out?” he suggests, raising a brow as you huff in annoyance. 

“Just wanna punch it out, can’t–can’t talk about it.” you retort, shaking your head.

You’re terrified to admit what you felt earlier, terrified that he’s going to laugh in your face and tell you that he’d never want you and that you’ve been pining over him to no avail. 

“I think you can talk about it. I think you’re just scared,” he taunts, confidence rising in him as he feels your frustration and longing subconsciously projected down the bond.

“You’ll laugh at me,” you pant out, pushing down your feelings as you throw another punch. “You’ll hate me and never talk to me again if I talk about it.”

That’s when Azriel’s face drops, his hand coming up to grasp your wrist when you try to throw one last punch. He feels like he’s just been punched in the gut, like he’s the biggest asshole in the world. You truly think he hates you and that he would never want anything to do with you other than training you and being acquaintances. His heart lurches at the thought, but he keeps his composure as he looks down to you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he insists, frowning at you. 

Your breath hitches as he maintains his light hold on your wrist, tugging you closer so you’re shielded by his wings from the sun beating down on you. 

“You–You don’t get it.” you say, voice barely audible as you fear for the worst.

You tell yourself that he’s going to want nothing to do with you after you finally say what you’ve both been feeling for the last day, that he’s going to reject the bond and never speak to you again. That’s what you’ve told yourself since the day the bond snapped for you all those years ago, so why would it be any different now?

“What don’t I get?” he implores.

He wants you to be the one to admit it, to confirm what he’s been feeling, to confirm that he isn’t delusional. He needs to hear you say it, he feels like he’s going to die if you don’t say it in the next thirty seconds to be honest.

“You can say it, tell me what I don’t get.” he coaxes, eyes glued on yours as you stare at his hand wrapped around your wrist. “I won’t laugh at you.”

You finally look up at him with that, seeing that there’s nothing but serious adoration shining in his eyes as he waits impatiently for you to speak. He’s about to explode if you don’t just fucking admit it.

“I know that you know, Azriel.” you say bluntly, frowning up at him, “I–I know that you know that I’m your Gods-damned mate, and I know that you’ve been ignoring it because you don’t want it to be true. I know you wish that anyone else in this world was your mate–”

Before you can continue your breakdown, you feel two warm hands on your cheeks, pulling you towards the male in front of you. Something wonderful blooms in your chest as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. There’s five hundred fucking years of intensity behind that kiss and it almost knocks you off your feet, but Azriel is there to wrap a strong arm around your waist to pull your body flush to his instead.

He doesn’t pull away for a while, savoring the way your lips feel against his as if it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to touch you in his life. It feels so right to be kissing you, like your bodies are made to be flush against each other, like your lips were made to mold to each other’s. 

Once he does pull away, there’s a wild look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, one you can only assume is filled with love and satisfaction. 

“I don’t know what made you think that I would hate the idea of being your mate, but I’ve been waiting five fucking centuries for this moment right here.” he says against your lips, both of your souls humming with excitement as he pulls you back in for another quick kiss. “It’s a true honor to be your mate, and I promise to make up for every moment of lost time that we had over the last five decades in any way that I can. I promise to keep you safe and never let you feel alone ever again. You’re not getting rid of me for a very long time.”

Relief washes over you at his words, though you’re unable to completely comprehend the fact that he actually wants you back. It’ll come to you eventually, so for now you push the doubt you have away in order to enjoy the moment the two of you are sharing.

“You promise?” you say, eyes shimmering with more tears, thankfully these ones are happy tears for once.

“I promise,” he retorts with a smile, “I promise to give you everything you deserve and more, okay?”

“That sounds perfect to me,” you giggle, reaching up to cup his cheeks gently as he leans into your touch. 

He grins and pulls you in for another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last, if not more. You never want him to pull away, never want to forget the feeling of his lips against yours. It feels as though time stops for a moment while the two of you stand there, soaking up all of the love shimmering through the bond between your souls.

“Hey! Finish up your love fest and get your asses inside.” you hear your brother call out from the door to the roof, wondering if he was eavesdropping this entire time, “It’s time to celebrate you two idiots finally admitting what we’ve all been waiting to happen for years.” 

Azriel chuckles against your lips one more time before pulling away, placing a kiss on your forehead before reaching for your hand. 

“You ready?” he asks gently as you intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” you retort, following him inside to begin the rest of your eternal lives, finally together. 

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[spaceman-earthgirl]

“Agatha and Rio arrived at school together this morning,” Jen says by way of greeting, dropping her books on the table and joining Alice and Lilia.

Alice looks up, half intrigued, but Lilia keeps her head down, ignoring Jen except for a little wave in greeting.

It’s before school, and the staff room is mostly empty, giving them plenty of space to gossip before the school day starts. Though not a lot of time, the bell for first period is about to ring so they better make this quick.

“When you say ‘arrived together’ do you mean they got out of the same car, or just walked into the building together?" Alice asks.

Jen deflates a little. “I saw them walk into the building together.”

“Then that proves nothing,” Alice says, returning to her book too.

It’s been a hot topic of discussion over the last few months, what’s going on between the two of them, ever since Alice had seen them in the hallway together, Agatha laughing at something Rio said. 

The way Alice tells it, Rio even touched Agatha’s arm, but that detail was added after a few retellings so Jen isn’t so sure about that part.

Either way, ever since they noticed, they can’t stop speculating, because even just the few times Jen has seen them interact since, there’s definitely been a vibe.

Lilia has repeated on multiple occasions that she thinks they’re together, but they need proof.

And Jen is determined to find it.

---

“Someone sent Agatha flowers.”

Jen grins, Alice always gets the good gossip.

“Who are they from?” Jen asks. There’s a pile of homework she needs to grade before her next class but this is more important.

“I’m not sure, I was in the main office when they got delivered. I managed to sneak a look at the card but all it had on it was a little green heart.”

Jen thinks about this for a minute. “A secret admirer perhaps? Maybe even one who teaches biology a few doors down.”

“There’s no way to prove that,” Alice says, but she still looks on board with this information.

“What if we just ask Agatha?” Jen asks, keeping a straight face for as long as she can before she bursts out laughing, Alice, and even Lilia joining in.

“It’d be your funeral,” Alice says.

And Jen knows it would be.

Agatha is snarky and no bullshit and you always want her on your side in an argument. There’s no way she’s risking Agatha’s bad side.

When she’d first met Agatha, she’d wondered why someone like her would even want to be a teacher, and then she’d actually seen her with her students and she’d changed her mind. Agatha might be scary, but she has a way with kids that Jen didn’t expect.

Maybe it’s the no bullshit thing that kids respect, but whatever it is, the kids love Agatha and she seems to love them too.

But there is still no way she’d ever ask Agatha about her personal life. From what Jen can gather from their limited interactions is that Agatha is a private person, and she’s not going to question that.

She really hopes Agatha never finds out that their favourite way to spend their lunch break is gossip about her and the chemistry she clearly has with Rio.

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut

---

“I just saw Agatha and Rio having lunch together in Agatha’s classroom.”

They really don’t greet each other normally anymore, they just spill gossip. She hopes the other teachers don’t overhear them. Or if they do, they have gossip to contribute.

“I knew it,” Jen says, like that’s the proof they needed when in fact it proves nothing except the fact that they’re friends.

Which they knew already, so that’s not news. They've seen them together enough to know that they're friends, which only adds fuel to their speculation because Agatha doesn't have any other friends at school besides Rio.

“And they were sharing a sandwich,” Alice adds.

Ok, that might be something. 

“’Lady and the tramp’ style?” Jen asks, because that’s the first thought that pops into her mind when Alice says it and she also knows Alice will hate her question.

As expected, she gets a withering gaze in return. “No not ‘lady and the tramp’ style, they were sharing a sandwich like normal people do, Rio handed Agatha half of her sandwich, but that’s all I glimpsed as I walked by.”

“I mean, that’s kind of something I guess?” Jen says. “Lilia, back me up?”

Lilia barely looks up from the book she’s buried in. “You already know my opinion on the matter, but that alone proves nothing.”

“I’m adding that to the list of signs they’re dating,” Jen decides after some thought. It doesn’t really prove anything either way, but she’s going to figure it out.

---

“Guess who is chaperoning the school lock in tonight together?” Jen asks. She feels like this is good information.

“I’m guessing Agatha and Rio?” Alice answers, taking a carrot stick from the container Jen offers. 

“As well as about 10 other teachers,” Lilia pipes in, ruining the fun.

Lilia is still firmly in the camp of ��they’re definitely together, and why bother gossiping about someone else’s personal life?” but even she sometimes gets involved. She’d been the one that noticed Rio wearing a shirt she swears up and down she’d seen Agatha wear before.

But maybe they just shop at the same place, so that proved nothing either.

“Are either of you two chaperoning?” Jen asks. When they were taking volunteers, she’d said no. She couldn’t think of anything worse than being locked in the gym overnight with a bunch of kids. 

Agatha doesn’t usually volunteer for school activities either, which is why this is a little suspicious.

“No,” Alice says as Lilia shakes her head.

Damn, she wishes she’d volunteered now, they might’ve gotten some good intel.

On Monday, they get no information from any of the other teachers because she’s pretty sure no one else is as invested as they are so that’s a bust.

---

Jen is halfway through her sandwich when Agatha walks into the staff room. She watches in surprise as Agatha crosses the room, takes a seat at the only empty table and pulls out her lunch.

“Do you think they’ve had a fight?” Alice asks, as quietly as she can. There’s no need to ask who she’s talking about, they all know.

They’re all fairly certain that Agatha and Rio spend every lunch break together, so why not today?

The logical answer is that she’s busy so Agatha is eating alone but gossip and speculation isn’t logical.

A couple minutes later, Rio walks in and the imaginative side of Jen’s brain runs away with her, to the point that by the time Rio has crossed the room, Jen is expecting a fight because in her mind they’ve broken up, but all Rio does is sit down next to Agatha and pull out her own food.

Jen deflates a little. Not that she’d wanted a fight, but it at least meant they might get some drama.

That doesn’t stop her from watching them though. As subtly as she can, of course. She can see Alice and Lilia doing the same, all three looking for clues to whether something is going on between them or not.

But it’s about as boring as watching anyone else each lunch. All they’re doing is talking and eating and Jen is just starting to wonder if maybe they’re reading too much into things when it happens.

Jen can’t see from where she’s sitting what Agatha is eating, but whatever it is, it must be messy enough for Agatha to get something on her face. Rio reaches out and wipes her thumb across Agatha’s lips, removing whatever food was there, before bringing the thumb to her own mouth to lick it clean.

Alice immediately clutches Jen’s arm, clearly just having seen it too.

They (again, subtly) watch in silence until Agatha and Rio get up and leave not long later, nothing else eventful happening after the incidentTM.

“Did you see that?” Alice asks as soon as Agatha and Rio are gone.

“That is not 'just friends’ behaviour,” Jen says, still in shock at what they’d witnessed. Maybe there was something to this after all.

“I mean-“ Alice starts, like she’s about to justify it.

“No. Do you ever do that with your friends?”

“No,” Alice says, her cheeks going red.

“Exactly. So we’re adding this to the list of evidence that they’re dating.” Not that that list is very long, but if they’re not dating, then they’re clearly into each other, evidenced not just by what Rio had done, but by the fact that Agatha hadn’t punched her afterwards.

---

It’s early, earlier than she’d usually arrive at school, but they have a school spirit event today so they’d all arrived early to set up their classrooms.

But before that, Jen needs coffee.

There are a few other teachers on campus, all trying to get an early start on the day, so she’s not surprised when they walk into the staff room and find they’re not alone.

What she very much is surprised by, however, is that the two people in the room are Agatha and Rio.

And they’re kissing.

It’s a fairly chaste kiss, as far kisses go, which is probably good considering they’re at school. But Agatha is pressed close to Rio, Rio crowded against the counter.

At least their hands are in appropriate places.

The noise of the door closing must alert them to the fact that they’re not alone as they break the kiss and turn towards the noise.

“Morning,” Rio smiles, giving a small wave. She makes no move to push Agatha away though and Agatha doesn’t move either. Agatha does give a flippant wave in their direction which Jen is assuming is also a hello.

Clearly, they don’t care that they’ve been caught because Rio turns back to Agatha, saying something too quietly for them to hear but whatever it is, Agatha laughs.

Jen will blame the lack of coffee and the fact that they’ve been speculating about this for months for her next words.

“You two are together?” Jen asks before she can stop herself. There definitely was a more tactful way to ask that but it’s too late.

“I told you,” Lilia says, as Agatha and Rio turn back to them, finally stepping apart. Lilia pays everyone no mind as she walks across the room and starts making herself a coffee.

Jen ignores her, too focused on the two women on the other side of the room.

Agatha looks mad now, which is a little scary, but Rio looks amused.

“Are you serious?” Agatha asks, voice gruff, and Jen is starting to have regrets. But they’re in this now, and there’s only one way to find out the truth.

“We just…” Jen looks to Alice for support, but she holds her hands up in a way that says ‘don’t make me a part of this’. 

Traitor.

“We’d just noticed you two spending a lot of time together and you obviously have chemistry so we couldn’t help wondering if something was going on.”

Rio looks even more amused, and there’s a slight quirk to Agatha’s lips too which means she’s at least not contemplating killing her right now.

“You know nothing exciting ever happens in Westview,” Jen adds, like it justifies their actions. “It was just idle gossip.”

“Well, Rio starts. “You know, I saw Agatha and I just couldn’t stay away. I’ve been trying to get her to go on a date with me all year, it was those sexy reading glasses that-

Agatha gives Rio a slight shove, pushing her away and cutting her off. Agatha still doesn’t look mad at least. “We’re married,” Agatha says with a roll of her eyes, but the look is directed at Rio.

“See, I just couldn’t stay away,” Rio grins, gesturing to Agatha. “All she did was ask me one little question and now I’m hers fore-“

“Stop,” Agatha cuts in, giving Rio another playful shove but she’s looking at Rio with such affection that no one could deny them being in love. “Or else you’re walking home.”

Rio holds her hands up in surrender with a grin.

“You’re married?” Jen finally asks, incredulous. She almost feels like she’s intruding on something.

How on earth did they miss that?

“We’ve been married for eight years,” Agatha supplies, looking a little annoyed again. It’s very clear that the annoyance is directed at them, and not Rio. “It’s not a secret, everyone knows.”

Jen’s mouth drops open. 

“Or we thought everyone did.” Rio says, taking Agatha’s hand, threading their fingers together. “We have a kid too, if that helps,”

Jen feels each new piece of information like a physical blow. She needs to lie down, this is too much this early in the morning.

They clearly missed a lot.

“Come on,” Rio says, giving Agatha’s hand a tug. “Let’s leave these guys to whatever it is they’ve got going on here.”

“Sorry,” Jen says, having the decency to look sheepish as Agatha and Rio walk past them.

Even more so when Agatha stops and turns to them. 

“Maybe next time, don’t gossip about people behind their backs. If you have a question, just ask.”

“You heard the lady,” Rio winks, tugging on Agatha’s hand once more and then they’re alone again.

Jen and Alice wait a few short moments, making sure Agatha and Rio are out of earshot before they turn to each other.

“Oh my God,” Jen says, at the same time Alice says “I thought Agatha might hit you there for a moment.”

“I told you so,” Lilia says, carefully setting down three cups of coffee on their usual table.

She’s a lifesaver.

“I’m sorry, you did,” Jen says, gratefully accepting the mug. “Next time, I’ll believe you.”

“I can’t believe we missed it, all this time,” Alice says, looking equally grateful for her drink.

“Technically we missed nothing, we thought something might be going on and we were right.”

Jen is sticking by the fact that they got this one right.

“Yeah,” Alice says. “But married for eight years is a little different than wondering if two people are dating.”

Jen waves her off. “Details. But don’t think I will forget that you basically threw me under the bus there.”

Alice is the one who looks sheepish now. “Sorry, but she’s scary.”

Jen won’t deny that. “So, who’s going to be our next source of gossip? We’re going to need something new to talk about.”

Alice rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest, which is either because she’s too tired this early, or because she wants the gossip too.

Probably both.

“What about your love life?” Jen teases, earning a glare from Alice that she knew was coming. So, what? It’s easy to wind her up.

“Don’t you dare,” Alice warns.

“Fine,” Jen laughs. She’s sure they’ll find something else to gossip about, at least for now they’ve solved the Agatha and Rio mystery. 

Which wasn’t really a mystery after all, because it was common knowledge.

Apparently they were just the last to find out.

[chaoskull]

Lawrence Alma-Tadema - Ask me no more

Carelessness to Respite

Roboute Guilliman x gn!reader

Summary: Guilliman is neglecting himself, as his spouse, you cannot let this keep happening further more.

This is for you Guilliman addicts, ENJOY!

Guilliman had been stuck on his office for far too long, reviewing reports, ordering resources, and writing his signature. It had become a default movement for his hand, to glide a pen through paper drawing his name for hours.

"You've been at this table for how long?" Your question was left unanswered, as his focus was entirely on the words in front of his eyes. You clear your throat, the sound disrupting his concentration.

"Don't you want something to eat or drink?"

He waits a second to see if you're merely trying to stop him from his work. "If it isn't too much to ask, I could accept a beverage."

There was a gleam in his eye, one visible at times he felt true enjoyment, you were surely the only able to find. It is rare to see it, ever since he had awoken from his wound, the arduous task of keeping the imperium together had left him exhausted.

Leaning over his shoulder, you take a look at his desk. A sea of documents, you recognise a few names, mostly Sicarus, probably complaining. "That's a lot of papers, my husband"

He let out a deep, tired sigh. You were concerned over his well being, there had been a time where he was far more attentive to his health.

"I'll be back, and you had enough recaff for today" You say as leave him with a kiss to his forehead. He gave you a tired but appreciative gaze as you left, slowly drifting back to the pile of papers and reports, turning his attention back to work.

When you returned, he was still reading through the paperwork. "I wonder when you will take a break" you comment as you place a glass of wine and plate, it had a much bigger sized loaf of bread with sweets to accompany, on his desk.

"Thank you, my love. But I'm afraid I still have a lot of work that needs done." He takes the glass to take a sip and pulls the plate out of his way.

"No, first you eat" You insist, ordering him to stop his irresponsible behavior, snatching the pen he held in his hand and placing it on a holder.

"And what will you do if I don't?" He challenges you, amused by actions, he lets you continue this scene, waiting for a comeback.

"Something you won't like, now eat" I push the plate closer to him. He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head, he ran a hand through his eyes to remove some of his fatigue, you were right, he felt terrible inside, so he obliges. "If that is how it is, I'll eat"

He reaches out and picks up the glass of wine again, taking a long drink. Grabbing a slice of bread, he took a bite. Slowly he starts to feel more relaxed, enjoying the small halt from his work.

You sat beside him, on the armrest of his chair, if not you wouldn't be able to get so close to his height, you had watched him finish his entire meal, not letting him neglect himself, as he had for so long.

"I hope you know I won't leave your side ever again" You whisper near his ear, he was done eating by the time you said it, and so this time, as he looked at you, a smile formed in his lips.

Content with the primarchs reaction, you catch him slightly off guard bringing in an embrace. He holds you with as much enthusiasm, as he deflates himself, his head falling into your shoulder.

The day had ended and you were still helping him finish his reports, you had to usually beg him to do so, but this time it wasn't needed.

Surprisingly, no one had come into his office that afternoon to end the moment of you two together.

It's a short little thing, but I hope you liked it!

[tamayula-hl]

Sorry I have skipped answering anonymous messages for a while 🫣

Thank you so much for all the wonderful sunflowers(Himawari)! 😭😭🙏✨🌻💕 (And sorry I'm always getting them and not spreading this joy to other people's inboxes 🙇‍♀️) I'll continue to have fun creating various Slytherins content 💪😌💕.

YESSSS! I want to draw more about Sakurako and I always want to draw something like an introduction sheet about the Seb x Sakurako ship, but there are so many other things I want to draw that those inevitably take a back seat 🤣. But I hope to draw Sakurako soon 💪.

Aww, that's a very great idea! I'd love to see Slytherins struggling with parenting for the first time so I'd love to draw about this one day 😭✨. I can just see Ominis looking troubled and flustered while holding the baby, and Seb at a loss after trying to look things up in a book that he doesn't understand and can't solve… 😏.

ありがとうございます！ I am very happy and honoured to receive such a compliment! I've been studying painting in my sleep lately, so it's a great relief to know that I'm growing thanks to your message!

Personally, I think that the less revealing swimming costumes of the olden days are attractive, but as an artist, it is more fun to draw sexy swimwear, so I would like to draw HL Girls like in the ending of Naruto! 🤣 I'd like to draw about them next summer 🤭

Thanks for showing me a great story! If I get a good idea to illustrate these in pictures, I'd like to draw them someday 🤭💕

I am glad to hear such compliments! Thank you! And ahh, I would very much like to see Ominis in that situation!🥹✨✨ It must be fascinating to see him realising that his partner's unusual voice and breathing is causing them to be injured, and then impatiently trying to treat it as calmly as possible..! I hope to draw this soon 😏😏😏.

In Japan, when drawing a character x OC, we sometimes use a representation without their eyes to show that the OC is a character with no particular backstory or personality (or we sometimes represent the OC as a pure white mannequin, without drawing not only the eyes but also the hair and skin colour)😌 To be honest, I've been struggling for over a year and a half now to decide whether I should or should not draw eyes on personality-less OCs 🤣🤣

Oh, I've been recommended that fiction by various people and would love to read it, but you'll have to forgive me for not having read it yet 😭😭🙏. I'm especially sorry that lately I've been concentrating on my painting studies, cutting down on sleep and food, and I haven't been able to read at all not only the works recommended to me, but even those of my friends I follow: …… I will definitely read those works when I have the mental capacity to do so! 🙇‍♀️

As a Japanese, I would like to draw the HL character in MahouTokoro uniform one day 🤭💪. I think it's supposed to be unclear if Mahoutokoro has dormitory groupings like Hogwarts, and from a Japanese point of view there are a lot of pretty weird things about Mahoutokoro and the Japanese wizarding world, but I enjoy fantasising about these… 😏💕

Of course! I love Japanese anime 😫😫💕. I especially love Naruto, I can't tell you how many fanart and fanfictions I've drawn over the past 20 years since I got into Naruto when I was 10 years old 🤣💕. Death Note and Crayon Shin-Chan are other Anime (Manga) that I've loved for years and years and have had a huge influence on me!

I am so glad you liked the 2024 Slytherins! I think I have discovered a new fascination for them by painting that picture! And I get dizzy just thinking about Slytherins with hair in the picture you sent me 😫🥵💕. They must definitely be cool with long hair too! Especially the long- hair Ominis, I've been wanting to draw him for a long time now🤭 I'll try to draw them with long hair one day 💪💪💪

In fact, just a year ago I drew about Seb like that, though maybe not quite the same 🤭 (https://www.tumblr.com/tamayula-hl/735330297365790720/the-boy-who-recognized-beyond-the-fourth) I like it a lot and your message makes me want to draw again about Seb and Omi who have realised the ‘truth’ 💪😏.

Raraa! The idea of collaborating Sanrio characters with HL characters was unexpected, but it would definitely be cute! ✨💕🤭 That cute but grumpy look of Badtz-Maru and Omi should be a good match… I want to doodle about them soon 🤣🤣

I'd like to draw it someday, and I'd also like to draw, for example, how Seb would look at Anne trying on a slightly sexier swimming costume… 😏😏😏

Perhaps you can find my work if you set it up as per the image below 😌

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 6

Summary: Negan gets a proper introduction to Y/N's children, attempting to get to know them. Joel finds out about it and he's not too happy to hear about the time that his children are spending with the man from his past.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Joel Miller, Elizabeth, Peter, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155201419

Warnings: Swearing, angst, bickering, dirty talk, etc.

Notes: Thanks again to those that read the story. This chapter has both boys in it again. I think they are both in most of the chapters from here on out.

“Hello?” Elizabeth’s voice called out when she entered her mother’s home. Instead of just barging in like she had done the night before, Elizabeth wanted to make her presence known. Thankfully when she entered the home she lived at with her mother, the Christmas decorations were lit up alerting her to the fact that her mother was most likely awake. It was morning and something smelled incredible. Moving further into the house, she entered the kitchen to see Negan and her mother making breakfast together laughing. Just seeing the two of them like that had Elizabeth stepping back. With how happy the two of them looked it reminded her of what her parents had been like when she was little. It had been a long time since she saw her mother laugh like that. Negan was behind her mother, his arms reaching around her to help her finish whatever they were cooking. An uneasy breath fell from her throat when Negan stole a quick kiss from her mother. “Mom?”

“Oh hey honey,” Y/N was surprised to see her daughter, turning to face her to show that she was still wearing her pajamas. Negan was in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank top that Elizabeth assumed used to be her father’s that her mother loaned him. She didn’t know how she felt about that. “We were making breakfast for all of us.”

It had been a long time since she had seen her parents making breakfast together like that. Smiling, laughing and working together. It was shocking to see and what was even more mind blowing was how happy her mother looked with Negan. For that small moment she remembered what it was like when she was young with her mom and dad, but it had been a long time since they had been that happy together.

“Hey kiddo,” Negan nodded over toward the kitchen table where scrambled eggs and some fresh fruit were already prepared. “We’re making the sausage gravy right now and the biscuits will be out of the oven in a minute.”

“I didn’t know you could bake and cook,” Elizabeth gazed upon Negan who gave her a cheesy, big smile.

“There are a lot of things that you probably don’t know,” Negan winked, going back to working on what he was doing on the stove. “I like to be a man of mystery sometimes. It keeps things interesting.”

“He says that, but once you get him talking, he won’t shut up,” Y/N teased, reaching out to poke at Negan’s ribs. It had him laughing, arching away from her and Elizabeth was surprised how quickly these two seemed to be at ease with one another. A loud snort fell from Negan which involuntarily made Elizabeth laugh. “See, he’s no heartthrob. He’s just a massive dork.”

“I’m heavily offended,” Negan asserted, placing his hand in over his chest to feign being hurt by the comment. Looking back at Elizabeth again, Negan nodded his head about dramatically. “Actually, your mom is right. I have a big mouth and I talk way too much. I just tried to keep my private life away from the public. No baseball fan wants to hear that their favorite player loves to bake.”

“You’d be surprised,” Elizabeth commented, stepping forward to look at the things that Negan and her mother were working on. “Do you need some help with something?”

“We’re almost done here. Unless you want to grab some juice from the fridge for everyone?” Y/N asked of her daughter, stepping forward to place a quick kiss at her daughter’s temple.  

With a nod, Elizabeth went to grab some glasses. Putting them on the table, she spun on her heel to go for the refrigerator. Stopping, she looked back again hearing Negan humming a song out loud. Watching the two of them together had a lot of mixed emotions flooding through Elizabeth. Elizabeth had only met Negan last night and he was a stranger to her. Just someone she grew up watching on the television. But with her mother? It looked like Negan had known her for a lifetime with how comfortable they were together. Playfully Negan nudged Y/N with his hip and it had her giggling.

Shaking off the feeling that she was experiencing, Elizabeth opened the fridge and grabbed the juice. Closing the door after she pulled it out, she headed back for the table and poured some into each glass. Setting the bottle at the center, she then headed to take a seat for herself.

“Are you okay with me cutting open the biscuits and putting the sausage gravy on top of them?” Negan confirmed with Elizabeth, looking back at her with his big hazel eyes. Quickly she nodded clearing her throat uneasily when he went back to finishing things up.

It seemed like Negan did her plate first and handed it to Y/N to give to her before going back to working on the last two plates. Y/N carried the plate over to the table, scooping some of the scrambled eggs out of the serving bowl that was at the center of the table. And then went to grab two regular pieces of sausage for Elizabeth.

“I don’t mind doing that,” Elizabeth offered, holding her hand out. There was a bit of color in Elizabeth’s face and it made Y/N smile that her daughter was embarrassed.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just used to being your mother and taking care of you,” Y/N lowered the plate down for Elizabeth to finish gathering what she wanted. Pushing the individual bowl of fresh fruit closer to Elizabeth, Y/N also put the other two bowls where her and Negan would be sitting.

“Oh! Don’t forget about the blueberry muffins we made,” Negan snapped his fingers pointing toward the blueberry muffins that were cooling on the counter. It made Elizabeth smile when she realized how big this breakfast was turning out to be.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me,” Elizabeth stated and it made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up when he turned to face them holding his and Y/N’s plates in his hands.

“I was just really hungry,” Negan insisted with another big, cheeky smile moving toward the table to set the plates down. Turning back, he grabbed some of the muffins and set them at the center of the table. “I’ve already eaten two of these and trust me, they are better when they are warm. So I’d have one if I were you.”

Nodding, Elizabeth reached out to grab one of the muffins to set it beside her plate. Noticing the way that Y/N was smiling at Negan when he took his time sitting down still was weird for Elizabeth. It was nice seeing her mother happy, but this was new and this was fast.

Starting off with the muffin, Elizabeth took a bite of it and was pleasantly surprised how good it tasted. Then again, her mother was always a good baker so she wasn’t sure how much of it was Negan and how much of it was Y/N.

Swallowing down her food, Elizabeth looked between Y/N and Negan while she poked at her food, “I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful, but do you mind if I ask the both of you what is going on here?”

“Breakfast?” Negan spoke with a mouthful of one of the blueberry muffins that he had grabbed. Even if she didn’t want to laugh, there was something about the facial expression that Negan had that made her giggle.

“That’s…that’s not what I mean,” Elizabeth tried to hold herself together at how simply put Negan said that. Setting her fork down, Elizabeth knew that this was something that was actually important so she wanted to give the two of them her full attention in this moment. “I mean between the two of you. I only just found out the other day that the two of you were really good friends. And then suddenly Negan Smith is in our home and the two of you look like something out of a romance film.”

That comment had both Negan and Y/N looking to each other. Color flooded into Y/N’s face and a smirk tugged at Negan’s handsome features, “Are the two of you dating?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Y/N looked to Negan who was allowing her to answer the questions since Elizabeth was her daughter. “We just had a date last night and the two of us are enjoying being around each other right now. Negan is only going to be here for the holidays and we…”

“Missed each other,” Negan finished for Y/N with a charming smile that made some color flood into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Hearing them talking about each other like that was pretty hard to comprehend and take in for her. “I understand how this could be uncomfortable for you Liz and if you have any questions about me…or us…I’m willing to answer them.”

“What did you call me?” Elizabeth demanded with Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. Looking to Y/N, Negan seemed to panic before looking back again. “Did you call me Liz?”

“Your mother said you wanted to be called Liz when we were talking about you last night. I just thought…” Negan stuttered, clearing his throat uneasily. By her reaction to him calling her that, he thought that Y/N’s daughter seemed angry. “I’m sorry Elizabeth.”

“No, I’m okay with being called Liz. I’m just surprised you know my name,” Elizabeth liked that someone she had looked up to for so long actually knew who she was. “I don’t mind you calling me Liz. It’s hard for me to think that you know about me.”

“You were one of our biggest topics of discussion last night and this morning. Of course I know your name,” Negan assured her letting out a sigh of relief since he thought he had done something wrong originally. “I mean what I said though. Any questions you have, I’ll answer.”

Pushing her hair back over her shoulder, Elizabeth gave a nod. Dropping her hands down at her sides, she curled her fingers around the edge of the seat and sighed, “Did the two of you have sex?”

Hearing that so bluntly asked had Y/N choking on what she had in her mouth. Instead of being offended, Negan just seemed to laugh at how quickly that was brought up.

“I’m sure he’s okay with you asking questions, but nothing like that,” Y/N pled with her daughter knowing that Elizabeth probably could answer that herself after everything. The truth was that they had slept together multiple times during the night and the morning, but she wasn’t about to tell her daughter that. “Please.”

“Maybe we can keep the questions non-pornographic?” Negan requested, teasing Elizabeth in the moment. A tiny snort fell from him again and the color grew back into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Embarrassment flooded throughout her veins realizing that was probably too much of a question to ask. But Negan did seem rather amused with her bluntness instead of being offended. Elizabeth’s brown eyes seemed to want to avoid meeting his stare now. “You’re still a kid after all.”

“I’m not a kid,” Elizabeth was quick to correct Negan, not wanting to be viewed as a child in the situation. Smirking, Negan gave a nod of his head and Y/N pushed her chair a little away from the table.

“You’re still my child and you’re not eighteen yet,” Y/N reminded her daughter of things, reaching out to extend her hand to place it in over Elizabeth’s. Squeezing softly at her hand, Y/N wanted to show that she supported her daughter but still wanted to stress that she wasn’t an adult yet.

“Then can I ask if you want to date my mom?” Elizabeth looked to Negan again after Y/N pulled her hand away. Reaching for the fork that she had put down, Elizabeth started to poke at the scrambled eggs while Negan chewed. Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up with a muscle flexing at the corner of his jaw. “Like are you calling yourself her boyfriend or something?”

“I don’t think we’ve really talked about that yet,” Negan responded the best way he knew how. “We’re just two people that used to be close and we’re enjoying each other’s company while I’m here.”

“You won’t hurt her?” Elizabeth questioned and she felt like she sounded like a parent right now instead of a teenager who was meeting their celebrity idol.

“I don’t plan to,” Negan stated with a shrug of his shoulders looking to Y/N who was gazing back and forth between the two. “I hurt your mother a long time ago by letting our friendship slip through my fingers and I want to make up for that.”

“So I should expect to see more of you then?” Elizabeth confirmed with Negan. Nodding his head while he swallowed down his food, Negan looked to Y/N for confirmation. “More than just Christmas time?”

“I’d hope so,” Negan took another bite of his breakfast, waving his fork about afterwards. “With my schedule, I’ll do my best. I’d like to get to know her better along with you and your little brother. I should have been here all along to do that.”

“So…does that mean you want to be like our dad now?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to take that. Immediately Negan shook his head.

“No, I don’t ever expect to take the position of your father. I know the two of you have a good relationship with him,” Negan felt odd talking about marriage, dating and all of this when it was just the first night they spent together. Only more so because he didn’t want to rush things. He felt comfortable with Y/N, but he didn’t want to scare her away. “You both sound like awesome kids and I’d just like to get to know you more.”

“Dad told me that mom wanted you to be my godfather,” Elizabeth recalled what Joel had informed her of the other day. Maybe it was stupid to mention it, but after Joel said it, it had been lingering in her mind for days.

“And I wish I would have been around to have that opportunity,” Negan stressed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Looking to Y/N, a large amount of empathy seemed to flood into Negan’s features knowing that was something Y/N wanted. “I would have been so lucky to be your godfather.”

“It would have given me awesome bragging rights,” Elizabeth added eliciting a loud laugh from Negan with her response to it. “Seriously. Could you imagine? Me getting to go around and tell everyone that you were my godfather? People would be so jealous.”

“Who is your godfather?” Negan wondered looking between both Elizabeth and Y/N.

“Uncle Tommy,” Elizabeth was quick to answer, shrugging her shoulders at the idea of it. “It still blows my mind that you were so close to my parents. When my dad said you were best friends, I didn’t believe it. Then he told me you were closer to my mom.”

“Well, your Uncle Tommy is a good man,” Negan conceded, taking another big bite of the food that was on his plate. Waving his fork about, Negan thought back to when they were children. “Your mother was always my best friend. I can’t remember how we met, but we were together all the time. And then your dad and your Uncle Tommy moved to town and they just became part of our group. After your mother knocked out a bully for Tommy, we were pretty much inseparable.”

“Dad told me about that,” Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh and it had Y/N lowering her head to bury it in her hand. “I can’t believe you beat that kid with a hockey stick!”

“Your dad did not tell you that!” Y/N seemed offended, dropping her hand down so fast that it smacked against the table. Warmth flooded into Y/N’s features at the idea that Joel told their daughter about how she attacked someone. Both Elizabeth and Negan were laughing at her response. “I hit him once with the hockey stick just to get him to let go of your Uncle Tommy!”

“It echoed throughout the entire street,” Negan reminded Y/N, setting his fork down for a moment. Acting like he was holding a hockey stick, Negan made a popping sound when he pretended he was hitting someone with it. Groaning out, Y/N dropped her head down into her hand again. “And as soon as he dropped your Uncle Tommy, the fists started swinging.”

“Dad said you beat him so bad that he wouldn’t tell anyone because you were a girl and he was embarrassed,” Elizabeth added to the conversation drawing Y/N to drop back against the seat. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Y/N shook her head slowly. “Dad said he was afraid of you after that.”

“Your mom could kick some serious ass,” Negan alerted Elizabeth evoking a glare from Y/N when she looked to him. Throwing his hands up, he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “I mean it. No one fucked with you because you would whoop their ass. You were a badass.”

“It’s so hard to picture you like that now,” Elizabeth was amused to hear about that side of her mother. “You really had a lot of fire in you, huh?”

“I did,” Y/N admitted, tipping her head from side to side. She never lied to Elizabeth before so she wasn’t going to start now. “I had a problem with people being assholes. Especially since the boy bullying your Uncle Tommy was my age. It pissed me off. If someone was an asshole, I would put them in their place no questions asked. But I don’t condone that behavior now of course.”

“I think it’s cool,” Elizabeth responded with another amused sound. “Knowing you were a badass does make things more interesting.���

“Your Uncle Tommy thought he was the biggest bad ass being part of our group. He was five years younger than me and your dad. And he would get to hang out with people our age. All the kids his age were jealous of him. Or scared I guess,” Negan thought aloud, reaching for another blueberry muffin. “If someone stepped out of line, they would have had to deal with one of the three of us.”

“I wish that wouldn’t have changed,” Elizabeth sighed loudly, entertained at the idea of it but sad in a way that she missed out on that.

“Yeah, me too,” Negan dropped down his hand to place it in over Y/N’s knee. Patting it a few times, Negan squeezed gently and then smiled when Y/N lowered her hand to place hers over his.

“I’m still going to throw some shade at you about stealing those bragging rights away from me,” Elizabeth pushed, almost in a joking tone when she went back to eating.

“What can I do to make up for it?” Negan questioned, pulling his hand out from underneath Y/N’s. Tapping his hands over the top of the table brought Elizabeth’s attention back to him. Stretching out his arms, he threw them up in the air. Elizabeth didn’t know how to respond to that. “What can we do now to give you bragging rights?”

“Careful,” Y/N warned Negan knowing that her daughter might have a field day with what he was asking. Rubbing his hands together, Negan didn’t seem to mind whatever would be thrown his way. He wanted to make a good impression with Elizabeth. He made that very obvious.

“If she wants to show off to her friends somehow, we can do whatever,” Negan allowed that idea to be thrown out there, waving his hand about as he spoke. “I dropped the ball when it came to being her godfather, so if I can make up for it some other way. I’d like to.”

“Bullshit,” Elizabeth stammered causing Negan to laugh out loud. While Elizabeth picked up a lot of her father’s features, the expression she just made reminded Negan so much of Y/N when she was younger.

Truthfully? Looking at Elizabeth also had a shit load of emotions flooding throughout Negan. Back when they were younger, Negan could have never pictured Joel and Y/N having a child together. But, here one of them were. And she really did seem to be a mix of both of her parents. Negan picked up on it so quickly.

“Well, I mean within reason of course,” Negan stressed, biting down at his bottom lip knowing that it was best to throw that out there just in case. Y/N still thought this was brave, but she was waiting for Elizabeth’s response. “You know, to make up for the way things went down.”

“Can I take a selfie with you and post it on my socials?” Elizabeth pushed, a range of excitement flooding into her younger features. Looking to Y/N, Negan wanted her to give him a silent answer to make sure it was okay with her first.

“They aren’t going to show up at our house wanting to do the same, are they?” Y/N inquired seeing her daughter immediately shake her head. Even if they did show up at the house, Elizabeth would assure them that they wouldn’t because she wanted this.

“I mean Lydia might want to meet him, but she’s my best friend so…” Elizabeth stressed looking between the two of them. Getting up from the table, Negan moved around it and knelt down beside Elizabeth. Allowing Elizabeth to take a photo of the two of them, he noticed that she was posting it on something saying she was having breakfast with ‘the’ Negan Smith.

“You’re still such a teenager,” her mother smirked, reaching out to squeeze her hand in over her daughter’s wrist noticing that Elizabeth got a bit embarrassed at how she reacted. Hearing the notifications going off on her daughter’s phone made Y/N look to Negan who gave her a wink. Successfully, Elizabeth got what she wanted. Bragging rights.

Getting up, Negan went back to his seat in attempts to finish his breakfast. Instead of looking at her phone, Elizabeth pushed it forward on the kitchen table and looked between them. There was a sense of pride that ran through Elizabeth after the move she pulled.

“Your mother tells me that you play softball,” Negan changed the subject for a moment after taking a big bite of one of the biscuits that was covered with gravy. “She says you’re really good at it. Did you want to go professional with it?”

“Professional? Probably not,” Elizabeth answered, her eyes falling to her phone that once again buzzed. Y/N felt like her daughter was probably desperate to see who it was but she was trying to act levelheaded in front of Negan. “It’s not the same for women like it is men. But it has been helpful with college. I can still play when I’m in college. Do something I love while also focusing on my education.”

“That’s very smart,” Negan applauded her for her decision, snickering when her phone vibrated again. “We’ll have to throw a ball around one day. See how strong of an arm you got there.”

“That’d be really awesome. I’d like that,” Elizabeth confessed with a huge smile.

This was really something special to Elizabeth and Y/N knew that. This was someone Elizabeth looked up to and he was treating her extremely good. It actually impressed Y/N with how good Negan was being around her daughter. It was their first day back with spending a lot of time together and he was already taking on the job of making her daughter feel comfortable around him. That made Y/N happy and showed that Negan meant what he said about things.

“Does dad know about this?” Elizabeth broke the silence that had fallen upon them for a while so they could eat their breakfast. Even though she was very happy about everything and geeked out, she couldn’t help but let her father linger on her mind.

“Which part?” Y/N didn’t know how to respond because there was a lot going on.

“That the two of you are spending time together?” Elizabeth spoke before going to eat some of the breakfast that they made for her.

“If he didn’t, he sure does now,” Negan pointed toward Elizabeth’s phone, giving a half smirk. “Unless he doesn’t follow your socials.”

“He doesn’t,” Elizabeth was quick to answer Negan with a shake of her head. In fact, it made her smile because one thing about Joel was that he absolutely hated the internet. Social media didn’t make much sense to him and while Joel was good at most things, he wasn’t incredibly good with computers. “He doesn’t really like technology things. He’s not very good at them. Mom is always having to fix his laptop for him because he just doesn’t…get it.”

“Your father knew that I was going on a date with him last night,” Y/N was honest with her daughter wanting to be as open as she could possibly be with her.

“And he was okay with that?” Elizabeth was curious and it had Y/N looking down toward her plate. Poking at her food, Y/N knew that Joel had been on her mind all night, but with Negan here it wasn’t the time or place.

“Baby I love you,” Y/N began, speaking softly so that she didn’t seem to have any anger toward Elizabeth or Joel from the start. “And while I care a lot about your father, whether he’s upset about us spending time together or not is not really something I want to stress about.”

Was she scared about Joel’s reaction to things? Of course. It was something that Y/N had thought about all night after she had slept with Negan the first time. There was no questioning that Joel would be furious with her for sleeping with Negan. Deep down she knew that. All she could do was compare both Joel and Negan all night long. But if she worried about Joel’s response? She was never going to be able to relax.

“Your father dated Tess off and on for years,” Y/N reminded her daughter, not wanting to sound too angry about things. “And not once did someone ask me if I was okay with it because at the end of the day, it wasn’t my place to be angry or accepting of it. It was your father’s life and he was doing what he wanted.”

“You’re right,” Elizabeth had taken a moment to think about what her mother said. There wasn’t much more that she could say really because she was aware just how true that statement was. So she went back to eating.

A moment later Negan nudged Y/N with his arm to get her to look at him. With a nod of encouragement he was letting her know that he thought her answer was a good one. It was nice knowing that Negan had her back to let her know that she didn’t fuck up in that moment. His wink told her that.

“Are you really retiring because of your knee?” Elizabeth stammered after a few moments of silence and it had Negan lifting his head. Arching his eyebrow, Negan’s expression was confused where she was going. “I’ve just seen people talk on the internet about why you were really retiring. You’ve hurt your knee twice. Everyone knows that. But the whole sticking around for another season thing. Does that mean your knee is good enough for you to keep playing?”

“Yeah, I’m retiring because of my knee,” Negan replied, swallowing down hard when his career was brought to the table. “When I hurt my knee the first time I was told that I shouldn’t have gone back. But I did. I loved the game too much. And then I hurt it the second time. I just don’t think I ever felt the same again after that injury. I’m slowing down and I was told that I was going to have to get surgery on my knee again. But I’m putting it off. I wanted to have one last go before I retired officially. I’m getting older anyways and I should stop before I’m no longer good at what I do.”

“Most people play until they suck,” Elizabeth brought up other players hating to hear that his retirement was legit.

“I can’t be that person,” Negan spoke honestly realizing that he had thought about that a lot too. “I don’t want to be forced to quit because I’m so bad. I want to go out while I’m still good at what I do. Where I’m still at the top. Because then I can have a final year where people still love me. I’ve seen some of the much older guys overstay their welcome and instead of being supportive, the fans turn on them. I don’t want that to happen with me.”  

“Can I see your knee?” Elizabeth wondered, her brown eyes getting big with Negan snickering. She was hopping all over the place, but it amused Negan. It was typical for a young kid to be scatter minded when someone they looked up to was around. He was used to this over the years he had been a baseball player meeting fans.

“It’s just a knee,” Y/N chuckled but Elizabeth shrugged. With another smirk, Negan stood up from the table and moved in beside Elizabeth. Bending over, he rolled up the pant leg of the sweatpants. Pretty quickly, she turned in her seat to observe Negan’s knee. You couldn’t miss the scars from Negan’s surgeries but it didn’t look as bad as Negan clearly thought it did.

“I would have killed that guy that purposely did that to you,” Elizabeth snorted with an angered sound, sliding back into her seat. “Everyone knows he did it because you were destroying them. With you on the team, there was no losing. Plowing into your knee from behind? That was such a shitty thing to do. And what did it get him? He’s no longer playing. And you still are. Fucking loser he was.”

“Elizabeth!” Y/N was surprised to hear her daughter talking like that which had Negan amused as he rolled his pants back down over his leg.

“I’m not a child anymore! Plus, that’s what dad said back then too!” Elizabeth defended herself, placing her hand in over the center of her chest. “I learned everything I know from him. We watch sports together all the time. That guy that hurt Negan was a fucking loser. If he wanted to win, he could have done it fair and square instead of going after the best player on the team like that.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Negan began, heading back over to his seat to sit down. “Unfortunately, injuries like mine are the most common for a lot of baseball players. It could have happened to me at any point, but it was sad that another player did that to me purposely.”

“Did you at least punch the guy out?” Elizabeth begged for some kind of answer which had Y/N looking to Negan.

“I wanted to, but my wife did instead,” Negan huffed hearing both the girls laugh. “If you remember that game, it caused a huge fight on the field. The coach on the other team forced that guy to apologize to me as they were loading me into an ambulance. My wife was at the game and when he approached us, she just full on right hooked him. Hit him so hard that she broke his nose and there was blood everywhere.”

“Your…” the smile slowly faded from Elizabeth’s face when she tore her stare away from Negan and to her mother. “Your wife? I forgot that you were married.”

“I was,” Negan stressed his words, reaching for the necklace that he wore to bring it forward to show the wedding rings that were there. Worry had filled Elizabeth at that point because she was obviously nervous that her mother was spending time with a married man. “She passed away a few years ago.”

“That…that makes sense,” Elizabeth frowned, setting her fork down. Guilt started to eat away at her. By the expression over Negan’s face it had upset him some talking about his late wife. “I remember you talking about her all the time when I was little and then you didn’t. That’s probably why…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“You didn’t know,” Negan lowered his necklace back down, outstretching his hand to give Elizabeth’s hand a firm squeeze.

A buzzing filled the air drawing all of their attention to Elizabeth’s phone seeing that it was Peter calling her. Instead of answering, Elizabeth kept eating and there was a certain smirk that was over Elizabeth’s face that said she knew Peter was calling about Negan. The call ended and then Peter started calling her again which had Elizabeth avoiding it once more.

“Elizabeth,” Y/N called out to her daughter seeing that there was amusement across her daughter’s face. “You’re teasing your brother.”

“You know just as much as I do that he’s going to call me a few more times and then he’s going to call you,” Elizabeth suggested pointing at the phone. Peter called one more time before Y/N heard her cell phone ringing on the counter. “See. You better be prepared because once Peter knows that you are here he is going to want to come over here to meet you too. And if you think I talk too much, wait until he is here.”

“I’m okay with that,” Negan gave the go ahead with a nod when Y/N pushed her seat back to go head over to grab her phone. “The only thing I have to do later is go to my mother’s house for dinner. But if the three of you want, you can come with me. My mother loved your mother. So I think she would be excited to see her.”

“You’d let us meet your mother?” Elizabeth seemed shocked that Negan was so willing and open to include them in his life.

“It’s not exactly a good thing,” Negan teased Elizabeth with a wink. “She is my mother after all.”

“Yep. Peter is coming home immediately,” Y/N hung up her phone causing Negan to snort. “He’s desperate to meet you too.”

“I just invited you and the kids to come with me to my mother’s house tonight for dinner,” Negan adjusted Y/N’s chair so she could sit down in it easier. “That’s if you want to.”

“It’s supposed to be Joel’s time with them,” Y/N responded having Elizabeth hush Y/N from speaking any further. “I’m just saying I don’t know how your father would feel with you spending one of his days with us instead of with him.”

“We’ll go to dad’s house after the dinner, but do you really think it would be cool for him to turn away time with my favorite athlete?” Elizabeth desperately wanted to be around Negan more and it was obvious. An amused rumble of a breath fell from Negan’s lips before he went back to eating. “And you know that Peter is going to eat up most of Negan’s time when he gets here.”

“As long as I don’t get in trouble with your father for it?” Y/N rambled on, looking to Negan who gave her a smile. “Then I’m completely okay with it.”

----

Well today did not go how Y/N thought it would. At first it did. Peter came home and he immediately was full of questions for Negan. Peter snacked on some of the cupcakes and muffins that they had made while they all sat together to talk in the living room. Which was really just Elizabeth and Peter asking Negan hundreds of questions that he tried to answer for them. It was mostly about baseball and being famous, but he answered every single one of them. It surprised her how much patience Negan had for them. But she appreciated that he did.

The day went by quickly and before she knew it, it was time for them to go to dinner at Negan’s mother’s home. Even though Negan’s mother was someone she grew up with, she wanted to make a good impression with her. So they all got dressed nicely. Both her and the children. Because Negan didn’t have any clothes at her house, he just put on what he had worn the night before with her for their date.

What was surprising was learning where Negan’s mother lived. She still lived in the childhood home that Negan grew up in. For some reason, she thought that Negan’s mother moved out of that home when Negan’s father passed away. Then again, she really lost all contact with Negan after they stopped being friends. Maybe she publicly ignored things with Negan’s mother to force herself not to care about him anymore.

There were two problems with coming to dinner here. The first? Negan’s childhood home was right next to her parents’ home. The reason Negan and Y/N were so close is because they were neighbors. They were never too far from each other. After Y/N had gotten pregnant with Elizabeth, her parents had kicked her out of their home. They wanted her to get an abortion and she refused. So they wrote her off completely. And that never changed. It had been over eighteen years since she had spoken to either one of her parents. That didn’t mean she didn’t try though in the past. They lived in the same small town after all. There were moments where she saw them and tried to interact with them. Get them to realize that they had grandchildren that could use them in their lives, but they didn’t care. Nothing broke down that wall they put up after they cut her off completely. Elizabeth and Peter never met any of their grandparents. All they ever knew was their parents and Tommy. So being next to her parents’ home? Yeah, that was really uncomfortable and brought back painful memories.

The less painful, but just as uncomfortable thing was that Joel and Tommy’s home was down the street. The reason they were all so close as children was because they lived by each other. Joel’s parents’ home was down the street from them. That was the first home she shared with Joel. They lived their together until they both could afford to move to the home that she lived in now. After they got divorced? That was the home that Joel moved back into with Tommy who was still living there at the time.

A lot of her fears were put to rest when they got here though. Negan’s mother welcomed her with open arms like there was no time gap between. How Negan’s mother treated her back when she was a child was the same way she did now. She was welcoming, friendly and very sweet. The children really seemed to like her and vice versa. Negan’s mother treated Y/N like she was still that girl that lived next door. And she was very doting on both Elizabeth and Peter.

Considering Peter and Elizabeth never had grandparents, they actually seemed to cling to Negan’s mother while they spent time there. It wasn’t often they got attention from others. So they were eating it up. Also, they were both just so incredibly excited to be spending time with Negan. They had to stress that like every five minutes. Which Negan no doubt liked. They always made him laugh and smile. That was nice to see.

During dinner a snowstorm started. One that they weren’t really prepared for. It was a heavy one that the weather channel was reporting as dangerous to be outside in. It would be impossible for her to drive home. And that meant she was stuck here.

And right now? The four of them sat together on the couch in the living room watching Christmas movies together. Negan’s mother had set them all up with desserts before going to bed for the night. Before she made sure Y/N knew that she had set the guest room up for Y/N to stay for the night.

They were two movies in at this point. And surprisingly the children had managed to stay quiet during the movies. Well, that’s what Y/N thought at least. Especially since they had been talking Negan’s head off during the rest of the day.

“I think Peter is drooling on Negan,” Elizabeth finally spoke up, interrupting their silence to draw attention to Peter. Tired himself, Negan looked beside him to gaze at Peter. Peter’s head was resting on Negan’s shoulder, his deep breaths were filling the air. “He is such a child. Eats a ton and then falls right asleep. He’s like a baby.”

“I don’t mind,” Negan snickered, reaching up with his left hand to rub at his tired eyes. “When I was his age I used to pass right out if I was sitting by a warm fire after eating a bunch of treats and a big dinner. So I can’t say I blame him. It’s getting late anyways…”

“Let’s not pretend you wouldn’t like to be sleeping on Negan,” Y/N teased her daughter hearing Elizabeth groan out and cover her face. Negan’s laugh followed and Elizabeth shook her head.

“It’s kind of creepy now. Isn’t it?” Elizabeth eyed over Negan and Y/N who were seated at the middle of the couch holding hands. “If you would have told me the two of you were this close? I would have never let the celebrity crush get so big. Trust me, the crush is slowly leaving.”

“Slowly?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in amusement drawing Y/N’s daughter to grow red. Falling back against the couch, she pulled her legs up against her chest and it made Negan giggle. “It’s okay. I crushed on my mom’s friends when I was younger too.”

“You’re not just her friend,” Elizabeth was quiet in the way she spoke because she didn’t want to draw Peter’s attention to what she knew about Negan with their mom. “So yeah. It’s a little creepy and it will be gone soon. I’m forcing it to go away.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N frowned and Elizabeth held her hand up to stop her mom from going forward.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just try to erase from our minds that I crushed on him,” Elizabeth made a disgusted expression. Negan attempted to hide his laugh and Y/N nudged him with her shoulder. They were having small amounts of fun teasing her about it, but at the same time she actually understood why it would make her daughter uncomfortable. It was a tense situation. “Dad was right. It was weird for me to be crushing on someone his age anyways.”

“It was innocent,” Negan suggested with a shrug of his shoulders trying to not make Elizabeth feel even worse about things.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting their time talking and it made Negan look back over his shoulder. Looking at the time, Negan grumbled under his breath and sighed loudly, “Who could be here this late at night?”

Adjusting Peter, Negan was careful in the way that he moved. He didn’t want to wake Peter up since he seemed to be really out cold. Helping Peter to rest against the arm of the couch instead, Negan didn’t rush it. Watching Negan being so good with her son took Y/N’s breath away. It was nice to see.

Tip toeing toward the door, Negan unlocked it and started to slowly open it up. A moment later the door was pushed open firmly with a huff escaping Negan’s throat. Being pushed aside, Negan stumbled back and grumbled under his breath when he realized who it was, “Please Joel, come in.”

“Joel?” Y/N repeated what Negan said, her heart skipping a beat. Sitting forward on the couch, her eyes grew wide when Joel stepped in beside the couch. His glare locked with hers and it was very obvious by the expression over Joel’s face that he was angry. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Joel scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Back at the door, Negan was closing things up. Tension flooded the room with Joel’s dark eyes locked on Y/N’s as if he was waiting for something from her. A thin layer of snow was covering Joel from the snowstorm that was still undoubtedly going. “It’s my night with the children. So I came to pick them up and walk them home.”

“We were just finishing a movie dad,” Elizabeth acknowledged, nodding toward the television. Side stepping, Joel looked to the television to eye over what was on the screen. A muscle was flexing at Joel’s jaw that had Y/N ill at ease. That was definitely a sign that he was angry. And she wasn’t really sure why. “Do you want to finish it with us?”

“No, I don’t,” Joel felt the warmth of someone moving in behind him and he quickly shifted to allow Negan to move in beside the couch. Looking down, Joel saw that Peter was sleeping heavily and he shook his head. Snapping his fingers, Joel expected it to wake Peter up, but it wasn’t working. “Buddy?”

“Just let him sleep?” Negan recommended, nodding over toward the chair that was in the corner. “I can pull the chair in closer, you can sit with Peter and we can keep watching the movie if you’d like? I can grab you a cup of hot chocolate, let you warm up. My mother made this dessert that Y/N and the kids really liked so I’m sure you’d enjoy it. Maybe after the movie you could wake Peter up and…” the sound of Joel clapping his hands together firmly echoed throughout the room causing Peter’s head to shoot up. The sound had scared him awake and Negan sighed loudly. “Or not.”

“Dad?” Peter’s dark eyes blinked a few times trying to register what was going on. Rubbing at his eyes, Peter yawned and forced himself to sit up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“The snow is really starting to come down. And it’s getting late. I wanted to come get the two of you before it was too dangerous for you to walk home,” Joel explained, outstretching his hand toward Elizabeth. Confusion flooded her young features with Y/N placing her hand in over Elizabeth’s knee. “Come on Ellie, it’s time to go home.”

“Joel. It’s a few houses down. I’m sure they would have been fine,” Y/N couldn’t help but think there was more going on here. Especially with how angrily Joel stormed into the house. “And if it got bad, they could have just stayed in the guest room with me.”

“Why would they do that when they have their own bedrooms just a few houses down?” Joel’s southern drawl grew angrier. Beside Joel, Negan seemed uneasy as he pushed his hands into the pockets of the dark slacks that he was wearing. Narrowing his eyes, Negan kept his stare on Joel while Joel rocked back and forth on his feet. “That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“How did you even know we were here?” Elizabeth blurt out, curious to know what led Joel to coming here in the first place. Silence filled the room until Joel looked to Peter. And in that moment? Everyone else looked to Peter too. Innocently shrugging his shoulders, Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Pete?!”

“He asked what we were doing with mom and I was honest. I told him where we were. I thought it was super cool. I didn’t know I had to be quiet about it,” Peter defended himself throwing both of his hands to his chest. “I just texted him at the end of the last movie.”

“I should have been told to begin with,” Joel interrupted Peter, throwing his hand about. Connecting eyes with Y/N, Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. “Why wasn’t I told where you were going? I think I had the right to know.”

“Because I don’t tell you everything Joel,” Y/N stood up from the couch finding this whole thing to be ridiculous. “Going to Negan’s mother’s house for a dinner so they could meet his mom didn’t seem like such a big deal.”

“I should be able to have a say in who my children spend their time with,” Joel snapped, pointing his finger out at her in a moment of anger.

“Dad?” Peter stood up from the couch hating to see that his parents were angry with each other. It had been a long time since he saw his parents acting like this toward one another. “We’re not babies anymore. We’re teenagers. I hardly tell you who my friends are. I just tell you where I’m going if I’m leaving. We were with mom. Nothing bad was going to happen.”

“And if you wanted us home, we could have just walked home ourselves,” Elizabeth added from where she was still seated on the couch. Right now she didn’t understand why her father was so angry. “It’s really okay.”

“It’s getting dangerous out,” Joel quickly changed his tune, lowering his hand at his side. Clearing his throat, Joel nodded toward the door. “I came here to make sure that the two of you got home safely. I was worried and I didn’t want either of you hurt.”

“Fine,” Elizabeth shrugged, still attempting to understand where all this worry came from. Standing up from the couch, she knew that they weren’t going to be able to finish the film. So before it got any more uneasy, she would just do what Joel wanted. Facing Negan, Elizabeth tried to gather words and it took a minute before she did. “Please thank your mom for us? It was an awesome meal. And it was a lot of fun.”

“Of course,” Negan gave a wink noticing that things got strange as soon as Joel entered the home. “I promise you she feels the same way.”

Back stepping, Negan pointed toward an area and gave a weak smile, “Let me go grab your jackets.”

“We’ll come with you,” Peter announced, waving Elizabeth beside him so they could follow Negan to the closet.

Watching Negan with his children, Joel grunted when Negan grabbed Elizabeth’s jacket. Holding it out for her, Negan helped her get the jacket on before doing the same with Peter. Both of them seemed lost in saying goodbye to Negan.

“You really should have told me this is what you were doing,” Joel whispered so that only she could hear him. “You didn’t tell me for a reason. And I think that’s shady. If I would have known…”

“You would have flipped out,” Y/N finished for him, her eyebrows bouncing up. Joel’s lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he just grumbled something under his breath. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she shook her head and couldn’t believe he came in guns blazing. “Just like you are now. You might want to cool it Rambo.”

Licking his lips, Joel’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t seem too happy with her, “They just wanted to spend some time getting to know Negan. I thought it was innocent, so, I let them. You know Negan and you know his mother. His mother was always amazing with us when we were younger. So don’t pretend like this home was somewhere dangerous for them to be.”

“Right,” Joel’s expression softened, his head nodding when he forced himself to look away from her. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Do you want me to grab some of the dessert that my mother made so you can take some home with you?” Negan’s voice interrupted the two of them, disappointing Joel with his presence.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I eat enough sweets as it is,” Joel began and it looked like he was considering something. “Y’know, I think it’s going to be dangerous driving home tonight. How about you come with us? You can stay in the spare room.”

“My mother already set up the guest room here for her,” Negan informed Joel, moving in beside Y/N with a loud exhale. “I won’t let her drive home. She’ll be safe here. I promise.”

“I’m sure here she will be safe, but at my home, she will be with her family,” Joel attempted to assert his dominance in the moment. Instead of having an impact on Negan, it just made Negan smile. “And I think we’re all safer together.”

“I’ll be right down the street if something happens,” Y/N replied back, reaching out to grab a hold of Joel’s arm to get him to back down. Considering how loud Joel was breathing, it was making it pretty obvious to the children that it was getting awkward between all of them.

“Joel, do you think we can talk for a minute?” Negan requested pointing between both him and Joel. The expression over Joel’s face looked like an immediate fuck no, but when he looked to the children Joel’s features softened. Joel nodded and Negan gave a weak smile to Peter and Elizabeth. “You should go get some of the sweets that my mother made regardless of what your dad said. Christmas time is the best time to allow yourself to eat like a king. Let your dad have some of the dessert. I know my mother would be upset if I didn’t get you to do that. Take your time.”

Pressing his hand in over Joel’s shoulder had Joel pulling out from underneath Negan’s grasp as they headed for the door. Negan wasn’t wearing his suit jacket or his coat when he walked out into the heavy snow with Joel. They moved away from the door and onto the sidewalk with Joel turning on his heel to face Negan. Even though it was later, it was lighter outside with how much snow was falling. A few inches had fallen already and Negan could feel the chill all around him.

“What do you want Negan?” Joel’s hands fell to his hips where he waited to find out why Negan brought them outside to talk in the first place.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know?” Negan reasoned with Joel referring to the anger and tension that Joel was visibly feeling toward him. “The two of us were good friends too when we were younger. I’d like for us to have a friendship again if you’re willing.”

A long, uncomfortable pause surrounded them. Laughing apprehensively, Negan reached up to rub at the side of his face, “I’m willing to forgive you for what you did. This anger? Whatever this is? There is no need for it. I let go of the past. I don’t know where all this hostility for me is coming from.”

“You’re willing to forgive me? Forgive me for what?” Joel snapped, his face scrunching up in anger. Curling his fists at his side, Joel seemed disgusted with Negan. Tipping his head to the side, Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced up and he smiled uncomfortably. “I did nothing wrong.”

Standing his ground, Joel stepped forward and even though he was smaller than Negan he was doing his best to be intimidating.

“We both know that’s not the case,” Negan scoffed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when he was referring to something that Joel obviously knew he was talking about. Making sure that it was only the two of them outside, Negan nodded his head about and sighed. “But like I said, I’m willing to forgive and forget it.”

“Are you? Since you’re the one that brought it up?” Joel sneered, shrinking the distance between them. It had a tiny smirk tugging at Negan’s lips and his eyes narrowed. “I reckon if you forgave me, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I was mentioning it because that’s clearly why you’re acting like this,” Negan attempted to reason with Joel, not liking how things were already starting off between them. A slight shove from Joel was felt at the center of Negan’s chest causing him to step back. Lowering his head, an amused sigh escaped Negan’s throat. “Okay Joel. Or you can blatantly hate me if that makes you feel better. I’d really prefer us to be friends. But I’m assuming that’s not something you’re interested in?”

“I know what you’re doing,” Joel warned Negan, stepping forward to shove Negan again, but this time it barely had Negan moving since he was prepared for it. “You’re doing this because of what I did. I can see right through you.”

“Can you? Because from where I’m standing you sound a little nuts Joel,” Negan threw his hand up in the air, shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything out of malicious intent. I didn’t come back to town with some kind of plan to fuck with you. I just came here wanting to see my mother and take a break from what I was used to. Then I ran into Y/N and we just clicked.”

“Of course you fucking did,” Joel snarled rolling his eyes and scoffing out loud. It infuriated him when it felt like there was a small inkling of hope between him and Y/N before Negan suddenly showed up. “You’re fucking with my family.”

“I’m really not,” Negan stressed gazing back over his shoulder at the front door that was partially opened. “Believe it or not Joel, I actually really like your family. And as I told you earlier, I would really like it if you and I could attempt to be friends again in some fashion.”

“You’re so full of shit it hurts,” Joel claimed with a hiss which had disappointment flooding Negan’s face. In that moment it seemed like the snow started to fall harder around them. “I’m not going to give you my blessing or decide that I’m okay with this because I’m not. I’m not okay with this Negan.”

“Well, that’s not really your decision to make,” Negan exhaled loudly, shrugging his shoulders. A fire was growing inside of Joel with the response that Negan gave him. Even though they were outside in the freezing snow, Joel felt like his body was ready to explode with how angry he was. “I’m sorry you want it to be like this.”

Turning on his heel, Negan stopped when Joel called out to him, “I do have to reiterate that I did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have to apologize for what happened. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t take it back.”

“I wouldn’t want you to take it back,” Negan brushed off what Joel was saying, giving another small shake of his head. “What happened? It was meant to happen. And I firmly believe that. You were meant to have your children. They are great kids. I really do believe that what was meant to happen, did. But what you did in the past? Well that just proved what a fucking asshole you really could be.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re man of the year,” Joel threw that out there getting disgusted with the way that Negan was talking about things. “I’m sure your wife was always happy, right?”

“Excuse me?” Negan muttered, turning on his heel with Joel’s eyebrows tightening up. That was the first moment that Joel saw any real anger coming out of Negan. The mention of Negan’s wife was something that obviously bothered him. “What do you know about my wife?”

“You’d be surprised,” Joel responded looking beyond Negan when the children started to move out of the house. It had Joel’s posture straightening up and he moved forward, slamming his shoulder into Negan’s who let out a grunt.

“Thanks for letting us come over Negan,” Elizabeth spoke loud enough to draw Negan’s attention to her. Even though things had gotten stressful, Negan tried to force those feelings away. Turning on his heel, Negan gave a wink. Rubbing his hands together, he attempted to warm his hands up. “I’m sorry about the…weirdness of everything.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle kiddo,” Negan promised her with a weak smile, holding his hand out into a fist. Flashing her a big cheesy smile had Elizabeth smiling in return as she knuckle bumped him. In the background Negan could see that Joel was rolling his eyes, but Negan didn’t address it. Peter swiftly moved forward in beside Elizabeth holding his fist up as well for Negan to knuckle bump him. “And Peter. My dude, we’ll have to play some video games sometime.”

“I would die,” Peter emphasized his words eliciting a deep rumble of a laugh from Negan. “That would be awesome.”

“You’re awesome,” Negan rustled Peter’s dark hair before stepping back allowing Y/N to say goodbye to her children.

Outstretching his hand after Y/N was done hugging their children Joel hooked his fingers with Elizabeth’s and then grabbed Peter’s hand with the other. Moving to the door, Y/N watched as Joel back stepped with their children.

“The offer is still on the table. We have a place for you if you want it for the night,” Joel called out to Y/N, hoping to appeal to her somehow. “I’m sure it will feel more like home than this.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N stepped outside, moving in beside Negan who looked both confused and angry with Joel. Taking a second to look them over, Joel shook his head and then started moving down the driveway with the children. They took their time walking to Joel’s house while Y/N reached up to stroke her fingers over the bottom of Negan’s neck. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing,” Negan lied, his long eyelashes fluttering when he looked to Y/N with a shake of his head. After being out in the cold, Negan felt a chill flooding his body and he stepped forward to wrap Y/N up in his arms to give her a hug. “I’m sorry if how Joel is toward me makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m kind of used to Joel being grumpy toward everyone,” she half laughed burying her nose against the side of Negan’s neck. Hearing the sound of a car, she lifted her head up and felt her heart skip a beat. Next door, she caught sight of her parents pulling into the driveway. Stepping away from Negan, she felt a sense of optimism. It was Christmas time and it had been a very long time. By the way they were dressed, Y/N could tell that they had likely been to a party of some kind and were just getting back home. Moving forward, she was hoping to catch her parents’ eye and when she reached a certain spot, she did. Holding her hand up to wave once her mother caught sight of her, Y/N tried to offer up a smile. There was some kind of hope that was lingering there longing for something positive to happen. She should have known better. Immediately, a scowl tugged at her mother’s features when she realized it was Y/N waving to her. It was like a kick to the gut when her father stepped in beside her mother. His reaction time was even faster than her mother’s. Any hope that she had of rekindling a relationship with her parents flew right out the door as quickly as it had entered her mind. With a nudge, her father motioned her mother to move for the door. Neither one of them acknowledged her existence other than that expression of utter disgust. When her mother got to the door, she had looked back at Y/N once more. There was nothing soft in the expression. It was absolute loathing that she could see and it made her chest ache. After they made it inside their home, a pained sound escaped her lips. “Well that hurt more than I thought it would.”

“Fuck them! Do you want me to go say something?” Negan offered, stepping in beside her when she lowered her head and felt embarrassed for even trying.  When Negan had left, obviously, Y/N’s parents weren’t like that. So he couldn’t fathom why they would even act like this to begin with. The people he knew seemed to be very loving and caring. Sure, they wanted the best for their daughter, but kicking her out and shunning her completely from their lives? That was probably his biggest shock. “I can. You know I don’t mind putting people in their fucking places.”

“Don’t,” she placed her hand in over the center of Negan’s back hearing him sigh loudly because he wanted to do something. There was nothing he could do that would change their minds. They would just get angry with Negan and who knows what they were capable of these days. “They made up their minds a long time ago that they wanted nothing to do with me or their grandchildren. It just hurts. Every once in a while I get that reminder and it stings just as much as the day they threw me out.”

“I don’t get it,” Negan stated with a rumble, turning on his heel to look down at Y/N. “They have grandchildren that they want nothing to do with. Why?”

“They didn’t agree with me keeping Elizabeth. Peter they want nothing to do with by default,” she educated Negan on the past, her throat tensing up when she thought about the day her parents lectured her about her decision to keep Elizabeth. “They thought I was ruining both my life and Joel’s. I was the embarrassment for them getting pregnant when I did. I thought they’d break once they saw their grandchildren, but they never did. It’s just hard seeing them around town and having them pretend I’m some kind of stranger.”

“Fuck them,” Negan scoffed, reaching out to grab her shoulders to give them a supportive squeeze. “You’re already a better parent than they were. And you didn’t need them helping you for you to get that way. Your children love you. They will never have to want for anything because both you and Joel made sure that you were present in their lives.”

Instead of speaking, she reached up to place her hand in over Negan’s that was on her left shoulder. Hooking her fingers with his, she knew she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t sad. There was a soft pull at her shoulder with Negan leading her toward the house. Closing everything up, Negan turned off the tv and put out the fire in the fireplace. Moving upstairs, Negan took her toward his bedroom and it made her smile when she entered it.

“This is like it was when we were young,” she mused stepping away from Negan to look around the room. Gazing at all the posters on the wall made her chuckle because she couldn’t believe that Negan’s mother kept it the same after this long. The bookshelves were lined with trophies and she found herself in awe. Stopping, she couldn’t help but notice the few shelves that had photos lined up. Reaching for one of them, a smile spread out over her face. It was a photo of the two of them before they were even teenagers together. They were hugging each other and the young version of Negan was giving the biggest, cheesiest smile ever. “You’ve always been a ham.”

“I worked on that smile my whole life,” Negan stammered drawing her attention back to him. Standing at his dresser, Negan was shirtless starting to change for the night. Doing the same smile that he was in the photo had her laughing out. Negan could always make her laugh. That was something that she was thankful for. Setting that photo down, she reached for another that was the two of them together as teens. How she had been so stupid to things back then swirled through her mind. It made sense to her why Negan ghosted her completely when they were young. Hearing Negan going through things behind her, she set that photo down and then reached for the photo of a teenage Lucille that was on another one of the shelves. “Hey?”

“Yeah?” she swiftly set the photo down and turned on her heel to see Negan was holding out a t-shirt and some sweatpants for her. “Careful. When you give me your clothes, I tend to take them. I have a history of it.”

“If it makes you happy, I don’t care,” Negan chuckled working his slacks off and adjusting the waistband of his boxer briefs. Awe filled his body when she turned to face him and started taking off her clothes. A wolfish smile expanded over his handsome features when he took a seat on the edge of his desk. “I feel like I’m having flashbacks.”

“You still look at me like you did then,” she announced stepping out of the dress that she was wearing standing before him in just her bra and panties. Setting aside the clothes he gave her, she moved in before him and traced her fingers down over the center of his chest having him tremor beneath her touch. “Maybe this is our sign to do what we never could before.”

“Have sex in my bedroom?” Negan snickered having her head tip from side to side considering the whole thing. “No dad to come in and lecture us. Although, I don’t have any condoms again.”

“That didn’t seem to be a problem yesterday,” she noted tracing her fingers over the tattoo that covered his pectoral muscle. A shuddering breath escaped his parted lips with his long eyelashes fluttering to a close with her touching him.

“While I want to,” Negan lifted his hand, his fingers curling around her wrist. Sweeping his fingers over her pulse point, Negan shook his head. Bringing her hand up, he deposited a kiss over the center of her palm. “You’re sad. You’re hiding it. What you need isn’t sex. That’s only a temporary fix.”

“You can’t fix my sad Negan,” she pointed out having him frown at her counter statement. “I can’t expect anyone to change the pain that I’ve felt for almost two decades. You’re my angel, but no one is capable of that. You’ve already made me happier in the last day than I have felt in a long time. I can’t expect you to carry the weight of my woes on your shoulders.”

“I know, but I would be an asshole to take advantage of how you are feeling about your parents,” Negan stepped forward to caress his hands up over her sides. The roughness of his fingertips traced over her flesh and he nuzzled his nose in against hers. “Cuddle with me tonight? Then in the morning if you’re feeling frisky still, we can take a shower together and sneak one in.”

“You’re sticking to your guns, huh?” she breathed out slowly having Negan smirk and nod his head once. “Alright then.”

Stepping away from Negan, she pulled both the shirt and sweatpants on. By the time she turned back to Negan he was laying stretched out on the bed in a pair of pajama pants and an old band t-shirt. Patting beside him on the bed, Negan beckoned her to come lay with him. Moving across the room, she laid next to him and let out an amused breath looking up at the ceiling. There was an array of paintings that Negan had done up there of a space scene when he was younger that they always used to stare at.

“I’m surprised she kept it the same way,” she breathed out lowering her hand to hook her fingers with Negan’s. “I’m sure my parents threw everything out the moment they kicked me out. Yet your mother, she kept everything the same.”

“My mother is great. And that makes me feel bad sometimes. I couldn’t get the fuck away from my father fast enough,” Negan reminded her letting out a long sigh. Negan also had a complicated relationship with his father and she knew that. “I think this was her way of keeping me with her. It’s pretty sweet. Plus it’s nice to come back here to see who I used to be. Where I came from.”

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday,” she turned on her side, resting her head over the center of Negan’s chest. Cuddling her head in closer to him, she felt his arm hooking around her shoulders pulling her close. “It’d be nice to go back and take everything in. Relax.”

A loud exhale fell from Negan before he pressed a kiss against her temple, “I always thought there was a problem with me. Everyone got sick of me after a while. It scares me with Elizabeth and Peter. I worry that they will be like everyone else.”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Negan denied with a huff, but she lifted her head to give him a tense expression. “There isn’t.”

“My parents threw me away when I was seventeen. You left. Joel got sick of me,” she listed off what she knew to be true having Negan frown. These feelings weren’t something that she just came up with. Ideas of being the problem had been flooding her mind since she was sixteen years old. “There has to be something wrong with me, right?”

“I left because…” Negan swallowed down, his Adam’s apple bouncing in this throat. “It’s complicated, but there was never anything wrong with you. If anything, you were too good. And that makes it easy for people to treat you badly. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about with your children.”

“They love their father more,” she admitted closing her eyes enjoying the way that Negan stroked his fingers through her hair.

“I did too when I was younger,” Negan reminded her, swallowing down hard thinking about his past. At the beginning of his life, Negan admired his father. A lot. His dad was the man he looked up to the most. And he was blind to how amazing his mother was. When he hit his teens, Negan had started to realize how often his father would let him down and hurt him. So he understood how she was feeling, but he knew that within time, he himself had realized his mother was the better parent all along. “It took me growing up and seeing how things were that it was my mother the whole time that was there for me. Loving me. Caring about me. I just was so desperate for his attention that I never saw that she was there the whole time for me. Sometimes it takes growing up to see who the better parent is. Now I’m not saying Joel is a bad father, but I can see how much you love your children. You like talking about them.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized with a long sigh, but he was quick to hush her. “I know talking about them is what I do the most.”

“I like it,” Negan claimed with a snort, squeezing her in closer to him. “Your self-esteem has been shit on by the world. I think it’s time we work on that because you’re fucking amazing. And you deserve to feel that way. We’re gonna work on that together with my time here. Because I know what you’re capable of and you shouldn’t let people make you feel this way.”

Tipping her head back, she stared up at Negan and sighed. Right now she wished that was a possibility, but after everything she had been through? She wasn’t sure that was obtainable.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[thefinalwitness]

this is SUCH A FUN QUESTION HECK.

so, in character, l'aiha realizes it sometime between getting y'shtola back from the aetherial sea the first time she casts flow, and when she's mortally wounded by zenos in rhalgr's reach. that second experience of "losing her" really clicks it firmly into l'aiha's head that oh, oh no, she's in love with this woman.

i had been CONSIDERING IT for about as long as l'aiha as a character had existed, but i wasn't sold on it until all the way into shadowbringers. for me, y'shtola has a very obvious *shift* in the way she talks to the wol after you reunite in rak'tika, where she's a little friendlier in her own way. i noticed a LARGE uptick in banter moments with her, the kind i only used to really notice when she was talking to people she was very close with: lyse, thancred, urianger, y'mhitra...

but in shadowbringers she starts doing a lot more of that with the wol, and to me, this reads as her having realized, in the three years since she's seen the wol, that she cares about them perhaps more than she realized! it reads as her opening up the way she has with other friends and loved ones, because she's realized you're on that caliber with her now. it's super endearing to me, and that's why the whole second half of 5.0 was kinda the "oh" moment for me; it feels like the moment y'shtola herself has a bit of an "oh" moment, regardless of if you read that platonically or romantically! :')

fellow wol x npc shippers- If applicable, what was the "oh" moment for you and your oc falling for their love interest? Was yours seperate from your WoL's?

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face (Pt.4) | Home

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: after eight months, you and Tara are closer than ever. Her playful texts pull you away from a project, and you spend the night cuddling, reassuring her you're not going anywhere.

word count: 981

a/n: hi guys this is literally so short bc I didn't want to ruin it + I'm already working on another part for who hurt you. this can read as a oneshot by itself hence the extra title; anyways I hope u guys like it, any feedback is appreciated and I'm proud of myself for figuring out how to do this collage thing below xoxo

It’s been 8 months since you and Tara went on your first date and started dating; since then, you’ve shared countless memories, learned more about each other than you ever expected, and your bond only has deepened, making you both excited to see what the future holds together. There’s been a mix of growth, fun and intimate moments; and although there’s a few challenges, there’s always playfulness and banter in the relationship. 

Tonight, you’re focused on finishing your project, eager to submit it at least a day before the deadline so you won’t have to rush and send in poor quality work. But then, a ping on your phone distracts you.

Tara <3

can you come over? i miss you and I’m bored

Sent at 11.45pm

You

sorry babe, I can’t. i have a project due in a few days

Sent at 11.47pm

Tara <3

guess i’ll just sit in bed..alone,cold

all by myself

w nobody to cuddle with. allll alone

You

oh shut up I’m putting my shoes on

Sent at 11.55pm

This usual banter happens often. Honestly, you didn’t mind how clingy Tara is, you knew what the younger Carpenter has been through. She decided to let you know about her past after a month of dating, with what happened to her and the core four a year ago; and you comforted her with cuddles and kisses with soft whispers for being brave and having to go through all of that.

It’s almost midnight, but the way Tara’s playful messages cut through the tranquil night, it’s hard not to smile. You know her well enough to recognize when she’s pretending to be dramatic—and when she’s genuinely feeling a little lonely or vulnerable.The little banter between the two of you has become a ritual, a comfort. But beneath it all, there’s that deep understanding of each other’s lives, pasts, and fears. You know Tara’s history, and you know she’s been through a lot. You could never understand how anyone would willingly put her in harms way. A single glance from her could make you melt into a puddle, as if the weight of the world disappeared in the softness of her eyes, leaving you both grounded and utterly undone at the same time.

 You know that when you get to her place, all the tension in your body will melt away. As you head out, a small part of you can’t help but reflect on how far you’ve both come in just eight months—how much you’ve both grown together. Every little moment, where you can simply drop everything and be there for each other, makes all the difference.

Tara’s got a special place in your heart, and tonight, it’s all about making her feel seen, heard, and loved. For so long, the idea of "home" felt like a distant concept, something that belonged to a life you couldn’t fully reclaim after your parents passed. You thought you’d never feel settled again, that kind of deep connection, the feeling of being truly seen and understood. But with Tara, it’s different. It’s effortless, the way she makes you feel both grounded and free. Her presence fills spaces in your heart you didn’t know were empty.

As you may your way to her place, a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s funny how simply being with her, in her space, cuddling under the blankets, or sharing small moments of laughter, feels more like home than anything else ever has. When you knock on her door, she’s already standing there, as if she already felt your presence from a block away; wrapped in a blanket, her hair falling messily around her face, and that familiar twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You’re late,” she teases, her voice a soft mixture of playfulness and a hint of relief. Ever since you both got together, Tara’s been more anxious, fearing that Ghostface might pop out and take you from her. She’s expressed her concerns to you, and you’ve made sure to constantly remind her that you aren’t going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere, Tara— you’re stuck with me, no matter what.” Besides, you don’t mind constantly texting her and sending pictures of whatever you’re up to.

“Lay with me? Please?” You fold almost instantly, allowing her to pull you into her bedroom while making sure to keep quiet, since Sam is asleep. Just as you settle onto her bed beside her, Tara does her little grabby hands and you pull her against you, her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head and smiling into your shoulder, inhaling your scent as she had always associated you with safety. You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand before leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Tara’s eyes fluttered at the gesture, and you can feel your heart soar at how adorable she is.

“I love you, so, so much. Did you know that?” You whispered close to her forehead. The warmth of your whisper sent a gentle shiver down her spine. “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you say it again, and again..” You chuckled softly at her statement.

“I don’t mind it either, because I’ll keep saying it; every day if I have to” You smiled softly, the words lingering between you.

Before you could say more, she pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle—the familiar taste of strawberry from her lip balm making you sigh in content. The kiss was warm, comforting, like coming home. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, a shy smile tugging at her corner of her lips. “I love you more,” she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.

It was safe to say that you didn’t manage to finish your project anytime soon. But with Tara in your arms, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

--------------------

a/n: i hope this is enough for ya'll bc i literally couldn't figure out a way to continue without it being too draggy and boring. fyi 'who hurt you' pt 2 should be coming out in 2 days hopefully idk AND idk how this taglist thing works so lmk if you'd be interested in it

taglist: @bella423

[artificiallita]

i got bit by the butch wolverine bug and trust me im in lov w her BUT have we considered futch deadpool???

(headcanons and upcoming fic snippets under the cut)

working on a big silly fanfic about this hot mess boinking logan in the odyssey. here’s some headcanons while the story finishes cooking.

- so. kept her first name as wade. i’ve seen a few alt names floating around for f!deadpool (big love for the winnies, winonas, and wandas of the ladypool extended universe) but genderfuck ‘not rlly a name’ just fits my vision for her. her parents were weird idk.

- deadpool is a woman in all variants except one in my personal headcanon. he is called dudepool. also her corresponding nicepool is male gaze-ified pre-mutation wade. she’s bleach blonde and her suit has a titty window.

- ex special forces turned mercenary whose life shit the bed when she was diagnosed with cancer. tried to be proactive about it long enough to get a mastectomy, then found out said cancer was pretty much everywhere else, and we know the story from there. since this predates her healing factor, she’s permanently single-boobed. has padding in her suit to even her out since it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, wears big t-shirts and ignores it in her civilian life.

- bisexual disaster zone. spent many years in a very happy and deeply perverted relationship with a male stripper named van carlysle, until that went down the toilet. a solid 70% of the casual sex she has is with women.

- dresses like the shitshow nightmare we know and love, loves an awful t shirt and a pair of crocs. put little to no effort into her appearance pre-mutation and that hasn’t really changed, had a brief phase of screwing around with makeup and wigs and then decided it was basically - to use a line of internal monologue from the pending fic - rolling a turd in glitter.

- speaking of, has a real complex about the changes to the way people perceive her post-mutation, namely that they seem to find her super fucking irritating and odd in a way that they very much Didn’t when she was still conventionally hot. between her military background and the general company she keeps, she’s quite often the only woman in her circles, and has always been a dysfunctional mess of adhd and unfiltered word-vomit, but that was generally read as mpdg ‘cool girl’ behaviour prior to her transformation, and now people seem to just think she’s a lunatic. less ‘oh god im hideous’, although she *absolutely* has those moments too, more ‘oh god everyone i know has thought i was a weird pain in the ass this entire time and only tolerated me because they wanted to fuck me’

- wears a lot of poorly applied eyeliner and purposely sleeps in it because she thinks it looks cool. it does not.

- had absolutely zero plans to snitch to cassandra about johnny’s rant, right up until the ‘bald hell’ line. she took that shit personally (almost definitely didn’t need to but whatever. i support women’s wrongs.)

and some snippets from the fic, all of which are me wade objectifying logan. technically spoilers but also what else did anyone expect

[yayll]

heyyy! I just read ur rockstar!Dazai fic and it honestly reminded me of this idea I had!!! (loved the fic btw!) Are you able to write an actor!dazai x fem!actor reader and they r fake dating while secretly being rivals ?? (I’d like 2 be known as 🦎-anon!)

hiiii 🦎 anon hehe

i'm sorry this was quite the wait, i LOVED your idea and i wanted to write it properly and i kind of took some liberties so i hope you enjoy it regardless? thank you for trusting me w your fic idea actor!dazai now haunts me actually dazai in any like, imagine just fucks my shit up that man is a menace in any story i put him in and i'm so glad others agree. i love u baby mwah u get so many ivy kisses

~ a little something about you and actor!Dazai keeping up appearances ~

"You're choking meee!"

"I'm just fixing your tie, Osamu-"

"It's babe, actually."

"It's whatever I want if you want me to keep holding your hand in public, jerk."

He pouts at this. What a cute little meanie you were! Always scolding him and spewing empty threats as if you were hot shit. You were hot shit, and that was only the beginning of his problems... The biggest one right now being backstage with you while attending the hottest awards show of the year.

Just before he can respond, the curtains are drawn and it's a stagehand whisking you two away to present the next award infront of thousands of fans. You're walking side by side, your heels clicking with each step when Dazai leans in to whisper something.

"You should stand on my left, my right side is more attractive."

"We're both facing forward, does it matter?"

He raises a brow and huffs dramatically in typical Dazai fashion. You two had been 'dating' for a year now, everyone was invested in this blooming romance ever since you both started in that drama together, now it's nothing but red hearts for you two.

It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened... It also wasn't completely awful, but it was the goddamn ego on Dazai that really made you want to strangle him sometimes. He knew he was pretty and desired, and what a threat you were with such an iconic streak in all of your latest projects. No wonder you two had to be paired together, on your own you were both dynamite. An unstable formula that needed to be stabilized by combining it together. Thought could that make it worse?

You present the award holding hands the entire time, an act highly encouraged by the need to convince, and yet when it's you two doing it it never feels as forced as you'd like it to be. There is a comfortability in the role of this relationship, you've come to realize yet supress. You'll hold hands for so long you begin to get clammy, and it's certainly not because he dotes on you almost every time he speaks! Which he hates doing... It's just a script, after all. Duh.

You're both making your way out of the venue towards the car that awaits to drive you to the after party when you're ambushed by interviewers and hundreds of flashes that yell out speed questions.

"Does the beautiful couple have time to stop and answer a few things for us tonight!"

Dazai loves that shit. Of course he has the time, he doesn't care if you don't. He has to sell it, obviously, since you don't put in the effort according to him. He flashes the interviewer that sardonic little smirk you hate and speaks innocently.

"Why, us? Sure! Right, honey?"

He turns to you and the crowd loves it. You hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes and simply smile, holding yourself high with grace and a ton of media training.

"We'd love to."

The interviewer is overjoyed as she looks between you and Dazai, taking in that affection that radiates from your false words. She grins as she goes along to ask her question.

"So, I think a lot of the fans are wondering..."

You and Dazai perk up, not even realizing that you're clutching the bottom of your dress so tighty that your knuckles are white. The interviewer looks directly at you.

"The two of you have been the most stunning couple the industry has seen in a while. Any plans for the future?"

You freeze. Ugh, not this again. You shake your head, smirking to yourself at the absurdity of the concept alone.

"Thank you, but honestly we're just taking things day by day. There's no rush between us, we have all we need right here and now."

The journalist smiles again and nods, seemingly impressed by your laid back attitude. Dazai snorts and suddenly interjects, clearly having a cheeky response to give to the crowd of journalists.

"We'll have tons of kids in the future, actually~"

Your panic is so instant that you literally laugh out loud, yet recover quickly by turning your shock into a playful glance at your lover. You manage a more sweet giggle and smack him on the chest a little harder than people would guess.

"Ooh, he's joking, of course."

The journalist rejoices, finding your banter and your overall interaction as a couple cute. The ideal power couple! Dazai grins and turns to you again, leaning in to tease you, his narrowed Hazelnut eyes piercing into you like a promise.

"Not joking. One day we're going to have a massive pack of little kids running around. And it's going to be your fault for being sooo cute~"

And with that, he leans in all the way into a million dollar kiss on your confused and parted lips. You're taken so offguard you almost fall back and of course grab onto him a little tighter... and run your fingers through his disheveled hair you forgot to nag him to cut... As the cameras go off like crazy, you wonder if it's worth ruining your public image for a while just so you can slap him harder than you ever have before.

Everyone's cooing and you're fuming, so you settle for a quick thank you and goodbye as you drag Dazai off the red carpet and into the car. He's giggling the entire time, of course. As soon as the door shuts out the screaming fans watching you drive off, you turn to Dazai and whisper ardently.

"What was that all about?! We didn't discuss this prior to-"

"... You liked it."

"Huh?"

"You liked it when I kissed you."

You scoff, though it sounds like you're choking.

"I did not. I just did what I had-"

"... And you want to have my babies. That's adorable, how devoted of you!"

You smack him on the arm but he's smiling like a cat who's had too much catnip, too far gone into his delusions to care about the repercussions. Love is love, after all...

"I think we should break up, like officially. You're nuts. The press won't let that go, Osamu."

He perks up, snapping out of his stasis and crinkles his nose in disapproval. He shakes his head, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Dazai mutters, barely above a whisper.

"... We won't actually break up, though."

"And why not?"

"Because in about 60 seconds we're going to kiss again and you'll be clinging onto me the entire night."

You snort into a laugh, tilting your head in disbelief. The car slowly comes to a halt as you arrive at the after party where a familiar roar of the crowd awaits to greet you once more. You begin your futile argument yet again.

"I don't see why I would do that."

At such a silly reply, Dazai softens his voice, looking at you like he first did when you both met on set a year ago. A lifetime ago. You're so cute when you're playing dumb. He shrugs, carefree.

"Neither do I, which is why I want to know too. I want to know what you're thinking about, if it's me."

You hate the way he sounds so sincere, like a real boyfriend would if he were trying to convince you you're just as into him as he is into you. Mind games is what it is, or at least you hope so. You really hope so.

You sigh, suddenly over the conversation as you open the car door to begin climbing out. Dazai follows suit and the roar of the crowd makes your chest feel tight as overstimulation takes over. You want to be anywhere but here and you wonder if you're having some sort of panic attack, but it just doesn't feel describable.

You turn wildly, disoriented by the camera flashes and instant fuss of the press, only to be faced by your one and only savior: the omnipotent Osamu Dazai. You don't know what it is about him in that moment, you just glide into his arms and complete the prophecy as you hook your arm with his, taking deep breaths as you finally ground yourself. It feels like the right kind of wrong, and you don't care to question it.

You feel a squeeze and a soft velvety voice whisper to you once again, you don't even have to look at him to know he's as smug as ever. But amongst the teasing, there's affection there too...

"So, am I?"

"Are you what, Osamu?"

"On your mind."

"At this point you're practically a permanent resident."

You hear him hum, a smile still present on his lips, the world simply frozen for him to continue his private conversation with you in public.

"Hmm, remind me to have you repeat that to me later."

This causes you to squeeze his arm back and murmur in genuine curiosity, finally daring to face him. He's already looking right at you, so devilish and angelic at the same time that you can't even look away.

"Why?"

"Because your time's up. 60 seconds, remember? Now come and kiss me already, the camera's are waiting~"

The photos of you two that night were the envy of couples everywhere. If only they knew how the ride back to the hotel went, it would be a scandal! Or simply the next step in your future?

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[prettyboykatsuki]

later, then | i. rin

✮ tags ; gn!reader, pre-relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, rin in his actor era, assisstant!reader. this is sfw but i am an 18+ blog so minors do not follow me lol.

✮ wc ; 1.4k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @rabbbitseason that i had to rewrite a couple of times. i rlly liked being able to write something like this. i hope u like the direction i ended up going in sdjksdj

✮ synopsis ; on his last day of filming rin tried to keep you out of his thoughts.

"Rin-kun,"

He knows your voice well enough to know it's you before he even opens his eyes. "Hn,"

"We'll be shooting your scenes next," You say, tapping his shoulder lightly. "They told me to wake you up."

It's not like Rin to fall asleep on a set somewhere, no matter how tired he is. He's usually the type to push through it no matter what. It's petty, but it feels like he's lost otherwise.

He was exhausted before hand though. Months of shooting and he still can't get used to his schedule.

He's here from a morning flight from France that he took all the way back home to Japan. After he arrived, he immediately hailed a cab and busted ass to get here on time. He would normally rest on his journey but found he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.

Professor Heartbreak is a Japanese TV drama (airing domestically lived and internationally on Netflix) and Rin's first acting role. The series follows a romance between a graduate student caught in a lot of debt and her relationship to one of her pupils, college student and heir to mega corporation.

Rin has never had any interest in acting, and had even less interest in acting in a romance drama. His manager however urged (read: forced) him to take the offer, emphasizing how good it would be for his public image among other things. Of course, Rin still declined but no matter what he did - he couldn't actually seem to get out of doing it.

He's off-season now though he started filming during. He can say with confidence there's nothing he likes about the job. No matter how much his manager or director insists that all he needs is to have a pretty face - there's still a level of annoying obligation he feels towards doing it.

The reception was more positive then they were expecting. Apparently Rin is a half-decent actor. He's not playing a character he feels is so different from him, if not much more cringe.

Rin plays the love interest Yukio. Not very expressive and rich with a tendency to chase what he wants. Generally aggressive about the female love interest.

It doesn't suit him and he doubts he'll do it again. But a lot went into getting the role. If he's going to do it at all, he might as well do it well.

Rin hates shit that's half-assed after all, lukewarm acting doesn't suit him.

Today is the last day of shooting and happens to be one of the last scenes. Shooting is sometimes chronological, but not always. Regardless, after today it'll be the last time Rin steps foot on this set. No more long nights, or trying to memorize lines, no more out of place press runs. The practice season will start again and he can go back to the busy he's been used to since the debut of his soccer career.

That also means it'll be the last time you and Rin spend time in the same room. It's the first thing he thinks of when you wake him.

Rin sits up and carefully rubs his eye, careful not to disturb the makeup he wears for set.

"When the fuck did I sleep?"

You laugh under your breath, handing him a water bottle like you already knew he would want one. He takes it from you and takes a long drink trying to wake himself up.

"Been a little over an hour. Hour and a half, maybe. Did you sleep okay?"

He scowls, just slightly. "It was fine."

"I'm glad you slept well," You add, voice full of mirth and amusement as you read between the lines said all too easily.

He was moody when he came on set with you, worse then normal and refused to sleep. You suggested he rest his eyes and Rin scoffed at you for thinking he's so stupid. He's not a kid you can trick into going to sleepy.

You conceded easily, made a single sly comment about hoping he's all there when it's his turn. It'd be a shame if he had to keep shooting the same scene and ended up home late after all. Enough of a provocation to submit to your stupid suggestion.

Rin supposes this was why his manager hired you in the first place. You're in a temporary position, your contract to be in place until filming is over and Rin's back on normal scheduling. Rin realized pretty early on that you're more like a glorified babysitter then an assistant which is why he didn't have very pleasant expectations of you at the start.

But you're competent. Push without pushing too far. Clever even when it's annoying. You've known each other for a year and the only thing that binds you is work but you're with him all the time. Maybe it's just the job, but it still feels like you know him better then most.

Not like he cares.

Realizing he was tired enough to sleep and goading him into doing it are two separate things though. But you've managed both pretty easily which he can admit is a feat. You're always like that. You remind him a little of another annoying striker in that way.

A quiet settles between you. Rin gropes around for his phone, checking his messages and the time. Still a few hours until the set wraps and no doubt social obligations afterwards. He groans.

"I'm going home after we're done shooting,"

"You can't," You say, apologetic. "Manager says you have to show your face during the after party."

"That doesn't make any fucking sense."

"You're the main male love interest, you should at least drop in for a little bit. Have a beer, unwind."

"I don't like drinking,"

"A soda then. Don't be so stubborn."

Rin huffs, carefully pushing a hand through his hair careful not to mess up the styling. There's a beat of silence.

"Are you going?"

"To the drinking party?"

Rin looks at you as if to ask isn't it obvious. You just chuckle.

"Why?" You tease. "Will you stay longer if I go?"

Rin pauses. And it's quiet for just a second too long before he realizes. You seem to understand the implication almost instantly.

Even before Rin who catches himself just a second too late.

"...I don't mind staying with you until you've filled your quota. If that's what you're asking." You supply.

Rin frowns, faint warmth creeping his neck. "Then do that."

You fight back a smile. "Sure, sure. What time were you thinking of leaving?"

"As soon as possible," He says bluntly. You laugh that time. Brightly. Sincerely.

"Seems like a waste. You can handle fifteen minutes without me, right? Doesn't feel like I need to go if we're gonna part ways so soon anyhow."

Rin pouts. A petulant, ugly feeling in him. He speaks without thinking. "You're saying it like we're never gonna see each other again,"

You both catch it.

"Are we?" You're grinning at him where you stand next to him, eyes cast down to look at his face. He fights off a blush but fails to keep from turning red. Fuck. "Seeing each other again, I mean."

He doesn't know what it is exactly that makes him answer the way he does.. "No shit."

You grin, beam really - and your fingers brush his hand on the couch. Rin jolts, clearly in deeper than he thought.

"Okay. Then let's go together and get something to eat after," You say, coy. "Since we're seeing each other again,"

Rin rubs a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Shut up. Fine. Whatever,"

You laugh again no longer hiding it. He hands his water bottle to you as he gets called onto set. Standing to his feet, he takes a breather to stretch out all his limbs.

You give him a mischievous smile, staring at him openly when something seems to strike you. Like you've just realized something.

"Rin-kun. Bend down a little. I need to tell you something."

Confused but not concerned, he complies without thinking.

You place your copy of the script strategically to obscure both your faces, and in a single split second - Rin feels something soft and warm press against his cheek followed by another giggle like a bell chime. He flusters, instantly scowling and tomato-faced and nearly cussing as you look so self-satisfied.

(Warm. So warm where you linger on his skin. Hot where you've touched him despite how brief.)

"For good luck. I'll see you later then. Knock 'em dead, okay?"

He curses under his breath before they call him one more time and he watches you disappear to go do the other half of your job. He puts his hand to his cheek and takes a breath.

Stupid. He closes his eyes and buries the explosion of feeling in him as he replies to no one in particular.

"Idiot."

[violetasteracademic]

Rambling thoughts post. Won't delete.

I learned a long time ago to stop commenting on the state of the ship war/ SJM fandom as a whole and asking people to be kinder, and anyone who has followed me for a while (which sounds silly to say since I've only been here since March) has likely witnessed my slow disillusionment of the SJM fandom space. As my therapist said, if you keep trying to clean up debris in someone's house who refuses to fix their roof, you'll drain yourself for nothing. (That was about my ex husband but hey I think it applies here.) I've also realized that in the long run, individual creators don't matter, really. There are too many creators in this space who burn out and disappear and even if it upsets or disappoints people in the moment, there is always someone to replace them. I'm very replaceable. My thoughts really don't matter. But here they are anyway.

The SJM tumblr space is extremely hostile and negative. But it isn't all hostile and negative, and the more I filter out the shipwar content and anti content (seriously, I have filters on anti elriel, anti gwynriel, anti elucien, and shipwar buzzwords like delusional, reading comprehension, touch grass, ECT and thank you to my dear friend @yourstarsmyscars for showing me how much more the filters can do than I realized!) the more free I am to see how many kind and wonderful creators there are on here making cute art and amazing fanfics and nourishing a positive fandom ecosystem.

Again, I don't matter in the long run. I'm not sure how many people even still follow me really since I've stopped engaging in the shipwars beyond art, fics, and kind posts. But I do want to let anyone out there who, like me, has had their tolerance for the ship wars plummet to the core of the earth, break through the crust in the middle of the Pacific ocean, and then drift into space, know that there IS kindness in this fandom beyond the noise. There are people doing great work on all sides, who are welcoming to all, and just trying to create something people will enjoy.

I can't say I'll be here forever, or even much longer. But I feel moved to signal boost the positivity. I also know that, although I do believe I tried very hard to be positive and not insulting the majority of the time, I had days that I let the negativity get to me and I was snarkier than I wish I would have been. I'm truly sorry if I ever made a post that even remotely hurt anyone's feelings or added to the negativity. I'd go back and delete them, but frankly they are my most popular posts and still get reblogged so it feels sort of pointless since reblogs don't get deleted.

Although I am an Elriel in my heart of hearts, I want to continue to be a welcoming space for all. If that means my followers get cut in half or only a few people interact with my posts, that's okay with me. I can't try to patch the roof of the fandom, but I can keep my own space toasty and warm for anyone looking for reprieve, regardless of who you ship. I've stated multiple times here that I'm the only Elriel in my IRL friendships, and I love my friends dearly. I tried to speak to Tumblr as a whole the way I'd speak to them, and I didn't always do that. But the world is too abysmal and scary and a lot of SJM fans come online and struggle to find a space that isn't extremely hostile and negative.

Here's to all the goofy little spooks making art, fics, texts, and transcending the shipwars and just trying to connect over the things we love.

In the words of our Lord and Savior Taylor Swift, I want to be defined by the things I love, not the things I hate.

Also still committed to writing a banger Elain Lucien and Azriel throuple once I get through my laundry list of current fics. Maybe a quadruple with Gwyn. Maybe I'll just write a giant orgy, actually.

[raginglesbian2006]

Ne Me Quitte Pas

Alastor x angel!reader

Chapter 4: Stardust

Chapter warnings: Alastor being Alastor

When our love was new, and each kiss an inspiration.

But that was long ago, and now my consolation

Is in the stardust of a song.

Masterlist

Time seemed to stop for Alastor.

Those bright, beautiful eyes he had fallen in love with in the mortal world, turned to look at him, acknowledging his presence.

His ever-present smile wavered a bit, just until those eyes turned away from him to look at Lucifer.

Despite Charlie’s cries for help and Lucifer’s aggressive disapproval, all he heard was silence. His glowing red eyes bore into the back of his beloved’s head.

You’d gone to heaven, of course you did and he knew that for a long time. He had scoured the ends of hell for your presence but found none who held even a shred of your likeness. He was relieved at first, knowing you would be spared from his violence, knowing you would be safe.

But it wasn’t long before he felt a sense of longing, desperation, and want to have you with him. He knew that if he played his cards right, his powers would help him grow stronger. He would be strong enough to bring you back to him.

 Even if it meant he had to rip out those striking wings of yours.

Those very wings that blocked his vision now.

He let out a static sigh, ordering his dead heart to calm down as he approached the party.

“Now, now, Your Majesty,” he started, letting his hand act as a barrier between the two of you. It is rather uncouth for royalty like you to act in such a brazen way.”

His eyes shifted to yours, holding your skeptical gaze. He could feel not a smidge of recognition deep within those irises.

His stance faltered for a fraction of a second before his grin widened as he turned to the king of hell who was still seething.

“Why not give this angel a chance to explain themselves, hm? Unless you’re incapable of behaving like an adult, let alone a king?” Alastor jeered.

Hearing this, Lucifer turned his blood-red eyes to Alastor, gritting his teeth and speaking, “And I think you should behave like the easily disposable subject you are.”

Charlie, feeling a murderous staring contest begin between the two, intervened.

“Dad, this angel has come to give our hotel their blessings,” she explained, moving over to you, “And they have proof from Sera! Right?”

Her nervous eyes shifted to you, begging you to try to quell this disharmony.

“Your daughter speaks the truth, Lucifer Morningstar,” you said, summoning the scroll into your hands and holding it out for him.

Lucifer snatched the scroll to read it himself, his eyes moving over every word. Alastor leaned over to look through it as well. As soon as he reached the end, he let out a guffaw.

“Oh, this is hilarious!” Alastor exclaimed, wiping away a fake tear, “The High Seraphim pitying us helpless demons?”

Alastor let out a dramatic sigh, holding a fist over his chest, “Oh how…,” his static faded, only to grow louder as you felt his presence nearing you, “....delightful.” 

With a tap, your cane transformed into your weapon. You pointed the sword right at his neck.

All eyes were on the two of you and silence grew, save for the quiet static that prevailed.

“You have a lot of guts trying to intimidate an angel,” you spoke, shifting your gaze to meet his, “especially since you’ve,” your eyes trailed down to his dress coat, “met one already.”

Alastor’s eye twitched as he shifted back with uncertainty. His ever-present grin straining as he tried to compose himself.

“And I don’t think that encounter went quite well for you,” You continued, your gaze piercing his soul.

He had never seen you like this before. Your eyes had always been one of his favorite things about you, having always held so much love whenever they looked at him.

But now, those very eyes he’d adored were holding him down in place, watching him like a predator stalks their prey. 

Before he could lose any more of his composure, your eyes turned to find Lucifer’s.

“Your Majesty,” you started, snapping your fingers to get rid of the scroll held in his hands, “As you can see, I am here by the order of the High Seraphim. She sees potential in this establishment and I do too.”

Lucifer’s stature was still guarded, but his demonic form had calmed down a bit, his horns having disappeared completely and his eyes slowly returning to their normal state. 

He stole a look at his daughter, her pleading eyes softening his resolve.

Letting out a sudden laugh, he walked up to you and pulled you down by your collar, making sure you were at eye level with him. 

“If you try to hurt my daughter,” he glared, “I’ll drag you down to a place worse than hell myself…permanently.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Your Majesty,” you said, cooly.

With a huff, he let go of you, rolling his shoulders back. He met Charlie’s gaze with a tired smile. She returned it with warmth, an unspoken understanding resonating between them.

“So,” Charlie looked at you with a gigantic grin, “When do we get started?”

You tilted your head, “I’m sorry?”

“Gosh! I have so many ideas to work with! I’ll show you my charts! There’s this excellent daily schedule I’ve planned for the guests, sin-free of course-”

“Hun,” Vaggie interrupted, “Maybe we should…help them settle first?” 

Charlie gasped, “Right!”

She grabbed you by your arm with a giddy disposition, “I have just the right room for you! Let’s go!”

Vaggie and Lucifer followed her as she dragged you upstairs, watching you like a hawk.

The rest of the hotel residents stood there in silence, before Niffty spoke out excitedly, “I like them.” She then hopped away happily with her broom, searching for her next pest victims. 

“I’m…. gonna go head out for a while, see ya later Angie!” Cherri said as she walked out of the hotel.

Angel Dust and Husk looked at each other, not sure what to make of the situation. A sudden and loud crackle of static alarmed the two of them.

 They turned to see Alastor seething, his smile morphing into a sickly grin. They followed his line of sight to the newly arrived angel who bore a soft smile as they patiently listened to Charlie’s excited ramblings, disappearing into the long halls with Lucifer and Vaggie in tow.

A pop sounded behind them as they watched Alastor fizzle away into the shadows.

“What’s the deal with ‘im?” Angel asked Husk, who merely shrugged, too tired and drunk to care.

You looked around the room Charlie had brought you to. It was quite spacious, decked out with a comfortable queen-sized bed, a few tasteful decorations, and a balcony overlooking the Pride ring. 

“The washroom’s right there and we serve 3 meals a day- the food and accommodations are all free, of course!” Charlie explained.

“The bar is open…whenever Husk feels like it, to be honest,” she admitted sheepishly, “but he’s a guest too so…”

Charlie trailed off, looking around.

“You….don’t have your luggage?” she pointed out.

“Oh! I do,” you said as you snapped your fingers twice. Your suitcases, numerous books, and everything else popped into existence, covering almost every inch of the dark red carpeted floor.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer looked dumbfounded.

“I..umm..may have packed a bit too much…” you said with an awkward smile.

Charlie regained her composure, “Don’t worry, take your time unpacking and settling in! We’ll just be out of your way!”

She dragged her father and girlfriend along with her, shutting the door behind her.

“Well that was something,” Vaggie started.

“I can’t believe an actual not fallen angel is in our hotel!” Charlie exclaimed, jumping on her hooves in the hallway.

“I still don’t know how to feel about this, Charlie,” Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand, “Heaven, listening to us for once? Hah! As if.”

“Dad…,” Charlie placed a hand on her father’s shoulder, “If we don’t give Heaven a chance, we’d be bigger hypocrites than Heaven themselves!”

“Guess there’s no helping it,” Lucifer smiled, holding his hand over his daughter’s, “I won’t be able to be with you all the time though, still have official stuff I gotta handle from the castle.”

He turned to his daughter’s girlfriend.

“Maggie,”

“Vaggie-”

“Can I trust you to take care of my girl when I’m not in the hotel?” 

“I’ll protect her even when you’re here, Your Majesty,” Vaggie stated, “I’m not gonna let an angel of all beings harm her.”

“Awww, you guysss,” Charlie beamed as she hugged the two, “I appreciate all that but I can take care of myself too!”

“No doubt about that, dear,” Lucifer smiled, reaching up to ruffle her hair.

“C’mon, let’s give them time to unpack,” Charlie giggled, gesturing to the room of the new arrival, “And let’s give ourselves time to unpack…this situation.”

As soon as they were about to take a step, you popped your head out of the room with a smile.

“All done!”

The three looked back with wide eyes.

“Already?” Vaggie exclaimed, “ It's been like what…a minute?”

“Ah well…. angelic magic can go a long way,” you said, “I took the liberty to make a few tweaks to the room if you don’t mind.”

Charlie, growing curious, walked up to the room, “Of course, as long as…”

Her voice trailed off and her jaw dropped. 

The room had been completely transformed. Soft blue replaced the red hues that once decorated the walls. White drapes surrounded the bed canopy and the windows. A few potted plants were placed where it best suited them, and all your necessities were neatly arranged in their appropriate places. 

But the most drastic change of them all was the seemingly infinitely extending ceiling enveloped in a fitting angelic aura.

“Oh, don’t worry about the ceiling, it won’t disturb the rooms above this one,” you pointed out, watching Charlie shake her head in disbelief, “I just needed some space to stretch my wings.”

Vaggie and Lucifer stood behind Charlie shortly after, their mouths gaping like the princess.

“You’ve settled in already,” Lucifer chimed.

You sheepishly shrugged in reply. 

It wasn’t long before you had to bid them goodbye as they left you to your devices. 

You sighed and plopped yourself down on the bed. You opened the bedside drawer and took out a jewelry box. 

Opening it, you could see all the little trinkets Molly had made for you, the few golden cranes that Oliver had forged as a gift for you. You smiled, wondering what the two were up to right now in heaven.

Your emotions took a somber turn when your fingers felt the cool looped metal hidden beneath everything else. Holding it up, your eyes found the red ruby seated in the center of the ring.

The ring you’d come to heaven with. The ring, as St. Peter had described, was a parting gift from someone who loved you.

Someone….who loved you.

You wondered if you would find them someday—the person who gave you this ring. Surely they must’ve made it to heaven? Or perhaps condemned to hell?

Are they still here? Have they been thinking of you?

Do…do they still love you?

All those questions plagued your mind ever since you entered the gates of heaven. And they have never left you in peace.

Putting it back safely within the confines of the box, you slid the drawer close, turning your attention to your other prized possession. 

A radio. 

You’d made it so that it could play music with or without a station nearby. Although it took several attempts for you to get it right, on top of making sure you did not damage the gizmo, you knew it was worth all the hassle.

Something had drawn you to it when you first saw it sitting on the shop shelf collecting dust. Call it love at first sight, if you will.

You turned the dial, smiling when music played through. It was a song about love- a reminiscent memory of it.

Sometimes I wonder, how I spend

The lonely nights

Dreaming of a song

The melody 

Haunts my reverie

You lay down on the bed, letting your wings rest on either side of you. You feel a lone feather float down towards your face. You reach out to catch hold of it, right before it landed on you. 

And I am once again with you

When our love was new 

And each kiss an inspiration

You twirl the feather in between your fingers as your mind wanders.

.

.

.

You must find them -the person who loved you.

But that was long ago

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song.

You must.

A/N: Sorry for the late updates. Trying my best to juggle my academics with writing. I can't promise regular updates, at least not until I get into med school but I'll try my best to not keep ya'll waiting. Thank you for reading!

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