#and i wish we would strive for a little more here

[dandp]

The thing about preshow questions is I really can't be mad at obvious repeat questions (ex. watering the plants) because for sure there may be more casual fans there and those make sense as a funny question to ask by someone who's not as closely following the fandom, and I can't be mad at the people who always ask the like "what's your favorite thing about this city/the tour/etc." kind of questions because while I know they'll be annoying and just say "hehe all of you and this moment right now" other people wouldn't know that and they'd theoretically be good questions on their own. however. the people who are trying so aggressively hard to be funny. even more so when it's clear they have been following previous shows (ex. the will you wear wigs askers). THAT drives me up the fucking wall.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Baby, Mine

Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot

Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.

Bonus Chapter/Part 2

Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination

“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”

“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.

Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.

“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.

“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”

There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.

“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”

And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.

So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.

Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.

As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.

She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.

Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”

“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”

Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”

“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”

She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“

“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”

Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,

“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”

He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”

She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”

And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”

Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”

At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.

A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”

“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”

She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.

The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.

Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.

Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.

Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.

Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.

But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.

As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.

Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.

He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.

“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.

A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.

As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”

He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”

Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”

“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”

“He doesn’t deserve her.”

Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”

“At the Town House.”

Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”

Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.

“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”

“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”

Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,

“Secrets”

“Secrets”

He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.

“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”

Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.

“Easy brother.”

Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.

“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.

“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”

Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”

Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.

Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”

“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”

“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.

Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”

She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.

“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”

Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.

“She kicked for the first time the other day.”

Rhys raised a brow.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”

Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.

“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“

Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.

“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”

Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”

“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”

As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”

Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”

“Okay, quieter than usual.”

Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”

“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”

She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.

Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.

She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”

Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”

She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”

“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.

“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”

Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”

She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”

A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”

Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.

Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”

And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.

It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.

The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.

“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.

“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”

Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”

Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”

He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”

————————-

“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.

“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”

“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”

“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”

“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”

“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”

“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”

“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.

Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”

“Are you ready for this?” He asked.

“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.

Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”

She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”

“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.

She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”

“I know better than to go against your intuition.”

With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”

As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”

She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”

As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.

The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.

Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”

Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.

She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.

“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.

Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.

“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”

An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.

“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”

Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.

“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”

The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.

Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”

“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”

Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”

“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.

“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”

Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”

Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”

Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.

“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.

Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”

She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.

“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”

She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.

The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”

Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.

Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”

Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.

————————-

Epilogue

Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.

He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.

Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”

Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”

Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”

The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”

Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”

Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”

Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[cosmerelists]

If Other Stormlight Characters Served as the King's Wit

As requested by anon. :)

"The King's Wit" is there to insult people in the king's stead. In this role, Hoid basically gets to stand at the entrance to feasts and make fun of people. It's a good gig for him. But what if other characters had this job?

1. The Stormfather

Stormfather (rumbling with displeasure): You have broken an oath today. Stormfather: You promised your son that you would play "Shattered Plains" with him this afternoon, but you did not. Stormfather: Though you feast for today, my storm winds shall one day scatter your dishonored bones. Elhokar (visibly sweating): Ha ha my new Wit sure is, ah, intense!

2. Kaladin

Kaladin: Ew. Another Lighteyes... Kaladin: Sniff, sniff! Smells like the exploitation of the powerless in here! Kaladin: I can name a dozen men better than you and guess what--they're ALL darkeyed. Kaladin: Nice outfit--did it come free with your ancestral privilege?  Elhokar (muttering to himself): I will not put him in jail again, I will not put him in jail again, I will not...

3. Shallan

Shallan: [sketching] Hapless Lighteyed guest: Is that...me? Shallan: It is! [shows Ideal Self portrait--it's the same person, only their sadness and distrust is gone and they shine with an earnest and honest light, looking out toward their future] Hapless Lighteyed Guest (visibly tearing up): I...It's beautiful. Shallan: Please, go ahead & take it! Elhokar: Shallan-Wit, why is everyone at my feast introspective and crying? Shallan: I'm really good at art.

4. Adolin

Adolin: Wow! You are so brave to put those colors together, and in a style from two years ago ago! Adolin: You are almost pulling it off. 

5. Dalinar

Dalinar: Hello. I could not help but overhear your heated argument, my friends. Dalinar: It reminds me of a tale from the Way of Kings, which I will now quote from memory... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Aaaaand, they fled. Dalinar: That's the third time that's happened this evening.

6. Ialai

Ialai: [hands hapless lighteyed guest a folded-up sheet of paper] Hapless Lighteyed Guest: W-Where did you get this information about me? And my husband? And my...former boyfriend's sister's cousin? Ialai: [merely smiles] Hapless Lighteyed Guest: W-What do you want? Please! I'll do anything! Ialai: Why...nothing at all. Yet. Please enjoy the feast.

7. Lift

Lift: Mmmm....4. Lift: A solid 6! Lift: Perhaps a 5, but ONLY because of those pants. Lift: Wow! An 8! Wyndle: P-Please mistress, I don't think the job of the King's Wit is to rank the butts of all attendees! Lift: They need to know.

8. Jasnah

Hapless Lighteyed Guest: Ugh, I don't think it's right for the king to employ a heretic as his Wit! Jasnah: It's strange--one might think that your faith in the Almighty would inspire you to strive to be a good man, yet in reality your mother weeps each and every night to have produced a son who loves drinking and gambling more than he loves his children, his wife, or indeed the Almighty. Jasnah: Should you wish to inspire faith in others, perhaps you should try to demonstrate even the smallest reason why yours has produced an iota of good for anyone in this world aside from yourself. Elhokar (across the room, watching): I...am afraid.

9. Lopen

Lopen: Hey, I know you! I got a cousin in your army! Lopen: He always laughs 'bout how weird it is that your officers make the men pay for their own boots 'n' stuff 'cause it's an army not a charity, right? But then your officer son gets an allowance which is funny 'cause that kinda seems like the 'charity' thing that an army isn't! Lopen: We Herdazians tend to use a word to mean a thing, yeah? But you Alethi sure like to make a word mean whatever it is you want!

10. Szeth & Nightblood

Nightblood: Evil. Evil. Evil. Definitely evil. Big evil! Little evil, but still evil. Szeth: You've identified every guest so far as evil, sword-nimi. Nightbood: Yeah, I'm so good at detecting evil! So when does the slaying start? Szeth: I told you. I don't murder entire parties anymore. That is my past, but it does not have to be my future. Nightblood: But you're the King's Wit! You got wit-tle down the evil, right? Szeth: That is not what that means, sword-nimi. Nightblood: ... Szeth: ... Nightblood: People sure do speed up when they have to walk past us, huh? Szeth: I am pretty sure that means we're doing a good job.

[freakassfemme]

MWAH wishing u a speedy recovery!!!!! listen u always do my requests sm justice YOU JUST GET IT, i will always crawl back into ur askbox i am patiently waiting while kicking my feet :3

original ask YOU ARE SO SWEET! I appreciate you. here u go, i have brought you a gift <3 unfortunately my only explanation to 'getting it' is that I am always having or striving to have filthy nasty lesbian and queer interactions. or I am writing or reading about it. my sole purpose on this earth is to curate queer experiences. hope that helps <3 btw I wrote this from 6 - 9 am so bare with me wc: 2.9k warnings: metaphorically consuming each other as a form of desire, yeah I know I switched present/past tense its a bad habit of mine but I *don't care* nor do I care about consistent capitalization, I'm crazy for this woman obviously, rough sex, f/f, vagina/breast anatomy, biting, overstimulation, crying, maybe I get a little too poetic about gay sex, proof read by only me one singular time and it was mainly to see if the music fit the vibe, penetration, scissoring, I love pussy, orgasm denial x1 (?), slight size kink and worship but really that's in all my fics

see how it shines [smut] ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ

playlist: it will come back / be / abstract (psychopomp)

(yeah we r bringing hozier into this </3)

eighteen fucking hours. that's how long you'd been clocked in at the medical bay for what seemed to have been maybe the third or fourth time this week, and it was only Thursday.

the truth was, medics and doctors were dropping like flies these days, going AWOL and leaving the remaining staff to work what would need twenty sets of hands with maybe seven or eight. with the seraphites becoming more aggressive everyday, the peace in the stadium and other bases for the WLF had been short-lived, and many understandably weren't holding up well to the pressure, especially with the way the cleanup crews had been hauling back nonstop truckloads of friends and loved ones, and requests to be stationed elsewhere other than the stadium and two were immediately denied at this point.

so yeah, you were pretty fucking tired. at this point in the staffing shortage, they were having to send the folks on watch on additional rounds just to bring food to medics, on duty or at home, because they were simply too exhausted to go down to dining.

no one even acknowledged you as your blood and mud-ridden boots skidded across the concrete floors, your eyes practically closed even as you walked through crowds to get back to your dorm. the soldiers, civilians and staff alike parted like water around you, making an avoidant path and trying not too hard to look at you or the posters on the wall, outright begging people to sign up for medical classes.

you kicked the food delivery box inside of your dorm as you unlocked it, hands fumbling with your forehead pressed against the cold metal. inside, you quickly stripped out of your uniform top and boots, and crashed out on the couch.

abby herself was exhausted when she trudged into your shared living space hours after you, having just come off of a 48 hour rotation. her eyes wandered over the little trail of belongings leading to you on the couch, the boots left a few steps after the other, your button up discarded over the railing and the abandoned delivery box just a few feet from the door, which she didn't notice until she nearly slipped over it, causing a loud thump that had her wincing.

her eyes flicked to you, where she could only see the back of your head, and when she decided you weren't going to stir, she let out a sigh of relief and began stripping herself of her own uniform.

on her way over to the bathroom, she stopped next to you, taking in your splayed out form. your hair was a fucking mess, and you still had drops of (hopefully) someone else's blood across your forearms, one thrown against the back of the couch and the other hanging over the side. your pants were halfway undone, like you had tried an attempt that you decided wasn't worth the energy, and you looked pale as a ghost.

as much as abby wanted to let you sleep, wanted to let you get the rest you needed, she couldn't leave you like this. it'd been at least three days since she last saw you for more than a fleeting lunch break, and she couldn't find it in her to take care of herself and not you, especially when you had been eating away at yourself providing the undying care to strangers who wouldn't want to return it even in several lifetimes.

she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before she nodded, crouching down and grunting from the soreness of her own body as she scooped you up.

when you groaned and gave a small shove back, she hushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"c'mon, sweet girl, it's just me. i got you."

you hadn't put up much of a fight when abby propped you up on the sink. you leaned the back of your head against the mirror as she shimmied your pants and socks off of you, stripping your shirt and undergarments next until your cold skin was left against the glass and stainless steel, and you began to shudder. abby was quick about turning up the hot water in the shower though, allowing the steam fill the room before she helped you to your feet, letting you lean against her and whisper weak protests as you climbed into the hot shower.

instantly, you relaxed against her, and she ran her fingers through your hair, fully saturating the dirty strands as you sighed, wrapping your arms around her firm waist to steady yourself.

you stayed like that for a while, pressed against your girlfriend's tone form as you slowly collected your own strength, letting her gentle hands and soft voice lull you back from your weak state until you could help her wash you both up, even if it took a bit longer than usual.

"lean your head forward f'me, angel," abby murmured, one of her large palms warming up your spine with gentle caresses as she held a half-formed braid of your hair in the other. you obeyed quietly, letting abby tie back your now managed hair into something similar to how she usually kept hers, though she left her own loose.

when she was done, abby shifted closer behind you in the bed, her arms slipping underneath your borrowed shirt to hold you against her. she buried her face into your neck, letting you curl into her until you were turned on your side and entirely wrapped in her strong arms.

her nose nudged yours, and your eyes weakly fluttered open to meet abby's soft gaze, her seafoam eyes almost hauntingly bright against the cool illumination of the moonlit windows. it spooked you a bit, in all honesty, to have her this close to you again after so many days, days where you had considered the other possibilities in which she may come back to you.

you weren't any less unnerving to her -- she could tell you hadn't been eating nearly enough since she had been gone, and in just a few short days you already looked withered enough to drop like a limp daisy. your skin was ghostly, its usual warmth dampened from a lack of sunlight.

still, she was your girl, and you were hers, even in your worn states. and god, she had missed you.

abby's pine soap filled your nose as she pressed her lips into yours, the warm skin hesitant under your cool, cracked ones, and you accepted her gratefully, even if just for a moment it was as useless as whiskey on a winter night.

but then, of course, like any decent drink, the buzz hits.

and even though your limbs are screaming against you as you do so, your fingers curl into abby's loose hair, and you turn your head just a bit more. when you kiss back, abby's shyness, her gentleness quickly melts away, replenished by a hunger matching your own as you desperately search for more of her, pulling her against you like you hoped to swallow her whole.

your teeth crashed against her soft skin, tugging at her lip and making a slot for your tongue to force its way into her mouth. instantly, she shuddered, groaning into you in a way that you could feel the vibrations in her chest. it was like an open invitation, a warm meal laid out just for you, and you accepted it greedily.

you pulled abby on top of you by her hair, whining back when she moaned against your lips again. her own hand snaked up your body, squeezing at your thighs and hips as she fell on top of you, then pushing your oversized shirt over your chest, exposing your chest and making a clear pathway for herself. still, as starving as she was, she tried to take her time with you, wrapping her fingers around your jaw to hold you in place, and only stiffening up when you parted your legs, wrapping them around her and shoving your bare cunt against her firm stomach.

"wait," she whispered against your lips, "wait f'me, baby. let me have some."

you whine and protest as abby's strong arm holds you down by your throat, her other coming down to pin your fighting, impatient wrists to your stomach.

"baby, baby please," you're crying between broken moans as her tongue runs up your neck, stopping just so you can feel her heavy breathing against the shell of your ear when she slowly begins to work her hips against yours, the fabric of her boxers smearing your arousal across her thighs.

"fuck, baby I know," she groans, and if it wasn't for the way she gritted her teeth, you'd think she was annoyed rather than desperately holding herself together.

"abby, I --"

abby's hand on your jaw slips up some so she can shove two of her fingers in your mouth, and she lets out a stupid, desperate moan when she feels you choke around them for a second. then your eyes roll back just when she looks up, checking on her little angel, and she can't help but grunt louder, slamming her hips into your core in a way that makes you keen and your back arch, your smaller fists squeezing underneath her grip.

"god, shut up," she's practically begging as her hips rut into you. "please just, fuck, be quiet for a second, shit -"

she buries her face in your neck again, trying to satiate herself and regain some of her sanity, but your legs are now locked around her, pulling her against you in a way that has her clit brushing deliciously against the seam of her boxers. her head spins every time, and she lets out broken whines as she feels herself already tipping dangerously towards that edge as your body fights to consume her.

and god, it's torture for her, but for you, you just can't get enough. your fucking beast of a girlfriend trying so futilely to hold it together from just this stupid game of dry humping, when you're so, so willing to give her so much more.

let me have you, let me have you, you're chanting in your mind, your ankles pushing at the hem of abby's boxers.

you swallow around her fingers, and that seems to do it for her, granting you some edge as her other hand releases your wrists and flies to the side to hold herself up as her back arches against you with a loud groan.

your hands rush on to her back, your nails finding purchase just below her shoulder blades and ripping down the muscle until her fingers tear from your throat to slam against the bed and she stifles a cry by biting down on the base of your neck so hard that for a moment, you're worried she might draw blood.

"fuck," you rasp out against the pressure.

abby's shaking in your arms, moaning between the prettiest sobs as she gives in. she's pliant when your hands slip down to grab at her ass, and she lifts her hips to help you slip her boxers off, kicking them behind her.

she leans back, her blonde hair dripping onto your exposed tits. the cold water makes you shudder, and you let abby shove her bare cunt between your legs and slotting one thigh over you.

your lips fall in a open-mouthed gasp and she swears as her entrance rocks against your throbbing clit, one of her hands coming down to steady your hips and the other to hold her shirt up over her stomach so she can see the way you're making a mess of her thighs.

she stays there for a minute, brutalizing your bundle of nerves for her own pleasure. your head falls against the mattress, and you let out ridiculous whines, your hands fisting and slamming against the sheets below you, even coming up to claw at her strong thighs that kept you pinned so tightly in place.

"fuck, fuck, 's too much," you're choking out, and now it's your turn for the waterworks while abby only chuckles, laughing breathlessly as she presses down harder.

"no, no baby," she coos between her own moans, running her tongue over her teeth as she shudders. She slips her hips down some until you're fully rutting against each other again, the sheer wetness making it that much more difficult for your brain to process. "'s not, sweetheart, you can take it. i know you can baby."

you shake your head, and abby rolls her eyes, quickening her pace until your cheeks rouge and your whining grows. your hips twitch beneath her, uncontrollably bucking up to kiss her pussy again and again and again despite your pleas.

"what's wrong?" she purrs, her hand coming from your hips to run itself down from your neck, to your chest, to the back of your thigh. "thought you wanted it, thought you were begging for it, baby."

you whine again, shivering under her touch as she leans down, her mouth capturing the meat of your thigh as she rocks against you. she bites harder with each push and pull, and your tired body can't take it. it's too easy to get worked up for her like this.

"abs, ohmygod, stop, 'm gonna-"

abby's all to keen, knows exactly what you're going to say before you can even finish your sentence.

"shit, fuck, no you're not," abby grunts, ripping away from you in an instant.

your arched back hits the mattress with a full on sob, and you can feel your unsatisfied arousal leaking onto the sheets, the sickness between your thighs and on your stomach, the smell of abby, abby, abbyabbyabby until you jolt back up, letting out a small cry at the sudden impact against your clit.

she does it again and again, slapping your swollen cunt until your body is on the verge of cumming just from this. you're already so pent up, so touch-starved that you'd probably cum just from her biting you again, and she knows it, knows you're both like that right now.

your arms prop you up as one of her hands holds open your parted thighs, and her lips are consuming yours again as she growls with every spasm and whine she pulls from you. she doesn't stop until she really thinks you might burst, when you're starting to lift your hips for more instead of trying to hide away.

"god, you're filthy, baby," she groans against your mouth, and you only nod dumbly, knees shaking as you try to catch your breath. she's kneeling between your legs, ready to worship her sweet slice of heaven, ready to piece you back together.

abby's hand comes down gently this time, just the tip of her middle finger tracing over the mess between your legs until she's prodding it against your entrance so delicately that your brain nearly short-circuits.

she looks back up at you, her chest heaving from some sort of late-onset restraint and with such devotion filling her dilated eyes that you almost can't move, can't breathe. her eyes rake over you, holding every detail for an extra moment to commit it to memory, and when it's clear you're too awestruck by her, too overwhelmed by the sight of her poised in reverence, she speaks for you.

"gonna let me in, pretty girl?" abby asks, the words dripping off of her tongue like a velvety chocolate. you nod stupidly, your head bobbing in a way that's a little too eager, but she doesn't say anything about it.

instead, she hums, licking her lips as she wraps a hand around your head, pulling you so that her nose bumps against yours. abby presses her lips against yours, and one of your hands shakes as it finds its way up to grasp at her bicep. she's much more gentle this time, much more cautious as the tip of her finger begins to delve inside.

you pull away from her lips with a gasp when she intrudes, turning your face to hide it in your shoulder. you can't help but squeeze around the single digit, your knees already trembling.

"uh-uh," she tsks softly, her raspy voice echoing against your ear. she kisses your temple, and her hand slides down some to turn your face back towards her.

"let me see you," she whispers, sucking in a gasp as she pushes her finger farther into you, curving her palm to fit snugly against you.

your eyes flutter up to hers, almost shyly as you feel your ears burn and your eyes threaten to water as she holds your gaze. she nods when you do, curling her finger inside of you as she praises you, the ridges of your walls clinging to her finger so tightly that she's taking small, shallow breaths now.

"that's it," she murmurs, holding your head in place so you have to look at her. "that's my girl."

you let out a small whimper, the embarrassment running straight to your core as she begins to work her finger in and out, guiding it further each time until the base of her thumb glides over your clit. when it does, she groans, and can't help but push her hand harder against you until she's practically shoving you into the mattress and you swear you can feel her in your throat.

stars flutter around the blurry edges of the halo that is her golden hair, and the tears in your eyes begin to slip again between the way she's carving a god damn signature inside of you and how she's holding you so tightly against her.

you open your mouth, trying to speak but hopelessly interrupted by a mixed sob and moan. she chuckles softly, but it's tender and sweet, and she nods, brushing her thumb over your temple.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

[goldsbitch]

Right? p8

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

epilogue - Lando's POV

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

Challenge me. Make me question my past actions. Hold me on the edge, while we risk it all.

Watch me watch you walk around the paddock, as if there wasn't a bright red love bite underneath your turtleneck. One that only I know about and plan on refreshing. Knowing you have to cover those up makes me ecstatic, because I have seen you smile like a teenager while doing so.

We're our little secret, for now. It will come out eventually and we'll enter a new chapter. But for today, let me have our classified, not so modest photoshoots. Let me sneak around just to give you a little peck on the cheek. Walk just a little close to me so that our hands brush, ever so "accidentally".

The way how you're so good at passing me by, as if you hadn't woken up next to me. Like I have no idea about your birthmark little too low on your lower back. The one I'd touched in a way colleagues should not.

And I know you're having to fight smiling a little too obviously during our team meetings. Because I have to admit, sometimes I have to hide my smirk behind a coffee cup or a cough. I wonder if people noticed that you don't take official photos of me anymore.

I'm good at running around with a camera, but I think I was born to be your muse. To let you capture me in the way only lovers can. Energy and desire creeping through every frame. I trust you deeply that you won't sell my secrets - and I know you have to trust me too. Allow me to play an all-or-nothing game, while being ultimately raw with you.

I sometimes can't help my mouth from smiling at random times throughout the day, just knowing that we managed to play this game so effortlessly. Once I got you on board, it turned out you're quite good at this. I guess it's making you irresistible even more.

I think hiding it from everyone is working in our favor. Once the fan hurricane hits when the reveal day comes, we will have already spent many days of freedom. It won't be a va banque taken with a stranger. A companion, lover, muse and the capturer. I should not be looking forward to causing a scandal, right? But I do. Turns out I am bad at stopping myself when it comes to you.

I've already sunk so deep, so much at your mercy, I am unable to untangle myself. Please, promise you mean it when you said "I love you" so shyly the other night. It took me some time to admit that I do. But with you being so slick and smart, you must have already known. You're someone who does not like to be brave about this. You wouldn't have said it if deep down you were not sure about my response. And that's ok. You're the smart one, I'm the brave one. A perfect combination.

One day, you'll have to take a big risk with me. When you've finally moved on from McLaren photos and get yourself in fashion photography as you always wanted anyway. You'll have to get out of your shell and I am so here for it. But for now, we have our little secret life to enjoy.

There will come a day when we'll replace the thrill of a private affair with a strive for something serious. If it had been only my decision, I would have already shouted to the world that you are mine. Make your love bites visible and trackable to me. One day, we won't have to worry about hotel room walls being too thin. But I want you ready for the price that comes with my public company.

I'll drive us fast, maybe even recklessly, and you'll make sure we have something to remember it by.

_______________________

@i-wish-this-was-me @lqvesoph @ophcelia @noneofyourfbusinessworld @formulaal @chezmardybum @amberpanda99 @4-mula1

Short, but a proper goodbye to my first story. Thank you all for the support! Love you all.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for pursuing cosmetic surgery against my husband’s wishes?

I have been quite insecure my entire life. From what others tell me, I’m decently pretty, but I put a lot of time and energy into my appearance every day only to be disappointed and embarrassed with the results. I figure that with only minor adjustments, I could save a lot of time and happiness.

I told my husband about it, and he was immediately concerned. He said he loved my face, and he would miss “the real me” even if it was only a little change. He thinks I’m letting my insecurities get the best of me and I’d never be happy again. But having already tried and failed to reduce these feelings for years, it seems more effective to try surgery. I’ve done my research and wouldn’t go to some quack.

Here’s where the problem is: my husband makes significantly more than me, I don’t have much in my own savings so far and we’re still building our wealth. He says I absolutely cannot take from our shared funds to pay for it, even though we could spare it and according to our agreement it’s my money too. He says he can veto that because he contributes more and he thinks it would harm me. I got upset, snapped that it’s not the fifties and I should have a choice in my own life, and went to bed. We are still cooling off right now.

I think I shouldn’t have said that and I don’t think he was in the wrong necessarily. He has my best interests at heart but I don’t think he understands how much time I’ve lost feeling miserable about how I look. We normally strive to agree especially on matters of money, but he was the most adamant he’s ever been, so I don’t think he’ll budge. I think I have a right to spend on myself sometimes, and he should be willing to let some money go for my happiness. I don’t want to cause distrust between us over money, but I want this so badly.

So, WIBTA for using our money for cosmetic surgery even if my husband doesn’t agree?

What are these acronyms?

[caitchercatlady]

The Promise of Forever

-2nd Year Version

Inspiration song: Thinking Out Loud-Ed Sheeran

Riddle Rosehearts

"(Y/N), these six months...nay, eight months I've been away from you have been utter torment. Yes, even with the "Adeuce vacation perks." Nevertheless, I've thought long about how and who I would spend the rest of my life. I thought I would have the scripted words for this night. The truth is...I lost them. Because those words I made were for myself and any person. You are not any person, (Y/N). You are the teapot to my mouse. You are the paint that makes the roses of this garden shine red as strawberry jam. Most importantly of all, you are my one and true Queen. There is no other individual in all of Twisted Wonderland whom I could ever fallen in love so hard. I will not waste another moment wondering. I must ask now. (Y/N), will you marry me?"

Ruggie Bucchi

"Look at this sunset. Isn't this view everything you always wanted? It took a little work, but we made it. (Snicker) Yes, we. No one person can make this happen by themselves. Hey, I"m still working on it. A dream business isn't built in a day...by oneself. Well, uh...I've been thinking...no, I've been wishing this for a long time. I made up my mind years ago. I'm sorry it took me so long. I wanted to make sure the ring was pefect. You deserve only the best and nothing less. Now, I don't knonw if I'm the best for everything, but I know this much: I love you, and you are my perfect half. Will you marry me, (Y/N)?"

Azul Ashengrotto

"(Chuckles) No, I didn't invite you here just to shower you with food and presents. I do that whenever you want. Yes, always. Well, about that...I've been drafting what may be the biggest of my life's work. (Y/N), you've played a bigger role in my life than anyone could ever imagine. For so long, I've hid behind strong gates, locked doors, and tall walls. You managed to break down every single one effortlessly, and much to my own surprise, I can't be mad about that. I've needed a wake-up call, and while it was hard to look at myself i the mirror, with you in it, it becomes easier everyday. You were the sun I've been striving to reach for all my life, (Y/N). Without you, my days will only become dark. My sunlight, my pearl, my angel fish. Will you take this ring and become my partner...forever and always?"

Jade Leech

"How could you not be more stunning than the moon? If I always tell you something, it means I mean it. And I will continue to remind you of it. For how long? As long as you'll have me. What do I mean with this ring? I was hoping you'd know. (Chuckles) I'm jesting, (Y/N). I've spent many moonlit nights, working for this day. From the moment I saw your peak wit, I knew there was only one individual in this world who would fit the missing puzzle spot. May I have your wit forever, (Y/N)? We can be married by tomorrow if you so wish."

Floyd Leech

"Found ya, Shrimpy! Do I need you for anything? Nah. But I want ya. (Laughter) You're so straight-to-the-obvious. Of course, we've been dating for three years. I don't forget things like that. I mean, I want you forever, silly. Prove it? Ok then. My ma said that you'll fall head over fins for this. Yeah, it's pretty, but not like you. I'll let ya wear it if you say, "Yes.""

Kalim al Asim

"You made it! All of this? It's for you! Yeah, it's also for me. It's for us to enjoy. What's the occasion? I love you. That's the occasion. Of course, I love you everyday, but this night is very special. (Laugh) I don't love you more tonight...What I meant is I already love you forever i teh biggest way possible. Tonight, I wanna prove I'll love you forever. How will I do that? With this! I picked it myself. My dad gave Mom a lot of rings to show how much he loves her. She let me look at her collection and pick a ring for you. I chose this one because it reminds me of hte day I fell in love with you. Ever since that day, my love for you hasn't changed, and it never will. Please, (Y/N), please, please, please marry me!"

Jamil Viper

"Good evening. The moon is quite bright, isn't it? It reminds me of your smile. Yes, there was a reason I wanted to see you here. I've been wondering how to begin. You have me at a loss for words during every important moment, and when I wonder why, I believe the answer is that you resemble the unexpected. I thought my life had been planned out for me since my birth, but you proved that I can choose where I go in my life. Tonight, I'm chooing my path again, and there is no question who I choose to walk it with. Will you join my life, (Y/N)? For how long? Forever, I wish. I wish it with all of my heart."

Silver

"Yes, graduation is upon me, and it has arrived too fast. It's not that I'm not ready. I've never been more ready to enter the world as a full mage. I'm just not ready to leave my life behind as I venture forward. I mean you. I know you're only a class year below mine, but I cannot wait a year to tell you how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Yes, I will ask you now while my chances are ripe. Please, will you be my partner forever? Will you marry me?"

[elains]

Azriel's association with Enalius, what it means for his arc and Illyria

This is something me and my friends have talked about off tumblr, but I wanted to write my own post about it and gather my thoughts. But here, I'll discuss a bit Azriel's character and how the revelations we witness in House of Flame and Shadow will be important to his character. (+ a little bit of Emerie).

What do we know about Enalius? From ACOSF, Emerie provides us with a little exposition when they are in the Rite, when the Pass of Enalius is brought up:

Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days.

Now, from the Crescent City crossover, we learned that Truth-teller and Gwydion are twin blades. They are a pair. According to the Silene History Lesson, the dagger used to belong to her father's (Fionn's) dear friend, slain during the war. A bit later, when they find Vesperus, she confirms that this friend was Enalius:

The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

Immediately before that, she also confirms that the Asteri crafted (which can either mean created, shaped forged, but we are going with created) the Illyrians:

The Asteri’s blue eyes lowered to the dagger. “You dare draw a weapon before me? Against those who crafted you, soldier, from night and pain?”

From everything, we can conclude this: Enalius was the original wielder of Truth-teller before Fionn and Theia, a dear friend to Fionn, and someone who pulled the ultimate sacrifice to keep the Asteri/Daglan from reaching the top of Ramiel. He was a traitor to the Asteri, a rebel against his masters and everything they stood for.

Enalius is the hero most Illyrians strive to mimic, the legendary figure who they all hope to one day surpass. He's a symbol of their people, even if so much about him has been forgotten — the fact that he had a dagger, Fionn's friendship, what the battle was for, maybe even how he was as a person. Brave, for sure. Willing to die for the cause.

And it's Azriel who bears his dagger. Azriel, who has such a complicated relationship with his Illyrian heritage and loaths it - and by extension, himself - is the one with this enormous legacy right at this hand. And this matters.

Still in ACOSF, we have Rhys talking with Cassian and wanting him to play Courtier, the following exchange then follows:

“What, we’re doing some role reversal? Az gets to lead the Illyrians now?” “Don’t play stupid,” Rhys said coolly. Cassian rolled his eyes. But they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother that the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them.

Azriel hates the Illyrians for what happened to him and his mother and his dislike for them is, to a degree, understandable. The thing is that Azriel, no matter how much he loaths it, is Illyrian. Maybe he's more than that (as it's pointed that Az is different in a lot of ways and Bryce wonders if he is Starborn), but at heart, he's Illyrian. Siphons, leathers, fighting, being Carynthian, his wings, his scabbard and the dagger it holds.

It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he'd come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.

Being Illyrian is part of who he is and his deep hatred for them only fuel his self-loathing. He would like to set himself apart, but he is not.

We can actually draw a direct parallel between Azriel and Bryce with how they regard the Fae vs the Illyrians. Bryce loathes the Fae and for most of HoFaS, she believes they are evil, corrupt, power-hungry and quite generally, not worth saving. She would leave them all to burn. Sound familiar?

And Bryce is wrong. Sathia challenges her notion, pointing out that she's laying judgement to all fae and that is hardly fair. What the one who don't deserve it? Herself, yes, but Flynn, Declan, and Ruhn himself? Do they deserve to burn too? Bryce herself acknowledges this:

Urd had sent her there to see, even in the small fraction of their world that she’d witnessed, that Fae existed who were kind and brave. She might have had to betray Nesta and Azriel, trick them … but she knew that at their cores, they were good people. The Fae of Midgard were capable of more. Ruhn proved it. Flynn and Dec proved it. Even Sathia proved it, in the short time Bryce had known her.

And this part here sums up quite neatly:

Fire met starlight met shadows, and Bryce loosed herself on the world. It ended today. Here. Now. This had nothing to do with the Asteri, or Midgard. The Fae had festered under leaders like these males, but her people could be so much more.

There are Illyrians who are kind and brave and break the mold. We see this with Emerie, who is also a woman. We see that with Balthazar, Cassian. The main point stands, though, that you cannot judge or condemn an entire race for the bad apples.

Azriel is wrong, just as Bryce was wrong, and his journey will be also to realise that his people are worth saving. They were created of night and pain (words that Azriel embodies, being a master of shadows and a torturer), but that is not everything they need to be. They can be more than soldiers. They can thrive.

And I believe this was something Enalius himself came to the believe, long ago. His people deserved more than to be slaves to the Asteri, forced to give them their power when need be, bred to live and die for them. They could be more. And Enalius died to free his people from their chains.

Is Azriel Enalius's blooded descendant? I'm not sure, but he doesn't need to be. Azriel is Enalius successor because he will finish what was started. He'll uncover the secrets of the past, what his people were in truth, what Enalius rebelled for, what he stood for, what the Blood Rite truly means - which he only got a glimpse of.

And this is where I think Emerie will also come in. She's s one of ACOSF most relevant characters and the first female Illyrian to be Carynthian. I think Emerie will also become an inspirational figure to the Illyrian women, another of these what they coud be. What they can be. And more importantly and that is just a theory, what they were.

Orestes was a warrior. What if so was Carynth and she was woman? The name always struck me as similar to Carina, which is the name of a constellation and commonly used by women. It would be ironic and another shaking revelation to the Illyrians that Carynth, for whom their greatest warriors are named after, was a woman.

Does that mean all Illyrian women must become Valkyries? No, but some might wish to follow this path whilst their society takes its time to catch up. They already shook the status quo and with Nesta poised to have a big role (andthe Valkyries along her), they will continue to do so.

Azriel will uncovered the lost history of Vesperus offered him all the clues he needed to start looking. His journey to find out this secrets will lead to him facing his own demons, confronting his loathing for his people and, in doing so, he will make peace with himself.

[randombush3]

roadside romance

leila ouahabi x reader

summary: when leila’s car breaks down, you come to the rescue

words: 2037

notes: this is an ode to british weather and hot mechanics. i know nothing about cars but i learnt something while writing this!!!!

this was requested btw 🫡

It’s just fucking inconvenient. A closure on the motorway means that they have to take a detour down winding, country roads. And Leila has a sneaking suspicion that her car is going to stop functioning at any given minute now that the blinking, red light has become a permanent fixture on her dashboard.

Leila had looked at her friends apprehensively the minute the light had appeared, but Ona didn’t care and Laia was too wrapped up in posting their day trip to Blackpool on her Instagram to offer any worthwhile advice.

So, lacking expertise and a good enough grasp of English geography to find a nearby mechanic, Leila had carried on with their journey. It was only another hour to Manchester after all.

Which leads them to now, stranded on the side of the road. Laia and Leila stood outside of the car, while Ona spreads out as she naps in the backseat, none the wiser to the situation they have landed themselves in.

“Can’t you just fix it?” Laia asks her friend as they stare at the bonnet helplessly. “You seem like you know how to fix cars.”

Leila places an uncertain hand on the shiny metal, wondering if she even knows how to get the bonnet open. “That’s Mapi, not me. I have no idea what to do.”

They try to call someone, but there is no service and no pavement to walk down the road to see if elsewhere has a few more bars.

Frankly, it’s so unlucky that this has happened that Laia and Leila both have to hold in their laughter, not wanting the other to think they don’t understand how bad the situation actually is. Because, being stuck in a foreign country with no service and no knowledge about the inner-workings of a car is quite comical. It would be a great scene of a movie.

It’s Ona, when she returns to the land of the living, who comes up with a solution.

The defender gets out of the car, joining her friends as they sit on the grass verge adjacent to the road. “We’ve just got to wait here and look like three damsels in distress until someone drives past and helps us.” Though Leila knows she could probably think of something better if she really put her mind to it, she agrees to Ona’s plan, too lazy to do anything other than wallow in her misery. Now she’s going to have to take her car to the mechanic, and she hates doing things like that here because she has to drag Hempo with her to translate strong Mancunian accents into normal, more understandable English.

…

“Yeah, I’m coming. The motorway’s just chock-a-block and so I’ve taken a back route,” you tell your impatient sister, who is annoyed that you are late to her daughter’s birthday party. “Don’t be angry with me, be angry with the M6.” She chides you for your tardiness anyway, and you internally curse her for moving to Blackpool. It’s not like she’s a ballroom dancing fan or anything.

The countryside looks miserable when it’s just your car zipping down the empty roads, and it doesn’t help that the grey sky above makes you think it’s going to rain. While you have lived in Manchester your whole life and strive to not get bummed out by the weather, it makes you a little annoyed that the country can’t get its act together. You wish you had the power to teleport to Spain or something.

You pity anyone who is stuck outside as it begins to drizzle.

…

“Can we get in the car now?” Ona whines, completely going back on her plan after feeling the droplets of rain hit the top of her head. “I don’t want to get wet.”

“Please, Leila,” Laia adds. She hopes to sway her friend's adamance to stay where they can be seen, in case a helicopter flies over and lands in a nearby field to offer their aid (which seems more likely than someone driving past at this point).

“No, it’s only a bit of rain,” she tells her friends. A low rumble of thunder echoes in the fields. Ona and Laia raise their eyebrows. “Fine. You two be pathetic. I’ll stay here, doing the saving.”

“Our hero,” Laia replies sarcastically, chasing after Ona as she sprints to the car. “Have fun getting wet!”

It begins to chuck it down.

When a black Ford pulls up, a bit further up the road, coming from the direction they were heading in, and you get out, Leila finds that getting soaked has become worth it.

“Are you alright?” you shout to her, crossing the road and walking along the grass verge to get a better look at what is happening.

“My car is not working!” Leila shouts back.

You frown, approaching the brunette with concern. She has had to sit in the rain so that someone notices her. You’re a sympathetic person.

“Hi,” Leila says shyly as you help her up, wiping the water from her eyes so that she can see you properly.

“Hi.” You give her a once-over (solely for the purpose of checking she’s okay), and then turn to her car. “What’s wrong with it?” She squints at the sound of your strong accent, and you flush red, embarrassed. “What is wrong with your car?” you repeat with more clarity.

“I don’t know.”

“Was there a red light on the dash?” Leila’s vindication comes out in a muttered Spanish swear, before she nods and follows you down the verge to the road. “Can you pop the bonnet? I’ll give it a look.”

And, while you are doing that, Leila is giving you a look. Along with Ona and Laia.

“Es guapa,” an enviably dry Ona comments to her friends as Leila settles in the driver’s seat. You have instructed her to stay put for a moment while you puzzle at the state of her engine, wanting to know what is wrong before you explain it to the pretty woman you have found on the side of the road.

“Y lesbiana,” Laia points out as you tie your sopping hair up into a bun. Your t-shirt is so soaked that it is no longer of any use, so you pull it up over your head, getting to work in just your bra after wringing out enough water to fill a swimming pool. On your wrist is a bracelet from a Pride event you were dragged to by your friend the other day. You are secretly hoping Leila notices it. “Lei, dile tu nombre. Coquetea con ella.”

“Sí, pregúntale cuál es el problema.”

Leila scoffs, unimpressed with herself at how easily they have picked up on her attraction to you.

“Va. Es de Manchester, también.”

“Guapa, local, y lesbiana. Es perfecta.”

“No sé…” Leila starts, undecided as to whether she should let them convince her she has a chance or not.

Just when Laia and Ona are about to list more of your enticing physical qualities, you appear by the door, knocking on the window to tell her to open it.

“Good to see you’ve dried off a bit,” you joke, feeling as though you are so drenched that you will never be dry again. Leila blushes, but you are unsure whether it's because your joke is terrible or because her friends in the backseat have squashed together in the middle so that they can see what’s happening. You clear your throat. “So it’s a coolant leak. Took me a minute to realise half the water on the ground was actually your coolant and not the rain, but I figured it out eventually! The radiator’s hose clamps were damaged and, obviously, they’ve failed…”

But Leila isn’t listening to you telling her what is wrong with her car, because her friends are whispering in Spanish about how good you look topless. And she is inclined to agree with them.

It is only when you stop talking and the white noise of your ramble is no longer present that she realises what has happened, and she snaps out of staring at you. “Perdón, please could you repeat that?” It’s a phrase she has become very accustomed to, after all.

You laugh, and Leila likes the sound of it very much. “There was a leak, but I can fix it for you. If you’d like?”

“Yes!” Ona answers for her, making Leila practically jump out of her skin.

At Leila’s apparent hesitance, you remember you never introduced yourself to the three women in need of a car mechanic. It’s handy that that is exactly what you do for a living. “Fuck, sorry. I’m Y/n.” You hold out your hand for her to shake, and ignore the tingles where your skin meets hers. “I’ll need, like, an hour to do it, but I can. I’m a mechanic.”

“Es tan perfecta,” Laia giggles, poking Leila to remind her to tell you her name too.

“My name is Leila. I am not a mechanic, but can you… teach me?”

It’s an excuse to watch you fix her car.

You both know it.

“Yeah, sure. I have an umbrella in my car, and I’ll need to get my toolkit and stuff. I’ll bring it over, and then you won’t get wet.”

“I already am.”

You blush, though you know it’s probably not what she meant. All three of them speak with strong Spanish accents, reminding you of your grandmother.

…

It takes slightly longer than expected to sort out the clamps, but you don’t mind having an excuse to not go to a little kid’s birthday party. You love your niece, but the thought of thirty hyper five-year-olds running around and begging you to play with them makes you gulp. You’d rather arrive when the guests have left and your niece has crashed from her inevitable sugar-high.

Leila stands beside you as you work, holding the umbrella above both of your heads. You are too focused on your task to see her check you out every so often, but she has left the car door open so you can hear the eager encouragement from her friends. Ona even takes a picture because the scene is so hilarious.

“What does this do?” Leila quizzes as you finish up, pointing at the engine and enjoying the way you answer so effortlessly. “And this? And that?”

You wipe the sweat (and rain) from your brow, sighing as you step back to observe your work. For an impromptu fix-up on the side of the road, it’s not bad. She may need to bring her car into the garage to get it properly sorted once she gets to her destination.

“Could I borrow your phone?” you ask after catching her staring. It gives you a surge of confidence.

Confused, Leila nods, handing it over to you.

“Mi madre es de España.” All three Spanish women feel their mouths open in shock. And horror. And the realisation that you definitely heard everything they have been saying about you.

Leila feels like jogging to the nearest motorway and diving in front of a truck.

“I’ll give you my number and you can update me on the car? You’ll need to get someone to look over it more thoroughly.”

“Sí,” Leila breathes, hoping that you are signing yourself up for that job.

“I’m based in Manchester, so if that’s convenient, you could always bring it into my garage.”

“We live in Manchester too,” Laia helpfully shouts from inside the car. “And she will do that!”

“And… I could also text you a restaurant where you can ask me even more questions about car engines over dinner?” You grin at her, and she grins back.

“Sí, por favor.”

“It was nice to meet you, Leila,” you say slowly, pleased with yourself but dignified to hold in your cheering until your return to your own car.

“Igualmente,” Leila replies, handing you your t-shirt that you had previously discarded onto the floor. She’s still embarrassed that you understood what her friends said about you, but at least that means she now has a date.

Or two.

Or three.

It depends on how many more problems she can find with her car.

[aventurine83]

The Tempest

William James Moriarty x Reader

"Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, with hair up-staring, ーthen like reeds, not hair,ーwas the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.'" William leant back in his armchair, scarlet eye blinking beneath his beautiful blond eyelashes as he gazed into empty space. Over his other eye was a dark black eyepatch.

You simply hummed as you looked into the book you held, of Shakespeare's plays. You remembered only so many quotes from it. William had no need for a book, he could recite all 40 of Shakespeare's plays from memory. Him reciting thus to you helped you get through the book quickly and in a more joyous way. Hearing your husband speak was something that gave you much mirth, especially when you were both seated across each other in comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace in the midst of a dreary winter in your small home at Brighton.

"I feel bad for Ariel." you commented. "Has to do his master's bidding."

William chuckled softly and dryly on hearing your words. "I doubt Ariel is completely blameless." he uttered as he propped one leg over the other. William had a most adorable and polite way of seating himself, it never failed to make you swoon and want to wrap him in a hug.

"Thats true." you replied, closing your book, yawning.

"Are you tired? We may stop here for today if that is your wish." William smiled, his scarlet gaze homing in on yours.

"That would be much appreciated." you smiled at him, noting the soft expression he held. William had always had a solemn, distant expression before, so seeing him thus softened brought a sort of happiness to your heart. "Sherlock didn't barge in tonight. Odd, considering he does so every single night taking every advantage of the fact he lives next door." you sighed.

William chuckled heartily. "I would have appreciated had Sherly shown himself. I do have a few things that I need to talk to him about." he hummed softly, his voice as soft and lovely as ever, decorated with his signature British accent.

"We should get to bed, Liam." you placed your hand on the man's arm, rubbing it gently. "You have an early day tomorrow."

"Indeed." William nodded gently, his scarlet eye reminiscient of either the beauty of sunsets or the glistening crimson of blood freshly smeared on the sharpened tip of a blade. "Were I but wretched, my love." he sighed, placing his hand on your cheek. "It pains me to see your attentions gone to work on so odious a man as myself, on such vulgar a connexion, as has hardly been since the notion of the propriety of society, and that of the worth of life, came into being." his tone was soft, his eyes sorrowful, such a broken man he was, yet so beautiful.

"William..." you could hardly place your words right, you had little idea of what to say, and you wished for him to finish his thought as well.

"For years have my actions led me, in desperation for a result, caused me to sin twice and twice again." William uttered, his expression hardening. "For years, have these palms been seeped through with a scarlet as irremovable as the stains of ink on a canvas pure white, untainted; marred with blotches so painfully obvious as would most likely repulse any whose misfortune beget them gaze upon it, and scruple through its length and width desperately so as to propagate the assemblage of a search of true purpose, true affability, even a sense of alacrity within but finding nothing."

You gently tugged at William's eyepatch, an action that caused him to flinch before he tried to relax ultimately under your observance. You removed it carefully, revealing a scar that marred his skin, and a discoloured eye that could see no longer. You gently kissed the scar, your hand resting on William's cheek. "There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, good things will strive to dwell with't." you spoke softly. Lines from the Tempest, offered to Ferdinand by Miranda.

William's gaze immediately softened, his heart warm and full, recognizing the lines the moment they slipped past your mouth. He pulled you closer by the waist, a gentle, small smile tugging at his lips. "You render me speechless, you render me most powerless and above all, a fool to your whims." he kissed your lips gently. "Oh sweet, fair Miranda of mine." he brought you down onto his lap, kissing your neck. "My darling mistress."

[lightlycareless]

I found a picture of Naoya playing the piano and want to show it to you. My fav scene where naoya teaches his wife piano. I love the scene sm 🤭🤭

HIIII how are you!!!!??? Thank you for patience 🥺

Omg thank you so much for sending me this ajkghajgajgs Naoya is a man of many talents, and him using them to brighten your day is 🥺 I'll always hold that scene close to my heart, them bonding together is just 😭 oh, I wish we could have more moments like that.

And we can... I mean, I wrote a little something, like a deviation from what I have planned lol a what if, if you must 😏

warnings: none. fluff. it's based on this fic. now that's a whole can of worms. proceed with caution.

Imagine you deciding to continue your piano lessons after growing somewhat genuinely interested in learning.

After a few sessions you’ve began to show improvement. Sure, you still struggle with certain things, such as jumping from one octave to the other, but anyone could easily admit you were not the same amateur from before.

And yet… there seemed to be something holding you back from taking the next step. You were already a master of twinkle twinkle little star, so why couldn’t you move onto something a bit more difficult?

Well, it was plain simple. Quite obvious, actually, for an outsider that is. Naoya was too blinded by his role as a teacher to even notice.

It was all intentional, made from your desire to keep him close, enjoying the way he’d place his arms around you, his large hands over yours as he guides you into the correct position to play even if you already knew how.

All to keep feeling his breath on your skin, the cologne you now solely associated with him, and you suppose his attention too, especially when you played the shy, tense student that desperately needed the guidance of her sensei.

To voice such ploys made you feel silly, if not selfish, but you didn’t know how to voice your need without feeling embarrassed. You didn’t want to appear needy before a man that is always busy, and yet, here you were, acting as if you’d never seen a piano in your life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Naoya loves spending time with you, even though seemingly mundane activities. But even he was getting a bit… frustrated with these lessons that were quickly growing repetitive. His perfectionist temperament demanded he’d do everything right, or at least strive for it, naturally extending to you. Obviously for you, the woman whom he wanted to please more than anything in this world.

You showed enough promise, a talent that could be polished if pursued, so why weren’t you advancing?

Was it… him, perhaps? Your actions consequence of his failure as a teacher?

Maybe. Naoya isn’t known for being a particularly good listener, less of an educator. There’s enough witnesses to asses to it.

Your husband just hopes his incapability doesn’t push you away from wanting to learn piano, Naoya would rather die than to cut short these already scarce moments with you.

Though it’s more likely that he’ll do that anyways, a well-prepared teacher appears to be a better alternative.

“… but I don’t get it. Maybe there’s something I’m not seeing.” Naoya frowns, adjusting his position near you and taking your hands with him once more, hoping that it’ll come to him. The solution to your problem.

He sighs when it doesn’t. For the nth time. Maybe he is a bad teacher after all.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll be able to teach you anymore.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m just having a tough time figuring out how to help you.” Naoya laments. “I may have underestimated my skills.”

You know what they say, the best way to check if you know something is by teaching it to someone else. Something like that, or so he’s heard.

“Don’t say that I think you’re doing great!” You encouraged, looking over to Naoya and his deep frown, evidence of the frustration your little ploy has inflicted on him. Had you known he would be so affected by it you would’ve gone easier with your obliviousness…

And yet, it was endearing to see your impact on him. How hard he was trying to make things work for you—you still couldn’t believe how much of an influence you had on him, even if he’s already proved the lengths he was willing to go to make you happy.

…Like the protective husband he swore to be on your wedding day.

“You don’t have to mock me, mochi” Naoya insists. “I think you’d be better off with an actual teacher if you still want to learn.”

You do, but…

“…I want you.” You murmur, so lowly, so… sweetly, that Naoya had to double check he heard you right the first time around, quickly swirling his head onto your direction, frozen the moment your doe-like, hypnotizing eyes, those he could never get enough of, landed on his, with such intensity that let him know it was all true.

The purpose you were attempting to convey many lessons ago instantly becoming clear to him. The intentions you were too shy to speak out loud, but not enough to sway you from trying, an unknown edge of yours that had him both impressed and absorbed.

One never stops knowing their partner, do they?

What an enthralling thought to have.

“Is that so?” He murmurs back, leaning closer to you. “You’d be fine with someone like me as your teacher, princess?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone… better.” You blush. And though intimidated by his piercing gaze, you persisted. When you once cowered away, you now wished to be the only person his eyes saw.

“Then I guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Maybe it’s because he was within your reach, or because you had enough of going around in circles, whatever it was, you couldn’t hold back anymore; and with the noise of your heart deafening your ears, you lean closer to him, removing the gap between the two and placing your lips over his. Gently, sweetly, like it was your first time, and took him in—sealing your newfound sentiments with a kiss he’s long been dreaming of.

So much that he’s almost in disbelief, remaining still as he tries his best to both contain his excitement, heart ready to burst through his chest, hands itching to pull you closer and keep you there, afraid that the moment he peels away you’ll disappear, just as he’s forced you to through the beginning of this marriage.

Naoya too felt like it was the first time he’s ever kissed anyone—perhaps kissed anyone with love. With that soft warmth he could only label as true love. What he feels for you now, has always been so, and hopefully, you too.

After a few seconds, much to Naoya’s dismay, you’re the first one to separate, slowly pulling away and opening your eyes to the sight of your flustered husband, the adorable face of a man that has dreamed of this day for god knows how long, giving you the impression (alongside a sense of guilt) that maybe you should’ve been a bit more direct with your actions.

Though how everything came to be… wasn’t that bad.

“You didn’t have to go through all that, you know?” Naoya teases, his attempt to cool down the heat on his cheeks. “If you just wanted to kiss me, you just had to say so.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you joke back, and he smirks, letting out a chuckle. “…But I guess I shouldn’t have wasted your time.”

“Being with you is no waste of time.”

Now it’s your turn to grow speechless, face red, perhaps even more than Naoya’s, due to the vast, unexpected sweetness of his words, and the overwhelming embarrassment it provided you, leading you to cover your face with your hands and making him laugh even louder.

“You don’t need to act this way with me, love.” Naoya says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “We’ve done more… heated things, after all. This is nothing.”

“Oh, stop it! Is that your way of comforting me?!” You gasp, burying your face deeper into his chest.

“It is the truth, love. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“You know well I wasn’t referring to that” you murmur. “…but… do you really feel that way…?”

“I’d give you the whole world if you asked.”

But even if you didn’t, he was going to do so, because he has long sworn in his own life that he’d do everything in his power to make up for all the wrongdoings he’s inflicted upon you. His best to erase the vile acts he did when he called himself your so-called husband.

For as long as it takes, all of his lifetime if so needed, and the next one, and the next one.

“I think I’ll be happy just to hear you play the piano for now.” You eventually add. “If you don’t have anything else to do.”

“I’m all yours today—”

“And...” you interrupt, Naoya blinks.

“And?”

“If I can kiss you again.” You say, shyly looking up to him. “If you want…”

“Hm, I don’t know… you’ll have to convince me.”

“How do I do that?” you tilt your head.

“By giving me a kiss for each time you had me going around in circles.”

With unprecedented speed, you quickly grabbed his face and begging to pepper kisses all over his face, Naoya more than happy that you were, and a bit startled too.

“Wait, Y/N—did you even want to learn how to play??” He rightfully concludes.

“A bit, I guess.” You giggle. “But really I just wanted to be with you.”

Naoya immediately succumbs to your gestures soon after that, putty on your hands as he lets himself be appreciated by the woman of his dreams, the love of his life—the owner of his heart.

Your heart squeezes with longing. Who knew Naoya could be this… adorable? So sweet, you didn’t have the heart to deny him—

Nor would you, setting to live out the rest of your life as his wife.

For good, this time.

I always liked the idea of you being able to feel Naoya's heart. Like, how fast it is beating because of how happy he is with you 🥺 Thankfully I do have another prompt with that exact same situation, though it's a HS au. Also, this is not their fated kiss I owe y'all, I think what I have planned is much better 😏 (or so I hope)

Now, thank you so much for waiting for my answer 🥺 I'm still slowly but surely working through them requests :> I always appreciate whenever you send me something (so don't be afraid of sharing more hehe)

Take care and hope to see you soon!!

[vulpixisananimal]

(Mirabelle)

"Stop it!!" (You scream.) "Both of you!! They, S-sif you'll, you'll-"

(They both ignore you. You could see Siffrin, Null? Getting, more and more exhausted with each step. They look, almost dead to the world! You couldn't help but grip your rapier.)

"Perhaps we should tell them to stop." (You wince, Merlon was standing a few feet away, closer to you. Did they circle around while you were focused? Her voice was quieter.) "I fear your friend might have gone too far."

"Now you think it's too far?!?" (You're, you're overwhelmed, you were afraid, nervous, angry, hopeful; but you had to focus.) "Aren't you even a little just, just, sorry?!?"

"A smidge," (they reply flatly.) "It would be a shame for such a hero to die before we find out how he turns back time."

(But even though he looked obviously weak and beaten, Perci didn't let up.) "I'd call it cheating. . ." (His swords dances, like they know just where to be no matter what Siffrin did.) "but it looks like you're only hurting yourself."

(You feel numb, you might cut yourself with how tightly you hold your rapier.)

". . . He gets, excited." (Merlon comments again. They're still writing things down.) "Or Dramatic, take your pick. I'll talk to him about it again once we're done here."

"That's a real help." (You respond, a hint of malice in your voice.) "If you really wanted to help then-!

(You see Siffrin, Nulls dagger go flying.)

(You inhale sharply. Null steps back. Standing for a moment, then collapsed to his knees. He looks, exhausted.)

"SIFFRIN!!!" (You take a step forward, Melon raises a hand, stopping you for a moment.)

(Perci crouches down, looking into their face. He turns back to you.) "Not dead, I'm sure of it. And as you can see, I barely laid a scratch on him!"

"Now now, (Merlon shakes their head.) "While that's true, look at them. He may not be dead, but he might wish he was."

"Leave them alone!!" (Is he okay?!? How many times did he loop?!? What was he thinking why didn't he just go back to get more help first!!!) "They've gone through enough!!"

"True, then, in that case a deal is a deal." (Perci stretches his hands, looking back at- W-wait!)

"NO!!!!!" (You push past Merlons hand, drawing your rapier and lunging at Perci. He moves back just in time that your blade only catches his shirt. You place yourself firmly between your friends body and your enemy. Your body feels numb, but you stood your ground. You had to make sure Null was okay!! A-and, make sure that-)

"We had a deal!" (Perci looks annoyed.) "Come now, lady Mirabelle, that's not very housemaidenly of you!"

"Deals change." (You scowled as hard as you could. If he wanted to hurt your friend then crab to his deals!!!) "I'm not going to sit by and let you hurt them!!"

"Of course you aren't." (He huffed, readying his swords.) "Lady Mirabelle, you have one more chance to step aside, I've been polite so far but that, too, can change."

"You can read my mind, can't you?" (You take a stance, ready to fight. If you can read my mind, then you should know that change is exactly what I strive for!)

(You had no plan, you lunge at Perci, letting your instincts take controll. He blocked, parried, step, pause, what that a rustle in the bushes?!? You step back, swipe- birds, just birds. Calm your nerves, Mirabelle!!)

"Perci!" (Merlon exclaimed, oh! You sliced him on the face.) "I'll-"

"No! My love no need to strain yourself, I'm fine." (He came at you again, what was he going to do?!? Slice with both?!? You had move! Move and dance back, footwork! And, and- you block, parry, good! You felt excitment in your veins, you reveled in it.)

(He dove in again! Oh Change how long was he going to keep this up!?! You had to just, keep moving! You had to, get back, get help or- is Bonnie okay?!? Ramos okay?!?! What if something bad happened while you're here!!)

(Step, step, block. You were too busy with Perci to properly use your crafts! Scissors? You couldn't do anything! Even Siffrin could use some rock craft- No! You, had to keep a bottle on that, self-loathing for, f-for later. Just, keep surviving! Take your time and-)

(You let out a yelp as you felt metal nip your arm. You glance, blood. He was good, you were good, but he was using two swords! Of course he could beat you he's using two!! You only have your rapier, and Null had a DAGGER.)

(He came at you again, block and- ouch, another cut, could you keep up?!? You're the swordswoman of the group! You could keep up, right? Just keep trying, ignore that other nip, and another. Cuts, it hurts but just focus!)

(You slash Perci on the hand, he drops one of his swords, glances at you, hesitates, tries picking it up and winces. Wounded? You were getting somewhere! He sheethes that sword and readys just the one. Sweat and rain ran down your skin.)

"You're very talented, I'll give you that." (He was panting, Glaring at you. You kept on your toes, just in case he lunged.)

"You're, not too bad, yourself!" (You said it with as much venom as you could inject into a compliment.)

"Why, thank you." (He smiles, genuinely this time, then looked away, sad? Angry? Annoyed?) ". . . I don't want to hurt you, Lady Mirabelle."

"If you're trying to give me another chance to stand down, don't bother!" (Where was your confidence coming from? You were SURGING with determination, strength, anger, passion, trust, fear, euphoria, doubt. So many at once.)

(You looked down at Null, collapsed on the ground, he was passed out. They, they were your friend. Your family. Your, your feelings buddy. . . They'll, they'll be okay, right?)

"I was afraid you would say that." (He sighed, there's another sound from the bushes.) "And there's no way I can convince you otherwise?"

"No!" (You grip your sword tighter.) "I won't ever let someone hurt my friends!! And I would never ever let someone force their way into their minds!!!"

(You felt the rain on your skin, you felt a bead of sweat on your head, and you felt, felt, a tear run down your cheek. Tears, multiple tears.)

"But even if it could-"

"Shut up!" (You interupt. You felt the waves wash over you. You were drowning. You couldn't repress it. You couldn't hold it.)

(You felt ice cold. Your chest felt tight, and yet, you continue on.) "My friends mind isn't some plaything! And what he feels about his home, it should be his decision if he wants to be involved in your, y-your stupid crabbing research!!!"

(Perci was taken aback, but you continue.) "I don't want to hear you talk! I don't want to hear your excuses! I don't want to hear how you think this is Change, or how it's doing those forgotten people a favor!! Someones mind, emotions, self, it's private!!!"

(The betrayed feeling you bottled up when things were taken without asking. The sadness of failing that you couldn't show. The extreme joy of a nice gift you felt you had to repress. Bottled up inside, untill you die.)

(You wouldn't keep it bottled any longer, no! You made a promise as well, and you wouldn't keep those feelings bottled untill you die! And you wouldn't wallow in despair untill you die either!)

(You were taught that by two islanders. One, your closest friend, and the other, your hated enemy. Bottling their emotions and embracing them untill they were consumed. You ready your rapier. You made a promise.)

(You'll continue to fight.)

". . . Fine." (Perci sighs, defeated. He holds a scissors sign up.) "I'm sorry, Lady Mirabelle, you wont remember a thing, dont worry."

(He's about to use mind craft, you know it. Some strong charm, maybe something you couldn't beat, and, a-and that scared you, but.)

(He sends a blast of craft energy at you.)

(You stood your ground. You'll continue to fight, and you'll do it scared.)

(In a flash, that strange sadness was between you and Perci. It's hands were clasped together in a form that, that. . .)

(That's. . . That's your skill. That's your skill. Adorable Moving Shield, but, strongr! Holy Care Shield! The invulnerability shield you could never DREAM of learning how to craft- That's why it was randomly invincible!! It was using!! Your!! Skill!!!!)

(Perci stared at you, stared at the sadness. He was, for once, at a lost for words. It was only when the sadness dashed at Perci did he snap back to reality and start fighting for his life.)

"Perci!! I can-" (Merlon starts again.)

"I'm- Fine!!" (Perci did not sound fine. It sounded like he was running a marathon.) "Don't, you dare, Mimi."

(You were entranced by the sadness and how it moved. Now that you weren't fighting it, you recognised its movements because it's how you moved. It had your change symbol. It had your hair, your, your-)

"MIRABELLE!!!"

(You knew that voice, you turn, Ramos and Bonnie were running down the road to you. You smile, thank Change they came to help.)

(The sadness jumped back from Perci and growled. Perci looked winded, worried. He looked to you.) "I-Is, is it yours?!?"

"I-I, I don't know-" (The sadness rushed in again. Perci stepping back trying not to get sliced in two by its sharp claws.)

"CICI, PLEASE!!" (You heared Merlon scream. She was gripping her book tight, fear on their face.)

"I'm, I-I'm fine! I can't, can't risk--"

(He was cut off by a scream from the sadness. It looked at him dead in the eyes. And a moment later, he was frozen in time.)

"NO!"

(You felt a powerful blast of energy wash over you like a firestorm. You blink only for a second, but suddenly the sadness was between you and the storm. You glanced back, Ramos had scooped Bonnie up and was shielding them with their body.)

(When the scene cleared, Merlon was standing in front of Perci's frozen body. Her hands crackled with energy that looked like, light. You got a headache.)

(You smelled sugar. You smelled it stronger than you ever had before.)

(The sadness rushed at them and swiped. Merlon held a hand up and it looked like light itself stopped the sadness in its tracks. That didn't stop it, it was attacking relentlessly.)

"Change. . ." (You mutter, before readying your rapier again.)

"I-I. ." (Ramos' voice, they and Bonnie had finally caught up.) "I know them, where do I-"

"Ramos? You, joined the, saviors?" (Merlon was panting between each breath. She was focused on making those panels of light.) "That, that doesn't matter! L-lady Mirabelle-"

"Stop talking!!!" (Bonnie yells back, they were brandishing their frying pan like a strong little warrior.) "Just stop talking!!! You hurt 'Frin!!! And 'Belle!!

"I-I'm sorry, just, please-"

"It was you!" (Ramos gripped their tonfas.) "You're the one who, who-"

"Please! Just unfreeze him, Housemaiden!!"

(You hesitate at their voice. You knew that tone, desperation, devotion, it was a similar tone Isabeau had when Siffrin passed out for a week.)

"Undo the mind craft." (You respond.) "Release my friends and everyone here, a-and I'll unfreeze him."

"What!?!"

"'B-Belle???"

"Done." (They reached their hand into a pocket and pulled out a star charm. She threw it out, the sadness pounced on it and stabbed, stabbed, and stabbed over and over again.) "A backup in case we had to leave. I-I, I don't know how to prove my intent, apart from that."

". . ." (They could be lying to you. You had your doubts, your fears. However, between her and Perci, she had been the more honest and straight forward.) "Fine."

(You storm up to the frozen antagonist, breathe in, and out. You clap, and in wink, he was moving again. Gasping, glancing between you all.)

"I-I, did it, just-" (He started.)

(Merlon grabbed his arm and held him close. She looked at you. Her eyes were. . . Hard to read.) "Thank you, Housemaiden. We're leaving."

(Before anyone could protest, including Perci, Merlon snapped her fingers, and in a flash of light, they dissapeared.)

". . . . . . . . ."

". . . . . . . . ."

". . . . . . . . What the CRAB?!?"

(Your mouth felt numb. A-actually, your whole body was numb.)

"H-how, how did they, how did they do that?!?" (Ramos was looking dumbstruck and where the duo had dissapeared.) "What, what kinda craft was. . ."

"What's th'sadness doing?" (Bonnie tugged on your skirt- THE SADNESS!!!)

(You turn, the sadness was still stabbing at what little remained of the star charm. Why wasn't it attacking? You all stared at it before you turned back to Ramos and Bonnie.) "I-I'll, deal with it. Go help Siffrin, t-they looped far too much and passed out."

"Stupid crabface." (Bonnie mumbled, before stomping over to Siffrin.)

". . ." (Ramos look away for a moment.) ". . . That, that was them, right? The two who. . ."

(You nod.) "It was. You're okay, Ramos."

(Ramos looks at you, smiling a little, before going to help Siffrin.)

(You turn back to the sadness.)

("When ones emotions and craft skills are strong enough, a sadness is created from their emotions alone." "Those who are frozen in time spawned their own, strong, Bonded Sadness. If you defeat them, the powerful craft and emotional energy will rebound on who created it." "we were able to beat the sadness, but then. . . I don't remember, but something bad happened.")

(You were bound to this sadness, weren't you. You don't know how, you don't know why, but, you knew this was your sadness. You stepped forward, slowly. This was your emotions made form, wasn't it.)

(The sadness looked up at you. Stared at you. You felt a wave of emtions, you felt numb, yet, cold. You stood your ground.)

". . . . . . . . . . . H-hello-"

(The sadness tilted its head to the side, staring at you. Its gaze was cold and inquisitive. It was, testing you.)

". . . . . . . You're, me, aren't you."

{. . . . .}

(In a blurr, the sadness was in your face. Hands on the side of your head, staring at you with that uncovered, crying eye.)

{I CAN'T WAIT TO NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN.}

(The words sent shivers through your mind. You couldn't move, you couldn't think, that, that was your voice, wasn't it.)

"Do you want to kill me?"

{MAYBE.}{MAYBE YOU WON'T EVEN COME BACK TONIGHT.}{AND MAYBE YOU'LL STAY HERE. SMILING. SAYING IT'S OKAY. UNTILL. YOU. DIE.}

(The cold, creeping feeling was digging into your heart.) "But it's not okay."

{IT NEVER WAS.}

{IT NEVER WILL BE AGAIN.}

{IF ONLY YOU TALKED. IF ONLY YOU LET YOUR ROGUE KNOW YOUR WISH. IF ONLY YOU HAD EVER CONSIDERED MAKING YOURSELF MORE THAN JUST AN ICON.}

{THE CHANGE GODS FAVORITE DRESS UP DOLL.}

(. . . . . . .)

{YOU DON'T EVEN WANT TO CHANGE.}

{YOU MET CHANGE THEMSELF. AND YET YOU DON'T CHANGE.}

"I Change in the way that's right!"

{. . .}

(You voice was stunned. You needed to keep talking.) "Change is what I strive for! A-and yes, some things I can't Change, but not all Changes are good!!"

{YOU LOATH CHANGE, DON'T YOU.}

(. . .)

{YOU WANT TO RIP THOSE EARINGS OUT, TO LEAVE BLOODY HOLES WHERE TRADITION WOULD BE. YOU WANT TO TEAR OFF THE SYMBOL OF CHANGE, STAYING STAGNANT AND DEAD.}

(You reach your hands up, and put them to the side of your sadness face. You close your eyes.)

"I'm going to accept it."

{. . .}

". . . I know there's parts of me that will never change, and if that makes me a failure, I'll accept it."

(You breathe in, and out.)

"I'll accept it."

(You opened your eyes, the sadness was gone. You felt, exhausted. Tired.)

"Mira!!!"

"'Belle!!!"

(You turned to Ramos and Bonnie. Siffrin was slumped over Ramos' shoulders. Bonnie looked like they were ready to jump at the sadness that was no longer there. You smile at them.)

"I-Is siffrin okay?"

"I- Yeah they're okay but." (Ramos looked jumpy.) "A-are, are you?"

"I, not, really. I feel, very tired." (You wipe your tears away with your arm- oh, you're holding something?)

(You open your hand. There's a small stone. It looks like, frozen water. You could see the liquid moving under a hard surface.)

[. . . . . Mirabelle got the FROZEN CHARM.]

"Hey." (Bonnie was tugging on your arm.) "Lets go. You're tired, 'Frins tired. I'll make snacks, ok?"

"O-okay, Bonnie." (You smile and stand up, joining Bonnie and Ramos, and walk back.)

(. . . It had been a long day.)

[. . . . Mirabelle re-learned the skill HOLY CARE SHIELD.]

[. . . . Mirabelle also got a MEMORY OF FEELINGS.]

[When equipped, Memory of Feelings replaces "Holy Care Shield" with "Soothing Restful Song," an amazingly strong skill that freezes one opponent in time. However, it has an enormous craft cooldown.]

[shutupineedtothink]

Ok so my friend and I just recorded 4 HOURS of raw audio breaking down the OUAT pilot, season 1 finale, and discussing the show in general for our new podcast where we make each other watch episodes of our favorite shows and talk about them together. It’s exactly as fun as you would imagine. :)

But even after all that, I still have things I forgot to say or didn’t get to. So here’s a few of them:

1. “Evil” as addiction: the OUAT writers treat the concept of being evil like addiction/substance abuse which is really interesting and kind of a bold choice for a 2011 show about fairytales. Then within that structure they show basically the two choices you have when facing addiction: choose not to use and become a better, healed version of yourself (Regina) or keep using and stay stuck in your patterns and hurt everyone you love forever (Rumple). As a child of an alcoholic who has chosen the latter, I loved watching Regina’s journey in this context and while she stumbles a lot, she keeps striving to be good even though she gets the short end of the stick most of the time. And her North Star is always Henry, which I think is important to show that you don’t just change because you feel like it, there usually has to be the threat of something worse happening if you don’t change (in this case, losing Henry physically and emotionally).

2. Regina Mills might be the most psychologically complex and interesting character on prime time tv in the 2010s? Period??

3. I rambled a good bit in the podcast about the costumes and color symbolism but here’s a bit more for you: Once Regina is on team heroes she often wears some kind of red top (the hero’s color) with a black jacket/coat over it showing that she’s changed on the inside but she still *looks* like the evil queen on the outside and can now use that persona/power to her advantage instead of being consumed by it. By the end of S5 this contrasts with Emma who wears her signature red jacket but a black/white/gray sweater underneath, showing that she’s a little more of a mix of good and evil these days post-dark one. In a color sense, they’re almost mirror images of each other at this point, and it’s really cool.

4. I know a lot of people are really salty about how Emma’s light kind of dims toward S4, 5, 6, and I’m right there with you. Her character feels flatter, and honestly kind of depressed. Now idk if this was a real choice on the writers’/JMo’s part, if she was going through some stuff at this time and it just showed up in the character, or what. That said, it does track for me in a way, especially post-dark one. She should be kind of thrown off by everything that’s happened! She should be changed! I just wish they had done something with it instead of pretending it was normal. If Regina’s struggle with evil is analogous to addiction, why can’t Emma’s struggle with evil be analogous to depression? It would have been an interesting take. Somebody write the fic.

I could keep going but I’ll stop here for now. Stay tuned for the podcast!

[jo-harrington]

Ex Nihilo (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Difficult Family Relationships, Found Family, Set around Christmas but not explicitly Holiday-related.

Note: As we go into this holiday season and I'm reminded of some difficult things in my own past, I decided to write this for all of us who sometimes desperately wish that we were simply from nothing. It would certainly be easier that way.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

You don't know where you're going unless you know where you've been.

That's what everyone seemed to tell you when they found out about your "don't dwell on the past" mentality.

You moved forward. Worked on yourself. Always striving to be more, to be better. Reflection was for learning, not for obsessing. You were a product of your past, yes, but you would not be haunted by it.

It was one of the things you and Eddie agreed on when you first met.

It had been less of a meet cute and more of the hands of fate smashing the two of you together like a child making their toys kiss. But you were stuck together from that moment on. Embracing one another wholeheartedly and not entirely whole without each other. But if you were going to do this--take steps into the future together--you couldn't keep looking over your shoulders for the ghosts of your past to sneak up on you.

And that meant trust.

It was difficult early on, as you got to learn things about each other. You needed to constantly practice patience. The questions that usually came with getting to know someone new--getting to love someone new--were sometimes left unanswered. Sometimes it was simple things like why you didn't want to listen to that one Roxette cassette tape that had a permanent home in your glovebox. Other times it was something serious, like where he got those scars.

"I can't talk about it," one of you would say, insist.

Not won't, not don't-want-to. Can't.

And then it was behind you.

Buried beneath the seconds, minutes, hours of the nows and togethers and tomorrows that you could think about instead.

One day, the fractioned parts of yourself that remained in the shadows suddenly and unexpectedly came to light. Both of your secrets that weren't really secrets tangible and in your newly-shared living space.

Mail.

Nothing good ever came in the mail. Bills and notices from the government and chain letters.

And postcards.

Well, holiday cards in the form of postcards.

Two of them.

They were similar but so very different and you and Eddie both looked on in horror as groups of smiling faces stared up at you. Each of you recognizing one and not the other.

Yours. A family stared back at you. A father and mother and grown up children with their own partners and children. All standing in a wintry landscape in matching sweaters with arms slung around each other. One particular set of eyes stared into the camera, into your soul, burning you.

His. A different kind of family. A group of young adults, graduation caps all on their heads, a girl with short brown curls in the middle looking extremely proud of herself, and a boy whose laughter was so visibly boisterous you could practically hear it through the postcard. They all stood in front of a Christmas tree decorated with diplomas that rested on the branches, instead of ornaments.

"I didn't kn--" You and Eddie both speak the same words over one another, as in sync as you are.

"Who are th--" It happens again and this time you hold a hand over your mouth, emotion getting the better of you.

It's a moment you know you've both dreaded for a while, the willful ignorance of the past in favor of a blissful present. But it's here.

Nothing came from nothing.

"I didn't know that they had the new address," Eddie shrugged and crossed his arms over his torso. "My, uh...uncle must have told them."

His uncle who you know of but heard very little about. Had some kind of insurance or lawsuit payout and lived in a quiet little cabin by a lake so he could fish. Eddie had gone to see him...for his birthday maybe? He didn't really specify and you didn't ask.

You could now...

"Who are they?" you asked instead.

"Old friends." His smile is strained and almost looks like a grimace. "They were freshmen when I...well I mean, they're not anymore. Been through a lot of shit together though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He's tense, almost like any other words you ask will inflict stinging battle damage and he's preparing himself for it. His one hand scratches at his side--at his scars--like he does when he gets nervous.

You didn't want him to be nervous around you. That's not what you're here for.

"Eddie Munson, babysitting service," you said instead and flipped the postcard over. It says Merry Christmas from The Hoppers. No return address. Your eyes turned back to the kids' faces. No similarity. To Eddie or each other. Adopted? Didn't really matter. You didn't need to speculate, he would tell you if he wanted.

But he didn't want to. At least not now.

Instead he scoffed and shook his head with his crooked grin.

"No that's our other friend," he grabbed the card from you and inspected their faces a little closer, nose practically touching the cardstock. "Steve. Always the babysitter, he said."

"Uh huh."

Something in your chest opens up then, like your ribs snapping off to reveal a wide and ominous cavern, as he hesitantly points each of the kids out to you. A name, a quick fact, and a fond smile.

Nothing more, but it's still a lot...and it still feels like...

An obligation.

One you never felt with Eddie before.

You refuse to take your eyes off of his postcard, even though yours sits on the counter, right in your peripherals. You hesitate even when he finishes his introduction...explanation.

Finally you pick it up, holding it delicately at the corners, as though putting your fingerprints on the picture will somehow bond you to the people contained within.

The words are lodged in your throat. Things you...really...

You don't want to say them but they're there.

This kind of thing will show up from time to time.

That's Michael and that's Simon. I didn't even know Simon got married, wow.

The last time I saw them was...5 years ago? 10?

And that's...

You cleared your throat and the words flew out, violently like you were given some pseudo-Heimlich maneuver. A piece of your life, a piece of your identity, choked and spat into the room. It smacked against Eddie's chest and fell wetly, disgustingly to the floor.

"That's my family."

He sensed your discomfort immediately.

"You don't have to--"

"No," you stopped him. "I want to."

"No you don't."

"No I don't. But I want you...to know. At least a little."

He huddled close to you, closer than you already were when he showed you his own postcard. You don't take the lead though and he awkwardly pointed out where this person has your eyes and that's your smile.

You're not sure if he did it so you could just focus on you and not them but it does help. It helps to see a younger version of yourself in your niece and the same crinkles of your eyes in your brothers.

"And who's this asshole?" he asked, pointing to...

"Uhm..." you're hesitant. "That's Mark."

You haven't called him dad in a while. Not even in your head.

"Her?"

"Mary."

And she's been his wife for years but you've never called your step-mother anything other than her name since you met her.

Eddie remained silent for a moment and you wondered if he knew. Maybe when you guys combined your rolodexes in the first week of living together and you stood by the phone trying to figure out whether it should be alphabetized by first name (his) or last name (yours), he noticed the stack of contacts that shared the same last name as you. Phone numbers that, again, hadn't been dialed in years.

Keep them, your mom had told you way back when. In case of emergencies. Better safe than sorry.

She, like Eddie's uncle, probably shared your new address as well.

You don't know whether to thank her or curse her now, as you hold your breath and wait for Eddie to say something.

Your mind raced and you wondered whether or not to speak first instead. If he wanted some kind of story from your family, from your past, you could run to the closet and pull out a picture of your grandma, tell him about her instead. Or maybe he'd want to know about the great grandfather whose name you found in a book at Ellis Island some time ago, who worked on the railroad and had eight siblings who all died before they turned 18. Some strange family curse he avoided.

Anything, anything, anything but them.

He inhaled.

"They look like they're boring," he chuckled. "Matching sweaters? Seriously?"

"Mary picks them out," you explained. "And yeah. She is pretty boring."

"I don't want them on the fridge with my magnets." You smacked your hand against his chest weakly. "What?"

"Your magnets?"

"You know how many garage sales I had to go to so I could find all of the Campbell's soup cans? Michael and Scottie and Mork's lovely Sears Catalog sweaters are gonna make the Cream of Mushroom look like trash. Pass."

He yoinked the postcard from your hand and tossed it over his shoulder, and you felt a weight lift off your chest.

Out of sight out of mind.

Eddie turned you to face him and cupped your cheeks in his hands, whispered words of thanks and praise and reassurance as he pecked kisses around your face. And when he was done, you returned the favor.

Neither you or Eddie liked to dwell on the past, but you could acknowledge it when it decided to pop up from time to time.

Because nothing came from nothing.

If it did, the two of you wouldn't have ended up here.

Together.

[transbianmuffin]

Memories pt. 2

cw hopefully last transphobia, slurs, ptsd, bullism, death

********

[Sergeant] "Ok you bunch of pussies. In two hours we will make contact with the weed vessel. I want to see them burn. I want to know if they can scream and how high. No mercy, no POW. This is the day for which you've trained your whole life and..."

"Those wouldn't be POWs..."

[Frederick] "Oh my fucking god."

[Neil] "Told you that she wants to be fucked by weeds."

[Sergeant] "I'm sorry princess, my terminology doesn't appeal to your taste? You're right. Those weeds wouldn't be POWs. Those are fucking monsters that deserve to die."

"What I meant is that there is no war. They already won it...that's why we are the 'resistance' right?"

[Frederick] "Weed-fucker..."

[Sergeant] "You leave me no choice. You've crossed the line one last time, princess. You are exonerated from this mission. You will wait in the ship..."

[Frederick] "Yeah even because, can you imagine her actually shooting? She will start to cry and miss at best., if not hitting at us"

[Sergeant] "...and when we are back you can say good bye to your meds forever. I don't fucking care about the doctor's orders or whatever. I WILL make you a warrior. I don't care how much I have to BREAK you."

I don't care.

I hate you.

I hate you all.

We could be at peace and you strive for war again and again and again.

********

"Who would ever thought that those memories were so rooted within her that even Class-B would fail. I hope the variant that Psylocra gave me will work better."

"M- Mist..."

"Sleep my floret. Sleep. I'm here, everything is fine."

"I kil- I killed t-"

"Hush my beloved. You didn't do anything, those nightmares aren't real. You've always been with me, remember? I found you on a field of tulips and I've never left you. Now make your Mistress happy and sleep."

"I- happy... I goo- floret."

"You are the best floret an Affini could ever wish for, Deena."

********

Smoke.

Smoke everywhere.

Mask.

Fuck fuck what did I do fuck fuck shit oh god oh god oh god

Air.

I need air.

I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die

...

...

...

Light?

Where am I?

An Affini what the hell god it's eerie I'm scared I'm scared fuck fuck fuck

"Hello little terran, do you remeber your name?"

"Y- yes, I'm Deena."

"Mh, this doesn't seem correct. Oh wait. Yes it is. Roots you terrans really have to format your documentation better.

If that's your actual name why is it's only stated in a footnote?"

"I- "

My god she's so tall towering imposing and her stare I'm scared fuck fuck fuck

"It doens't matter. Now little terran, I have a most troublesome situation for which I think your help would be extremely valuable and much needed. Would you want to help me untangle this little mistery?"

"W- where..."

"Where are you? Oh yes, sorry. You are safe with us, with me. You have nothing to fear or worry about."

"..."

"I know that trust is a hard thing to concede for you little ones. So I'll introduce myself first and after that I'd love for you to do the same.

I am Sinea Chloratea, second bloom. I am a senior investigator officer for the Affini Compact dispatch in the Jupiter area. I don't mean any harm to you. In fact I find you extremely cute.

Your turn, dear."

"I- I am Deena. I am. I am. Scared."

"That's understandable, darling. Let me help you a bit here.

One day ago an unidentified terran vessel literaly crashed against one of our vessels.

A vessel which was carrying a very important scientist of ours. Now the terran vessel was more than expected. You are so cute when you think that our intelligence can't break through your, hehe, 'encrypted' communications.

Fact is that the vessel crashed against ours, we were expecting eight terrans, pretty well equipped trying to breach our hull and break in, but..."

"B-but?"

"But nothing happened. So, after a while, WE had to break in.

Now here's the funny part: a pretty thick smoke had oversaturated the inner cabin and we found seven corpses lying around.

All of them armed and presumably ready to attack.

We also found a curious amount of triggered smoke grenades.

Seven death terrans. We expected eight."

"Y-yes."

"Yes and we found the eight one. We found you lying almost lifeless, with a gas mask on. The only one with a gas mask on."

"I- "

"My dear, you seem pretty stressed. Maybe you want something to relax? Here, you can drink it if you want it. I promise it's nothing harmful, it will just... help with the memories."

Water?

No.

One of their drugs.

Don't care, I'm probably already dead.

I'm thirsty at least if I'm dying I will be high as fuck.

"Yes, good girl. Now I would love to hear this story from your point of view. Could you do that for me?"

Dizzy I feel so dizzy I must tell her no she's an Affini I must she seems so kind so kind finally kindness finally finally finally peace

"I killed them I killed them all they were cruel with me I never wanted to join them but I was an orphan I had nowhere to go and they took me in they treated me bad so I killed them I killed them all they wanted to kill you but I killed them I- I- I- I want kindness."

"Kindness? Oh I can certainly provide that. Stars you poor thing went through a lot. You don't deserve that, as cute as you are. You did good in telling me, you've been a good girl."

A good girl yes thank you thank you thank you finally kindness finally kindness

"Now, you're doing a wonderful job here, dear.

Unfortunately I need a last bit of information.

We understand that your vessel, well, former vessel central command control was connected to a bigger intranet. We could break the encription key but it'd take at least a couple of days and it's all wasted time, I think you can understand that.

"Yes. You need the key."

"I don't really need it but I'd like to not waste time, and besides it will prove that you truly are a good girl. A very cute one, I may say."

I am a good girl, yes yes thank you thank you thank you good girl I am a good girl

"The oldest one the Sergeant he had an implant behind his left eye that implant contains a genetic password that will grant you access to the rebel intranet I know it please please please tell te- sorry it's a bit hard to think straight.."

"Tell what?"

Tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl tell me I'm a good girl

"..."

"My dear you're safe here, you can trust me, tell what?"

"T- tell me I'm a good girl."

"Oh sweetie. You are the goodest of the girls."

"..."

"Are you crying? Dirt, you are so extremely cute. Now you've sustained pretty big injuries to both your respiratory and limbic system. Nothing we can't take care of obviously and we will take care of you. Great care of you. You'll need some more time resting here in the xeno infirmary..."

"Th- thank you."

"...no need to thank me, little one. It's me who's thanking you. You've been so good.

I was saying: when you're done here would you mind to spend some time with me? I'd love to show you around our main vessel."

"Yes, yes please."

"Such a good girl. Rest now, soon we'll be together again."

Finally kindess finally peace

********