#but like also I'm unsure how to talk with them
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paradiseprincesss · 1 day ago
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˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 | Jonathan Crane
𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢.
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𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Hello my angels! I haven't posted in a while & I was on a little writing hiatus due putting my mental health first, but I am slowly coming back to writing! I'm not sure when I will write another fic/have the time to, though! Also sorry in advance for any grammar errors as I barely proofread thiiiiiis!
𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Your mentor, Doctor Jonathan Crane, coerced you into making a sex tape as a means to keep you silent about what you saw, and for the night, you become a star on camera for him.
𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 2.9k
𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY DUBCON, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, sex tape, drugging, stockholm syndrome(?), blackmail & coercion
𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You stared at him silently from the bed, unsure what to say next. The atmosphere wasn’t tense by any means, but it was heavy. The air – the air was heavy. Jonathan silently stared you down in his suit, standing beside the blinking camera on a tripod. 
This wasn’t your idea. You’d have never agreed if he hadn’t forced you to.
But somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you’d made the decision long before he even mentioned it.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Jonathan Crane was your colleague – or rather mentor. You had been offered a position to work under the renowned Doctor at Arkham Asylum at the beginning of your practicum last month, and although most people would shiver at the thought of working with the criminally insane, you jumped at the opportunity. This would most definitely advance your chances of getting a coveted job post-graduation, and you were willing to do whatever it took. 
The last few weeks had been chaotic but thrilling; you’d shadow Crane around Arkham as he treated his patients and wrote down evaluations — whatever he was doing for the day. However, one evening, you went to his office to ask him a question you’d had, only to walk into a scene that caused your jaw to drop. 
Lay slumped over on Jonathan’s office desk was a patient – patient #20373 to be precise – who appeared to be…not breathing. Your eyes darted from the patient to Crane himself, who was now rushing to slam and lock the door to his office behind you. You don’t quite remember everything that happened after that. 
One thing you do remember though – and you doubt you’ll ever forget – is waking up in a cushiony room on a bed, groggy and half awake until Jonathan came into your line of vision. You tried to cry, or sob, or do anything, really, but your mind was going four ways and you couldn’t seem to process what was happening. 
“Did you drug me?” You rasped with watery eyes, your hands reaching to your throat out of instinct. 
“I did what had to be done. What you saw – what you think you saw…” He corrected himself, “I can’t risk anyone finding out about that.” 
“I- Okay, I won’t tell anyone, just please–”
He shushed your panicked voice as he eyed you down the way a predator would do to its prey. “I want to trust you, I do — but I can’t.” 
You watched as he stepped closer to you, and you noticed that even though you wanted to run, your body was seemingly too weak. Too heavy.
“I’m working on a clinical trial,” he informed you. “I’m observing the neurological patterns of patients exposed to their deepest, darkest fears. Unfortunately, like with all clinical trials, there are sometimes…flukes. Accidents. Some patients don’t react properly to the medication in the way we want them to. Dosage errors, genetic factors, allergies…the list goes on. What you think you saw was just that — a medical error.” 
You tried to talk, but for some reason, you couldn’t – you were floored, to say the least. He seemed to take notice of this, and he cooed softly as he came to pet your head gently. “I know,” he feigned sympathy, “you must be so out of it.”
“What did you do to me?” You choked out, failing to swat his hand away from you. “How–?”
“A fast-acting sedative and a small syringe,” he interrupted, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Poor thing, you were out cold before your brain could even register what was happening.”
“You…God, you’re fucking sick.” You let out a choked sob as he smirked at you, clearly amused. 
“I’d like to return to our previous topic of discussion.” His tone shifted back into his usual, clinical one. “Although I'm quite certain you won’t speak a word of what you saw earlier to anyone, I need something from you. Think of it as an eye for an eye — that sort of thing.”
Blackmail, you thought to yourself, he wants blackmail so that he can have something to hang over my head. 
At that very moment, you noticed a camera propped up on a tripod in the corner of the room, causing your mouth to go dry. 
“You– Doctor Crane, you don’t have to do this…” You almost whispered as a tear ran down your cheek at the realization of the type of blackmail he had in mind.
“Jonathan,” he corrected, “I’d like to believe we’re on a first-name basis by now, wouldn’t you?” He sighed, looking at you through his glasses with his steel blue eyes. You’d be lying if you said you never found him even slightly attractive, and sure…maybe you’d fantasized about him once or twice in bed all alone at night, but what you had in mind was different – innocent. It was just that; a fantasy. 
“I–I don’t know what you want from me,” you stammered, feeling your stomach twist in knots. 
“What do I want from you?” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Simple. You and I are going to make a little…project. Something personal. Something memorable.” You felt sick as you failed to form a response. “You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. I thought you’d have more to say, perhaps even put up a fight.” 
“You’re disgusting,” you spat, finding your voice again. “I’ll never—”
“You will,” Jonathan interrupted, his tone sharp and menacing. He smiled softly at you, a juxtaposition to his cruel, mocking tone from mere minutes ago, and he was eerily calm. “Because if you want to keep even a shred of your dignity, your reputation, your job, or your life—”
“Fine,” you panicked as he went on with the list and gave in as your voice dropped to a whisper, “just…just don’t hurt me.”
He smiled faintly. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
He didn’t bother waiting for you to reply before moving the camera and tripod to the edge of the bed, watching you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t even dare to attempt to get up or do anything that would indicate you would try and fight back. 
Once he set everything up, you looked at him with watery eyes, which caused him to feign worry and coo mockingly at you. He towered over you as he stood at the edge of the bed where you sat, and he took your face into his hands, forcing you to look up at him. 
“I want to hear you talking dirty.” His words sent a chill down your spine, and even though you’d tried to break eye contact, he forced you to look at him once more. “I want to feel you put the work in.” 
“Please—”
“I want to watch you entertain.” 
You watched as he turned his attention back to the camera and tripod. He toyed with it momentarily before it made a small beep sound, and a flashing red light started to blink. 
“Is it on?” Your voice noticeably trembled.
“Yeah, it’s on.” His voice was eerily relaxed.
Your hands were shaking – which you hadn’t even realized until now – and you nodded, unable to do much more. He didn’t say anything yet, but he looked at you with a menacing stare, causing your blood to run colder than it already was.
You weren’t even sure you had a pulse at this point.
“Strip,” he suddenly ordered, causing you to grimace. “Fucking strip.” 
Scrambling on the bed with your eyes darting from the camera back to Jonathan, you do as told with trembling hands. Hastily, you attempted to rid yourself of your clothing before you choked on a gasp as you felt Jonathan yank you back by your hair with a harsh grip. 
“Slowly,” he purred, knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping onto your hair, before letting go after what felt like a lifetime. “I want you to savour the moment you gave yourself up to me.” 
You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth – that, yes, you’d given yourself to him long before this moment. Not with your body, but with every line you let him blur until you could no longer tell where you ended, and he began. 
You gave yourself up to him unknowingly when you caught him “treating” his patients with his fear toxin on countless other occasions and yet, you didn’t say a word because you were blindsided by how pathetically attracted you were to him. 
This time, you just happened to get caught, and he acted on impulse, forcing you to surrender.
But this wasn’t really surrender. This was inevitability.
Once you were left in just your underwear, you were a shivering, doe-eyed mess. Although, it seemed Jonathan preferred you this way. “You’re such a good girl,” he cooed, hands coming to brush up against your neck gently. “God, you truly are pretty.” 
His words were sickeningly sweet; as if he wasn’t keeping you here, forcing you to film a sex tape as blackmail for yourself. 
But was it force when you’d handed him the reins so long ago, piece by trembling piece?
“You're so soft,” he mumbled, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek as he moved your hair out of the way, exposing your neck, to which he placed another kiss.
“...Jonathan, please.”
Your voice came out soft – quiet – and it had this tremble within it because you were free-falling. One moment he had you quivering in fear, and the next, he was the same soft-spoken, intellectual, kind mentor you had found rather endearing before all…this. Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you, maybe it was even a coping mechanism – but if it helped you believe that you didn’t somehow allow yourself to let him do this to you, then you welcomed that idea. 
Psychology is interesting. Human behaviour is interesting. 
“I know you better than you know yourself,” he whispered against your skin, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you shut your eyes. “Don’t lie to me — you love this. I’ve seen you snooping around my office, I know you’ve looked in my file cabinets…”
He continued speaking softly – not in a menacing way – but rather in a reassuring way, like he knew who you really were underneath this facade you put up. “I know that you know what I do within the walls of Arkham when nobody is looking — well, nobody except for you.”
“You’re so vile,” you whispered, leaning into his touch as you let his hands roam your body in front of the camera, not even attempting to deny it. 
“You’re just as vile for letting me do this to you,” he nipped your neck, causing you to let out a startled moan. “You know whose blood is on my hands, yet you let those same hands touch you.” 
The lines between sex, lies, and the ugly truth blurred in an instant as your hands found his shoulders. With a sharp pull, you placed your lips on his. Before he could react, you tugged him down onto the bed, the weight of him pressing against you like the inevitability of everything you’d already surrendered.
“Show me who you are,” he whispered, getting just enough distance between your lips in his to get the words out, and you didn’t need to be told twice. 
You pressed your lips up against his once more, feeling him intertwine his hands into your hair this time around. Your nails dug into his suit as you desperately tried to tug him out of it, falling deeper into the unholy temptation that was Jonathan Crane. He continued to kiss you as you rid him of his clothes, and in between kisses, you straddled him as his hands found purchase on your hips. 
You pulled back momentarily, glancing at him and noticing his glasses were slightly fogged up, but his eyes were still ever so blue through them. You smiled slightly before you started to unbutton his white, collared shirt that was under his suit jacket, while simultaneously trying to remove his tie fully.
Jonathan had no objections – he wanted to see how dirty you were willing to be. How filthy you would get on film…and that sparked an idea in his head.
Jonathan suddenly slammed you down onto the mattress within seconds, his shirt half undone and his tie hanging off his neck lazily before he was tugging your lace panties down your thighs. This was the moment that he decided even if he was supposedly blackmailing you, he needed to have his face buried in between your legs. 
“Jonathan,” you panted, looking down at him between your legs, his brilliantly blue eyes now much darker. “Wh-what are you doing?” 
He tossed your underwear to the side, offering no response before diving right in, devouring your cunt skillfully as his tongue darted through every single inch of you. You let out a sharp gasp before it turned into a moan. It was almost disgusting how good he was with his mouth. 
“Fuck,” you whined, hips arching upwards so that he could taste all of you, down to the last drop. 
“Delicious.” 
His voice was muffled as he ate you out, savouring the taste of you against his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it was too late to try and save yourself now – not that you really made any attempt before because here you were; getting eaten out by a man who supposedly drugged you and forced you into getting fucked on camera but hey,  it happens to the best of us... 
He licked your folds, gently nipping on your thighs or pressing kisses to them, before diving back into you as he lapped you up. Soon enough, you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build up as he sucked your clit gently, causing you to let out a rather loud moan. 
“I’m close,” you warned as your back arched off the mattress again, causing his grip on your thighs to become harsher, keeping you there. “God–”
He hummed in acknowledgement as you felt your release hit you all at once. He continued to eat you out as if you were his final meal until you were a shaking mess, begging him to give you a break as your legs shook.
Before you even had a chance to fully recover, you found yourself in yet another position he manhandled you into, this time face down ass up – and looking right at the camera. You heard his belt unbuckle from behind you before you let out a quiet gasp, feeling him line himself up with your entrance. 
You were plenty wet at this point, so soaked you could certainly feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Jonathan pushed himself into you desperately, filling you up fully with one, quick stroke before his hands gripped your hips. Your eyes screwed shut as he stretched you out around his cock, slamming his hips into your ass as he fucked you into oblivion. 
You babbled and moaned into the mattress as you felt yourself soak his length. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the camera with wide eyes and an already fucked out expression as he continued to plow you.
“Fuck,” he huffed, “you take cock like a professional. Atta’ girl.” 
The way his cock was angled inside of you was perfection. It was that perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that made it feel so good when he was fucking you – ruining you – and rearranging your insides. You could physically feel every inch of him fill you and stretch you out around his thickness, pounding you until you lost your ability to think about anything other than him filling your holes twenty-four fucking seven.
“Jonathan,” you feverishly said his name before letting out a moan so pornographic, that it even caught Jonathan by surprise – a good surprise though, nonetheless. You continued to beg him to fuck you harder and harder, pleading with him for God knows what. “I need— nnghh – need you to fill me, yes—!’
“You’re a fuckin’ natural at this,” he gruffed, feeling himself edge closer to his release. “Look at you go, you’re such a slut, aren’t you, baby? Show the camera what a good girl you become when you’ve got my cock in you.”
“Mmm,” you drawled out a few more breathy moans before neither of you could go any longer. 
Jonathan cursed under his breath before he filled you up with his come, stuffing you full of it as his thrusts slowed down. Simultaneously, you were clenching down on him as you drenched his cock with his hands still intertwined in your hair lazily. 
You stared at the red light which was still blinking before Jonathan finally let his grip on your hair go, making you sigh with relief. He was still buried in your warm, wet cunt as you looked over your shoulder, silently admiring the way his blue eyes pierced through you. His hair was slightly dishevelled and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were a bit pink, but you were soon pulled out of your thoughts as he let out a soft, breathy laugh.
“You’re a fuckin’ star, babydoll.” 
But the difference between a pornstar and you? They know what they’ve signed up for. 
You on the other hand? You’re drowning in a role written for you, simply too blind to see who’s holding the pen.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:
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madly-enthusiastic · 16 hours ago
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Uhhh, GUYS.
I think I wrote the first chapter of a Radioapple fanfic...
Just- Tell me if it's good, 'kay? It still doesn't have a name cuz it's a work in progress so, I'm still thinking of a name, I can't ask you for help with the name without telling all the story's AU so, I'll resort to the one thing I trust. My sister.
______
How much love can a parent express for its child?
If you asked Lucifer, he'd start rambling about how much his daughter is an amazing woman, already planning her own hotel with... redemption?
"Redemption, you say?" A voice Lucifer much liked and adored asked.
"Yeah... It's a bit silly and in my opinion, impossible even. But I trust her and I know she'll reach great lengths, heck, maybe Heaven itself!" He answered back, chuckling a bit. "I'm currently helping her to find a territory she can estabilish as hers, I could just give her a part of my territory but she says she wants to win something on her own. Regardless of what she wants or needs, I'm very proud of her!" He soon added, gesturing vaguely to the North as to show where the hotel was most likely to be constructed.
A comfortable minute is passed between them until the soft laugh from Lucifer's company interrupts it.
"Perhaps I'll visit it later."
​_______
Lucifer's dream was interrupted by the sound of his alarm going off, he groggily sat up on his bed before he slipped his hooved feet in his duck slippers. Another dream, another memory, I guess... Lucifer thought as he stood up, letting his wings strech so his back wouldn't feel sore later on.
He grabbed his phone and checked the messages he received. Satan's email for a new meeting... Charlie inviting me over... Goetias- He froze for a minute before he checked his phone again to make sure he didn't misread it. Charlie is inviting me over?!
Needless to say he cleared his agenda just so he could visit his daughter, it has been 7 years since they last spoke after... No! Don't think of that, Lucifer! Think of your precious daughter and how she invited you over despite years of not talking to her! Lucifer interrupted himself from going to dark memories.
He took a deep breath before he called her. Thankfully, Charlie picked up right away as if she was expecting her dad to call back.
"Oh! Hey Dad!" Her voice was like music to Lucifer's ears, it had been so long since he spoke with her, he almost forgot how the sound of his daughter's voice was!
"Hey Char-Char! I... just read your message, are you inviting me over to that hotel of yours? What was it again... The... Happy Hotel?" He asked, unsure if he got the name right.
"Ah, yes, dad! Actually, we changed it to the Hazbin Hotel! I had some help with the name!" She answered, happy that her dad remembered the hotel's old name, it meant that he was interested enough to learn it.
Thank Father. Lucifer thought, letting out a sigh of relief that didn't go past his daughter but she just laughed at it. "Sorry for the reaction, Char-Char... The old name was horrible, I never said anything 'cause I wanted to support you." He explained, chuckling awkwardly.
"It's alright dad! I don't blame you for that, the old name was... something, I guess? Well! What do you think of the new name? Is it hellish and ducking enough for you?"
Lucifer couldn't see Charlie's expression, but he was sure she was grinning while he blushed heavily. He felt embarrassed whenever his daughter brought up his ducks but he tried to ignore her teasing and focus on her question.
"Well... The Hazbin Hotel does have a nice ring to it! I also liked the joke... The 'has been' hotel, it's somewhat clever, I guess!" He answered, the joke was funny enough to make Lucifer laugh, it remembered him of the dad's jokes he used to do with Charlie and his friends.
"I'm happy you like it! Anyway, I was wondering if you could visit us! I mean, I know your agenda is kinda tight and you must be pretty busy with Hell and stuff but—"
"No, no, no! Don't worry about that, I didn't had much to do today," Besides a maybe important meeting with Satan about Hell's hierarchy. Lucifer didn't say that part out loud, though. "I can arrive there in, uh, let me check... Two hours! Is that good for you, Charlie?"
Charlie stayed quiet on the other side of the line before she started jumping out of happiness (Lucifer couldn't see it but he assumed she was jumping by the sound of the ground being hit by a pair of hooves many times). "Yes, yes! That's perfect, dad! It's enough time for me to clean up the place, arrange some decorations and—" She stopped to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "... Thank you, dad. For everything, really."
Lucifer smiled as he heard his daughter. Even if he thought redemption was impossible, he'd have support Charlie no matter what, he loved his daughter and there was nothing that could change that fact. "Don't thank me sweetie, you were the one that achieved that. Not me, I just helped you through it."
"I'm still thankful, dad. You helped me when I need and you keep helping me whenever I need something... You're an amazing dad. I love you." Lucifer couldn't barely contain the tears that risked to fall from his eyes, but he held back until he answered he loved her back.
As Charlie hang up, Lucifer finally let the tears fall, they fell like a waterfall but he didn't try to stop them. His daughter still loves him after all, she still appreaciates all the silly things he did for her.
After a few minutes of crying, he wiped his eyes and checked the apple shaped clock on his bedroom. Two hours... He sighed, looking around the mess in his room. I could just teleport there but... I should get some things done before I visit Charlie, it's better to do it now than to do it later. And for the next two hours, Lucifer cleaned his room, organized his books, explained the situation to Satan, who was mad at him but he allowed Lucifer to postpone the meeting to Saturday. Thank Father...
When it was finally time to visit Charlie, Lucifer made sure to wear his best clothes. Charlie already knows me but what if she has residents there? Sure, this is Hell but it's better to be safe than sorry!
He took a deep breath before he opened the portal, staring at the hotel's door for two minutes before he stepped in.
It's time to do this.
____
AAAAAnd that's the end... It's more of an epilogue than a chapter, just to give a quick explanation on Charlie's relationship with Lucifer:
• Charlie and Lucifer's relationship is better than in the original series cuz Lucifer would have helped Charlie to create the hotel, they managed to bound through it
• Lucifer was an absent father, that is no difference, what changed was that his friends told him he should try to spend more time with Charlie and that's what he did
• Charlie and Lucifer stopped talking for 7 years after an event on both Charlie and Lucifer's lives that left them scarred, principally on Lucifer's side of the story.
And before you ask, there're some differences on my characters from the originals designs. For example: Lucifer has goat ears, Charlie has them too, both have hooves and it goes that way with many characters! Husk is the same cuz he's already perfect, Angel changed a bit and Nifty is... still Nifty.
Pretty please, tell me your thoughts about it!!
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somevillainfuckery · 6 months ago
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Well fuck-a-duck, I screwed up
Was gonna finally work on my other posts I planned on doing, since I started typing them and then just- randomly ditched them. Maybe mess around with the shitty AI stories kids site I found because its so stupidly bad its actually funny. Saw a very... unpleasant note from someone I know- no clue how to handle it. panicking. gonna go sob in the corner and question if getting attached to people was a good idea or not
my brain works in the weirdest ways, once second Im thankful for every living being I meet and get along with and then another second I'm regretting making my existence known to people
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bugmistake · 7 months ago
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i really am trying very hard to get better at not caring what people think of me but ummm. being rejected by my peers does still hurt a little!
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hsslilly-blog · 2 months ago
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#huntclaire#i was going to reblog this from the source but i didn't want to ramble in their mentions. this will be long#i've been thinking about this post for some days now and i couldn't write why it fit huntclaire so well but i think i can now#i like huntclaire because i do believe they bring out the best of each other but mostly. they bring out the worst of each other#<- and i think that's good. for their (eventual) relationship and for their individual characters#i think before hunt and claire can have a relationship they need to engage with each other in a sincere way. and they do not do that.#they are incapable of that. they're both stuck in their ideas of themselves/each other that they are simply blind to the reality of things#they are both... extremely flawed human beings. as we all are. but they're too self-important to realise that. which is another flaw#hunt thinks His arrogance is a virtue (delusional). claire thinks she's humble (also delusional).#both are very fond of pointing flaws in other people while being unaware of their own. they cannot TALK with each other as long as they#think like this. hunt needs to get over himself and claire needs to know herself#i must make you aware of things you do not see. unsure if it's meant to be taken just in a positive sense but i'm user wesposting#it's good when your partner challenges your idea of things. and i think these are two individuals that need to be constantly challenged#hunt needs someone to tell him to his face that he's kind of a dick sometimes. and claire needs someone to point out the flaws in her logic#they need to be questioned challenged they need to stop and think about themselves. they need to be wrong. only then they can be sincere#they need to be wrong and wrong again and then again. conflict between them is what moves them forward as characters#most of all they annoy each other so much because they see so much of themselves in one another. but acknowledging that is uncomfortable#it's uncomfortable to know yourself through the other#claire's case is interesting because she feels a ucs. Need to make hunt like her. but she's terribly unaware of what makes her unlikeable#<- she's fallen for her own façade. she needs to stop and dig through her bugs.#alsolol i like how both of them are hypocritical. i think it's fun when characters have double standards. i think they suck. but i like the#anyway i must make you aware of the things you do not see. there's things about each other that they also do not see. at first#when they are sincere. when they. Talk. hunt learns claire is not That brash and she can be very insightful when she wants to. does she kno#that? and like i Guess hunt can be caring sometimes even if he's like totally annoying and weird about it. whatever. does he know that?#the artist sees good and bad. they must also see the good and the bad in each other. i think.
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seaofreverie · 3 months ago
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The Me who bought tickets to see TMBG in february 2023 and the Me who's going to actually go to the show next month are two completely different people
#slash extremely negative#it's funny to actually live this whole sort of cliche of: the time between buying tickets and going to the show can be so absurdly long#with what was supposed to be my 1st 'real' concert no less#'i bought the tickets as a teenager but i'm going to see them in my 20s etc' and stuff like that#and then when it gets rescheduled too... well. a year and 9 months is in fact a pretty long time!!!#and i'm not even talking about rescheduling due to covid because god at least i didn't have to deal with that i guess#(it IS funny though that by the time the 30th anniversary of flood tour ends#flood will be 2 months away from turning 35. so yeah lmao a lot happened in the meantime huh)#anyways day two of going crazy going insane for no reason other than well i guess that's just my life now!!!!! 😃😃😃#me when i say i'll stop documenting my rapidly progressing mental breakdown online and then keep doing it anyway#but idk maybe this will heal me in some way. my only hope rn no joke#and my mom actually seemed to be unsure if i we should book the hotels and stuff because. ig i'm this obviously unwell even over the phone#but BY GOD this is the only thing i can really look forward to right now i really need this to survive#(trying to forget how i was doing in september of last year when they rescheduled the tour#and i couldn't even be sure if i'd ever get to see them in the end lollllll#and at the heights of my tmbg obsession this was my number 1 dream. i mean it still is)#also i think i'm finally entering my tmbg autumn era now with some more frequent listening after not doing so for a while#how could i let myself pretty much forget that i love tmbg??? and that their music is so good and makes me happy???#they're still my fav band of all time just like they were back then. THAT didn't change at least#it's just that now they share that spot with sparks also lol. can't choose between them and why should i anyway#what else. ig i just hope i get the energy to finally draw tomorrow at least#because if i don't turn the ideas i have into reality then they will never become real! and that would be so sad#so maybe this can be my main reason to continue for now. whatever#goosepost
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turtlemagnum · 6 months ago
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when i was younger and hung out around my uncle a lot more than i do now, i remember whenever he referred to things regarding his native heritage, he always just called it "indian". called himself an indian, called the words he taught us indian, so on. since i was a little kid who didn't know any better, i didn't know that "indian" in the context of indigenous americans was a very broad, frankly bastardized term to paint a vast variety of cultures spanning two whole damn continents with one brush. it only occurred to me as i got much older than i was at the time that there'd be more than one "indian" language, and up until now since i had no idea what tribe(s) he even is i couldn't even begin to know where to look unless i found a download of every goddamn interlingual dictionary available and painstakingly checked every godddamn one for what their word for "thunder" is
the word he taught us meant thunder was hiloha. i didn't even know how to spell it until now, because he only ever said it aloud. literally just a few minutes ago, i decided to ask my grandma (his sister) if we knew what tribe(s) he belonged to. and apparently he's a mix of choctaw and makah. which gave me a lead, which led to me finding a dictionary on libgen, which led to me word searching "thunder" in the choctaw to english dictionary. it's the only word i remember him teaching us, and i'm unsure if he ever tried teaching us others. but it was his dogs name, and he was a damn good boy, so i remembered it clear as day. though, they normally shortened it to "hilo".
so, i guess what came out of this is that i now know a bit more about my uncle's heritage, and where to look for more research. so, if you're gonna have a takeaway from this, i'd appreciate it if you remembered the word "hiloha". it means thunder. and aside from being the name of a very good boy who deserves to be remembered, i think it's even more important to remember the histories, cultures, and of course the languages of all the indigenous folks who came before us and did their damndest to preserve their cultures in spite of it all.
#honestly a bit unsure if he was just simplifying it all down for us little idiot kids or not#regardless i think it's an important memory to keep alive#writing this up got me thinking about my time spent over at his place when i was real young. we spent a thanksgiving or two over there#both him and his wife were alcoholics at the time. she probably still is but she's been out of their lives for a while#i remember huddling in the corner with my cousin and my mom while they both fought. i distinctly remember her slapping him over the head#with a TV remote. not a very happy thanksgiving that one#it occurred to me while remembering this that there's definitely some kind of bitter irony to a white woman abusing a native man and his so#on thanksgiving. not even mentioning just a (mostly) native family having a bad thanksgiving in general. a bitter memory all around#god she was a cunt. talked shit about welfare queens and people on food stamps while me and my mom bought her food with our food stamps#claimed to be a vegetarian because how much she loved animals but still regularly ate bacon#i definitely don't remember my uncle being perfect in that relationship but i also definitely remember her being far worse#i'm almost certain it was mutual abuse but there's definitely a reason why my uncle's still in my cousin's life and mother isn't#aside from the fact that she did in fact abandon them and start a new family#as far as i know my uncle's recovered from his alcoholism and she hasn't. which itself wouldn't be a sin if she wasn't also naturally just#nasty piece of vaguely human looking garbage even without the alcohol#the way i understand it alcohol usually doesn't change who a person is at their core. it just amplifies who they already are#my grandpa's a very loving man and while i've never seen him get outright drunk i'm told he's very sweet and cuddly#saying this feels like a bit of a blanket statement but i definitely feel like for the most part if someone is an abusive piece of shit#while drunk they're also a lot more likely to be an abusive piece of shit sober#i've heard that some people are sweet and kind sober and turn nasty when drunk. i've never seen that firsthand but i'm sure it's entirely#possible. i can't speak whether it actually reveals who they really are or what. i'm not a psychologist#im rambling. oh well!#i'm glad that my cousin and uncle seem to be in a better place now. got their shit together#that's what matters
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lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar · 2 years ago
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have you heard a band called mud also? and angel? not the american one but an english one, and, pretty sure you know about it, they were also produced and managed by mick and andy who also wrote their two a-side singles! i think they're very good
yes! i watched a couple of videos from mud, but that's about it. i keep meaning to look into more from them, but haven't yet. (i'm not sure yet but i was thinking of doing some of their videos and some other bands, like slade and showaddywaddy(probably some 80's videos again like i used to too), after i run out of sweet videos to help me learn more but shhhh don't tell anyone)
i haven't heard anything from angel, but i did find this picture somewhere:
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thedarklyblue · 2 years ago
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ughhhh
#.txt#wish i could be confident in my opinions!!#currently stressed because i'm using one name at school and another at home and havent had that conversation with my parents#(which makes it tough bc like. if they come see a show i worked on. there's that one in the program and i didn't tell them.)#((out to them as nonbinary but they went :/ are you sure so i have not been pushing the issue))#and i get a nyt subscription as a student and my evening update just sent me an article about parents whose kids are socially transitioning#and the schools aren't telling them#and i GET it you feel betrayed. you feel not trusted as a parent.#and i fully understand being unsure and hesitant. but something about this is rubbing#me the wrong way. it's still so important to give kids room to experiment and explore!#if you're going to look at your kid figuring out their identity and go 'oh well you're clearly not sure so i don't believe you' then they'll#work on it by themselves.#and then when they come to you and say this is who i am you'll go 'oh it's so sudden!! how could you not tell me i think this is a fad'#and this is such a weird balancing game and i really hate how the article covered it and now i'm fucking ANXIOUS#i just want to live!! also when you're like oh how can you be sure. how the FUCK are we supposed to figure it out without trying things?????#not everything is a fucking life-changing decision sometimes you just have to do shit#wish i hadn't read that article but uh nothing i can do about it now#i hate realizing that everything i have figured out here (how to explain myself to people#how to talk to profs about who i am)#doesn't do shit for me in the other contexts i live in#also living the 'do i come out to grandparents or do i for sure inherit money for top surgery' which feels gross but idkkkkk#anyway. Bad Brain Evening. thanks
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baekuras · 1 year ago
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nevermind i was wrong with my expectations on how much I'd enjoy Nightmare time (aka short theatre over zoom)-this fucking slaps
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suiana · 3 months ago
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yandere! gamer boyfriends who are always gaming and leave you alone.
they have you questioning everything and anything about your relationship. was it all just a joke? is he cheating on you? why doesn't he show you affection?
and it's not that he doesn't want to, it's that he doesn't know how to.
he's spent his whole life gaming and huddled up in his little room that he forgot how relationships work. he feels so bad whenever he sees you moping around. so he does what he thinks is best.
"baby, what do you mean you don't like my gift?"
he thought you'd like his gift. i mean, you were complaining about this person for a whole now, he thought you'd want them gone...
a picture of them in his basement, all tied up while he poses cutely for the camera.
he thought that would be enough to please you, but it turns out he was wrong. you didn't like it at all. in fact, you called him a monster and even tried to break up with him!
"baby calm down, I'm just trying to make you happy."
he's pouting now, unsure of what to do. he doesn't know how to be sweet. he was never shown taught how to be loving and sweet. he doesn't know how to be a normal and sweet boyfriend.
"why don't you tell me what you want then? i just want to see you happy you know."
he really does. i mean, even if he doesn't show it, his heart and mind both belong to you. while he's gaming, you're all he can think about. actually, when he's doing anything for that matter, you're the only one on his mind. he can never think like how he used to before and it's all because of you.
"leave you alone? baby you're upset at me and I'm not leaving you alone. why can't we just talk things out?"
he refuses to let you leave his sight and out of his grasp. what if you go to some other person? he can't have that now, can he? also, don't people talk things out in a relationship? why are you trying to get away from him?
"you're mine. so don't ever think about leaving me."
a sweet kiss to your lips is all it takes for you to calm down.
huh, maybe he should kiss you more then.
inumaki toge, GOJO SATORU (but specifically if he was a loser nerd), kinich, kenma kozume, chishiya shuntaro, all of your favs
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starberry-cupcake · 16 days ago
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I was re-watching the little mermaid and it got me thinking: it would have been so cool to be a guest to eric's weddings tbh
this guy's been raving about this mystery girl he says saved him and left him on the beach but nobody believes him, then he found a different girl in the same beach, proceeded to date her for a couple of days in front of the whole town, but then turns up with a different one (allegedly the first one) and decides he's marrying her on the spot
and you're like, sure, I need to see this mess
so you go to the wedding and it's WILD: there's some sort of animal riot, every creature is attacking the bride (including the prince's dog), town date redhead is being carried into the wedding ship in a barrel by a small fish, you're like 'I need to see how this turns out' and then mystery redhead, who was supposedly unable to talk, starts singing???? and talking??? and they're about to kiss???? but then the bride turns into sexy cthulhu???? and the redhead grows a fish tail???? and sexy cthulhu bride drags redhead into the water??????
you are taken ashore while the groom goes to fetch one of the brides, unsure which but all signs point to the redhead that was carried in the barrel, and then there's a storm, and sexy cthulhu becomes gigantic and is wearing a crown and you're like 'work, bitch' while eating snacks and then it's all over and sexy cthulhu disappears
but then there's another wedding announced and you're like 'I'm sure it can't top the first one' but you attend and TRITON shows up too????? myth and legend lord of the sea king triton from the stories????? with a white beard and an 8 pack and the same crown sexy cthulhu was wearing??? turns out he's the FATHER OF THE BRIDE??????? and there are mermaids everywhere, all around the ship, kind of unnerving tbh really really scary situation, but it's fine because triton is making rainbows in the sky and hugging the bride and manipulating water and you're also pretty sure the chef just got decimated by a crab?????
royal weddings should all be like these tbh this prince sure knows how to throw them like nobody else in the disney pantheon
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theroundbartable · 2 months ago
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Arthur is used to the comments about him taking a servant along wherever he goes, he really is, but usually people talk about how he's needlessly risking Merlin's life. About how dependened he is, how smitten. And really, he's used to it, patially because it's true.
This is different. These new knights are taunting Merlin.
Knight A: Wow, the King must care very little for you
Merlin: *raises brow*
Knight A: Risking your life like that just for a little comfort. Do you even know how to wield a sword?
Merlin: I manage just fine, thanks
Knight B: Now, why so moody? We're just concerned for your wellbeing.
Merlin: ... I have work to do
Knight A: Are you afraid you may not have enough underwear with you, in case we run into bandits?
Needless to say, Arthur is fuming. But he decides not to interfere. Merlin can take care of himself. In fact, during the next patrol, they'll see. They'll fucking see.
I takes more than one hunting trip and loads of patience, but eventually it pays off.
Merlin: *raises hand*
Arthur, alarmed, does the same. The knights halt.
Arthur: Merlin?
Merlin: There is something in the forest
Knight A: aw, is our dear little servant scared?
Arthur: *about to snap, despite the fact that he usually says the same things-*
Suddenly, an arrow flies past Knight A's face and is stuck in the bark behind him.
Knight A, young, inexperienced, swallows hard.
Merlin: *louder* Bandits!!!
A fight errupts in which Merlin grabs a sword, but not to the confusion of the Knights, but as their sign to defend themselves. They seem awfully lost and unsure what to do. Hesitant, as they have the chance to kill a bandit, Merlin steps in and does it for them. Arthur will never forget the look in their eyes.
Much later
Knight A:...
Knight B: I feel sick
Merlin: *quietly hands them some stew*
Arthur: The first kill is always the hardest. Give it some time and you'll be ready to face sorcerers with us.
Merlin: *twitches*
Arthur: Merlin, stop being such a worryward. You've faced dragons with me, you can handle little sorcerers.
Merlin: Sometimes I wonder if you're doing this on purpose.
Arthur: if you don't like it, you can always stay home in Camelot
Knight A & B: *surprised*
Merlin: and who, pray tell, is supposed to protect your royal arse? If you stayed home, I wouldn't be in half these situations!!!
Arthur: *rolling his eyes fondly* Will I ever be rid of you?
Merlin: no, don't think so. Stew? *Hands Arthur the plate*
Arthur: yes, thanks.
Merlin: prat
Later
Knight A: did... Did Arthur teach you how to fight with a sword?
Merlin: he tried, but I'm stoically allergic to improvement
Knight B: but... You killed that bandit
Merlin: ... He would have killed you. Bandits don't exactly hesitate the way you did
Knight A: we're... Sorry
Merlin: no, it's fine. That you hesitated means that you have some morals. Also, because of your irritating insults, Arthur listened to me for once
Knight A: what?
Merlin: yeah, he wanted to prove something to you. I don't exactly know what tho.
Knight A: you mean... When you made us halt... You always do that?
Merlin: and I'm usually right
Knight A: ... Is the King a fool?
Ah yes, Arthur thinks. That's more like it.
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ha-rinrin · 1 month ago
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"Is there something wrong with my pants?"
Summary: Jinx's comes home after getting half of Zaun out of Stillwater with a doubt on her mind.
Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader
Wordcount: 1.4k
Authors note: I laughed so hard at this scene that I had to write something based on it. Also, guys, I'm absolutely refusing to accept the ending of episode 6 for my own mental health.
masterlist
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The hideout is still, the quiet hum of the machinery and the flicker of a dim lamp your only company. You've been waiting for Jinx, trying not to imagine all the chaos she’s causing out there. You know she’s been working on something big, but you’re never quite sure exactly what until she shows up.
The door slams open, and in she bursts, her energy almost tangible as she steps into the room. Jinx is practically glowing, a grin stretched across her face that matches the wild sparkle in her eyes. Her clothes are messy, but she’s hardly bothered by it, her usual chaotic aura taking over.
“Guess who just pulled half of Zaun outta Stillwater?” she announces, her voice thick with excitement. She practically bounces in place, her fingers twitching like she’s about to explode with more energy.
You blink, surprised. “Wait—half of Zaun? You mean you—”
Jinx nods, cutting you off with a quick motion of her hands. “Yeah! I snuck in, all stealthy-like, dodged the enforcers, and got them out. No one even knew what hit ‘em! They’re gonna be talking about this for ages, trust me.” She leans in closer, her face lighting up with that grin that’s both wild and contagious. “I’m like their ghost, except, you know, way cooler.”
You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a small part of you wonders how she managed it without being caught. She’s reckless, but she’s also clever in her own strange way.
Her voice drops a little, a mix of excitement and something softer underneath it. “It felt good, y’know? Being the one who saves the day for once.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, glancing at you like she’s half unsure if you’ll think it’s stupid.
You step forward, catching her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, Jinx. You did something good today.”
Her eyes widen slightly, a little surprised at the words, before her usual grin returns, if a little softer now. "Well, I don’t always blow things up, y’know." She shrugs, still trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can tell she’s pleased.
“Yeah, but you always make it exciting," you reply, stepping closer to her, your voice warm. "Only you could pull something like that off and get away with it."
Jinx laughs, her energy rising again, and she twirls around once more, feeling the high of her success. "Well, they won’t be calling me ‘crazy’ for much longer! They’ll be calling me a hero soon enough—just wait!"
You smile, watching her, knowing that her idea of ‘hero’ is always going to be a little different from the norm. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
After the rush of adrenaline begins to fade, Jinx’s usual wild energy starts to settle, leaving behind a quieter, more tired version of her. She lets out a long breath, her grin softening as she moves to the couch, her steps a little less bouncy now.
“You know,” she says, her voice much softer than before, “sometimes, all that sneaky, saving-the-day stuff takes more out of me than I thought.”
She drops onto the couch with a sigh, sprawling out, but then pats the empty space next to her, glancing up at you with a mischievous smile. “C’mere. You’re not gonna leave me hanging after all that, are you?”
You raise an eyebrow but walk over anyway, sitting next to her. As soon as you do, Jinx pulls you down beside her, her arms wrapping around you like a vice, dragging you closer as she snuggles into your side.
“Perfect,” she mutters, resting her head against your shoulder with a contented sigh. Her usual wild energy has faded, replaced by something softer, something that only ever seems to appear when she’s with you. She lets out a small, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying the comfort of just being close to you after everything.
“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a total freak," she says after a few moments of quiet, her voice more vulnerable than she usually lets on. "You’re the only one who gets it… and me." She nuzzles into your side, her arms tightening around you slightly.
You smile softly, resting a hand on her back, your fingers gently tracing the familiar lines of her jacket. "You’re not a freak, Jinx. You're just... you. And that’s all I need."
She glances up at you, her eyes bright, but there’s something softer there now, something deeper than the usual spark of mischief. "Good," she mutters with a quiet chuckle. "’Cause I’m never gonna change." Her grip on you tightens a little, and she settles further into your side, clearly at peace now. “So, I’m gonna stay here and cuddle until the world falls apart again. You cool with that?”
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours, the chaos of her day finally falling away as she rests against you. “I’m more than cool with that.”
Jinx lets out another satisfied sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxes even more, completely at ease in your arms. And for once, everything feels calm—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in a world that’s spinning too fast for anyone else to catch
Jinx stays nestled against you for a while, the chaos of the day melting away in the quiet comfort between you. Her breathing has slowed, and she feels more relaxed than she has in hours. The soft hum of the hideout is the only sound, but then, out of nowhere, she shifts slightly in your arms, her mood taking a subtle dip.
You feel her tense, just for a second, and her voice comes out a little softer than usual. “Hey… um… do you think there’s something wrong with my pants?”
You blink, not sure if you heard her correctly. And then, you glance down at her—her eyes wide, her lips pressed together like she’s genuinely worried. It’s such a stark contrast to the wild, unpredictable energy she usually exudes. The sudden vulnerability in her face, combined with the seriousness of her tone, is almost too much.
And before you can stop yourself, you burst out laughing. It’s not mean-spirited, just genuine, surprised amusement. The ridiculousness of the question, paired with the look on her face, catches you off guard.
Jinx blinks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she watches you laugh. “What?” she asks, her voice a little defensive, though the corners of her mouth twitch in response to your laughter. "Is it really that funny?"
You try to catch your breath, still chuckling. “Jinx… you—" You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, grinning. “You’re worried about your pants? Look at you! You’re the last person who should care about that!”
She pouts for a moment, her arms still around you as she pulls herself a little closer, almost like she’s trying to hide. “It’s not funny, okay?” she mutters, her voice quieter now, though there’s still a hint of that pout on her lips. "That enforcer made me feel stupid... and I didn’t like it."
You stop laughing, realizing just how much it’s bothering her. You gently tilt her chin up to look at you, the playful tone fading as you meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. “It’s just… you’re telling me this, and then I look at you, and I’m like— … Who cares what she thinks?”
She stares at you for a moment, the pout fading as she lets out a small breath. “Yeah, but still...” she trails off, still fiddling with the fabric of her pants.
You grin, brushing a hand through her hair as you pull her back into you. “You’re perfect, Jinx. Those pants? Totally you. No one else could pull them off like you do.”
her head resting against your chest as she lets out a soft sigh, the weight of her earlier worries starting to ease away. “You’re the best,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You smile, kissing the top of her head. “You’d probably blow something up, but I’d still be right here.”
And just like that, the tension fades. She’s back to her usual self—still a little quirky, but reassured and relaxed in your arms.
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pellucid-constellations · 5 months ago
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Trial and Error (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Illness, Azriel's pov 👀
a/n: Someone sedate me at this point. Also I'm posting this earlier than planned because I am susceptible to peer pressure
Read part one | part two | part three | part five
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
Azriel sat at the table for breakfast, his attention occupied by the window to his right. A plate of eggs, bacon, and toasted bread sat forgotten and untouched before him. To be honest, Azriel was unsure of how it even came to be in front of him. 
Cassian was saying something, the rest of the table humoring him with sleepy mumbles and raised brows. He was always so lively in the mornings, a sentiment not shared by the rest of the inner circle. 
Azriel was typically one of the more responsive people, but his shadow was late today. It had been a few weeks of sending one out to check on you every night, and this one was late. The rest of them swarmed around his feet in anticipation. 
“Az?” Mor’s voice had him breaking his stare from the window. “What are you looking at? You’ve been checked out all breakfast.” 
Azriel cleared his throat and readjusted in his seat. “Nothing. Just distracted.” 
She snorted. “That’s an understatement. You’re been distracted for weeks now. What’s been going on with you?” 
“Nothing,” Azriel repeated. He picked up his fork despite his stomach protesting, the nerves twisting it to the point of unease. 
“Hate to concur, Az, but you have been rather absent. I think this is the first time you’ve had a meal with us this week,” Rhysand chimed in. 
From beside him, Feyre shot her mate a look. 
Azriel, feeling eyes on him, glanced to his left to find Cassian leering at him with narrowed eyes. His brother leaned his head back and hooked his arm over the back of his chair, analyzing Azriel amidst his lax posture. 
Azriel rolled his eyes. “What?” 
With his tongue pressed into his cheek, Cassian let out a disbelieving huff. “You’re seeing someone,” he concluded. “Who is she? Why haven’t you said anything?” 
“I’m not seeing anyone. Why would you come to that conclusion?” 
“You answered that way too quickly to be believable.” 
“Azriel, are you seeing someone? There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that,” came Mor’s soft tone—trying to play the opposite side of the coin. 
“No, I—“ 
“He is. I know he is.” Cassian, with his assured pestering. “And don’t think I don’t notice how Rhys is being silent here. And Feyre. The only two people in the room that can read minds.” 
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Feyre defended. 
“Yeah!” Nyx yelled, quick to defend his mother. “Nothing!” 
But Nyx’s interference only made Cassian turn his attention to the small child and knock his head to the side. 
“Nyx—“ Cassian began. In response, Nyx shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth. “Azriel’s been taking you to school an awful lot, hasn’t he?” 
“Mmhmm,” Nyx nodded. 
“And he’s been going to all of your school events?”
Nyx nodded again, this time with a mouthful of juice. 
“Does Azriel talk to anyone when he’s at your school?” 
“He talks to Ms. Fern.” 
Cassian let out a barking laugh and turned back to Azriel with a wide grin. “Ms. Fern? Okay, Az, if that’s what does it for you. You should bring her to the house.” 
Although he felt an immense pride for Nyx keeping his secret (because Nyx had seen him talking to you countless times) a strange, hot anger licked at the bond hanging loose in his chest. 
He wasn’t seeing Ms. Fern. The reasonable part of his mind told him that it was better this way, you would feel safer, but the unreasonable side wanted to knock Cassian across the room.
You were so much better than Ms. Fern. The teacher didn’t “do it for him” and never would. It was insulting to you. 
Azriel ground his teeth. He knew this reaction was more borne from the fact his shadow hadn’t returned and the worry he was feeling was paralyzing, but reasoning with himself did nothing. 
“I will not be—“ 
Sick, sad, help. 
A whisper at his ear made Azriel rein in his words. 
Alone, alone, alone. 
Azriel snapped his head to the side to find his missing shadow whisking down to join the rest, the hoard of them now rising to leave. To get to you, he realized. He had to— 
“What is it?” Rhysand asked. 
Azriel could feel his talons scratch along the barrier of his mind, but there was no time to let Rhysand hear what he’d heard. In one fluid motion, Azriel was up from the table and out of the house, his wings spread wide behind him as he flew to the outskirts of Velaris where you resided. 
One of the first things he would suggest after he got you to trust him was for you to move. 
He’d already reinforced your locks and checked your neighbors, but you were still so far and that side of Velaris wasn’t the best. 
He’d ask you to move into the House of Wind, but he knew that’d be pushing it. Obviously. 
His back ached as he pressed his wings further, desperate to make it to you. He flung his body one way and then the other to dodge buildings as he went, flying low to save time. Luckily, the streets were barren this early. 
But it wasn’t early enough for your shop to be closed, an all too alarming fact when faced with the “closed” sign on the front door. He yanked on the knob anyways, but the door wouldn’t budge. 
He cursed himself for ensuring their stability. 
He started knocking next—soft at first and then with a blistering urgency. He knocked and knocked and was moments away from flying up to your window and possibly scaring you off for good when the door wrenched open.
You looked beyond disheveled, bone-tired, and frankly gaunt as you stared up at him with an incredulous gaze. Your gaze softened a fraction when you saw it was Azriel beating down your door, but a tinge of irritation remained hazing your eyes. 
“Azriel, we’re closed for—” 
“Are you okay?” he rushed out.
Since the open house, Azriel had been more open with his vies to take care of you. If he were being honest, the intrinsic need to protect you and Melanie was overwhelming and he was barely scratching the surface of all he wanted to do, but you became guarded any time he got too intense. So, he walked you home and asked you about your family and he didn’t care if he got a stonewall in response. 
But right now, you did not look well. 
Right now, there was no Melanie peaking behind your legs as you stood at the apothecary door. 
So, right now, Azriel didn’t have a mind to be subtle. 
“Where is Melanie? Are you hurt?” he asked before you could formulate a response. 
He watched your knuckles pale as you gripped the door. You breathed in deeply. “Mel has been sick all night. I’m not sure what it is and I’ve been trying everything. I’m about two seconds away from calling a healer but…” 
Azriel knew that tell—the way your eyes shifted and your expression pinched. 
More people. 
Anytime you were confronted with introducing more people into Melanie’s life, you crumbled. 
“Let me come see her,” Azriel requested, the tension leaking from his voice into a softer tone. Now that he knew the two of you weren’t dying, there was some relief. Some. 
You shook your head, pressing your lips into a firm line as you deflated. “I don’t want to get you sick. I think I'm already a lost cause, but you—you have important things to do.” 
If only you knew how important you were to him. 
Azriel felt his fists clench at the defeated look in your eye. “If you’re sick, you can’t take care of her. Just let me come in. Let me help, y/n.”  
“Azriel…” 
“Please. Let me take care of you.”
He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, afraid of you drawing back in fear, but they were already lingering in the space between you. Azriel decided you must have been truly exhausted because your only reply was a pained sigh followed by your door swinging open to let him in. 
You didn’t even send him a sidelong glance. 
Azirel’s hand twitched as he followed you up the stairs to your apartment, the urge to press his fingers along your back stifling. 
One step at a time, Azriel—you were only just letting him into your house. 
Any examination of your apartment abruptly halted as soon as his feet met the threshold of the sitting room. Melanie was lying on the couch looking worse for wear with a cloth along her forehead and a flush to her cheeks that did not sit well with the Shadowsinger. His chest caved in at the sight, a feeling that intensified when her small voice filled the space. 
“Mr. Azriel?” she croaked, attempting to lift her head. You rushed over to press her back down, running your fingers through her hair. “He’s always at my house,” Melanie said, turning to look at you. “Always.” 
You let out a breathy laugh as Melanie shut her eyes and began to softly snore against the arm of the loveseat. Azriel’s shadows rushed to the girl and brushed against her forehead and arms, offering the cool wind they provided. 
In a few steps, Azriel took a knee beside you. He looked at you first—at the way you hovered over your daughter with furrowed brows—and then let his gaze wash over Melanie. Against his better judgment, he wrapped his scarred fingers around her tiny hands. 
No poison, his shadows reported, although he didn’t expect it to be. She was feverish, hadn’t eaten since last night, couldn’t keep anything down; it was rare for fae to get so sick, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning. 
Even more worrisome was the fever emanating from you. Azriel could feel the heat on his shoulder and he could tell you hadn’t stopped to rest. 
“I know a healer that can help. She wouldn’t say anything to anyone,” Azriel said after a beat of silence. 
You paused your fingers in Melanie’s hair. “Do you promise?” 
The sickness had worn you down, taking the fight and fear right out of you. 
“I promise on everything. I wouldn’t bring someone here that wasn’t safe.” 
Azriel called Majda. 
Majda arrived in a few minutes, much to your surprise. Azriel had gotten the door upon her knock, his eyes catching the way your knees shook as you went to stand. 
Majda kneeled in front of the couch where you and Azriel once were, her healing magic lighting up the room. Behind her, Azriel stood with you and he watched. 
He watched your worried brow and the way you picked at your fingers. He watched the flush on your face get worse and worse as your daughter’s illness gradually got you sicker. He watched the way you tracked each of Majda’s movements, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. 
He watched your body shake as it held you up. 
He watched his mate and saw how alone you were. 
Azriel reached up and tucked a hair behind your pointed ear, using the ploy to feel for the temperature on your cheek. You turned to look up at him and he felt the way his expression strained. 
“You should let her look at you too,” he said, voice low and calm.
You shook your head. “I’m okay. I’m fine.” 
“You aren’t.” 
You turned back to your daughter, looking on. 
Azriel no longer cared for the farce he’d been putting on. He stepped closer and let his palm rest on the small of your back if only to support you from collapsing. He saw you glance at him from the corner of your eye, but you made no move to step away. 
It took Majda 13 minutes to come to a conclusion. Azriel knew that because he had been counting. 
“Well, first of all, she will be okay. As will you, as I see you may have the same illness,” the older healer spoke, rising from the ground with a grunt. “It is most unusual—what ails you. Do you have Autumn's blood?” 
The fingers you had pressed to your mouth were abruptly dropped. You looked up to Azriel with panic in your eyes, a question clear in your expression. 
He hadn’t known where you were from, but he had guessed, and you were looking at him as if he knew—as if he knew and you wanted to know if it was safe for the healer to know as well. 
Azriel nodded his head and ignored the bittersweet feeling in his chest. 
He had wanted you to tell him when you were ready. 
“Yes,” you uttered, shaking your head much faster than you spoke. “We both are. Is that—does that have something to do with it?”
Majda offered you a thin smile. “You have Autumn fever. Something to do with the fire that lingers in your blood. Sometimes it does not align with the other courts and your body revolts. It will pass in a few days as most. Uncomfortable bugger to be sure, but nothing that cannot be managed.” 
You sagged against Azriel in relief, the shadowsinger catching your weight as your knees buckled. He pulled you closer to his front but didn’t feel complete until he guided you back to the couch and leaned over Melanie as she slept. 
“She’ll be okay?” you asked. 
Azriel thought the question was for Majda, but when he looked to his side you were staring directly at him, fear and fever in your gaze. 
He lost his breath and captured your face in his hands. “She’ll be okay,” he assured. You were so hot against his skin. “You will too. I’ll fix it.” 
Something righted in your expression—something softened. For the first time since he entered your house, you let out a full breath and allowed your eyelids to drop. It was barely thirty seconds before your head fell as well, your forehead landing on Azriel’s collarbone. He trailed his hand up to rest against your hair and placed his other on Melanie’s knee as he stayed beside the couch. 
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Shadowsinger,” Majda crooned. “That’s a whole lot of responsibility. A lot of secrets.” 
Azriel tightened his hold on you. “Do you have herbs that would help? To lessen fever or pain?” 
Majda hummed. “I will leave a few.” A pause. The floorboards creaked as Majda went to make her exit. “Heed my words, Azriel.” 
“I know what I’m doing—what I’m getting myself into.” He dropped his nose to your temple, listening to your breath as you slept. His shadows continued their mission of cooling Melanie’s feverish skin. 
“Do you?” 
Azriel considered the question, and no, he didn’t know. 
But he couldn’t find it within himself to care.
part five
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rackartyg · 2 years ago
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when i was 14, i stopped reading books. i’ve always put it down to being humongously depressed at the time, which isn’t, like, untrue, but a much more significant reason was that the time i previously spent reading, i now spent on social media.
i was allowed to get my first smartphone when i was 11, started saving up for it for, and then actually bought it when i was just shy of 13. then i got tumblr and youtube and started spending more and more time on there, and my reading time decreased until it was nonexistent, and it stayed that way for years.
then the pandemic hit and i started reading again, just a little, and then more when i switched to e-books, because it made my book as accessible as social media. it’s been a bit touch and go since then due to my mental health, but i am actually reading again, and i love it. but i’m still spending too much time on social media and these last few weeks i’ve come to realise that i don’t even enjoy it that much, really, so why am i doing it?
so i’m going to put hard screen time limits on tiktok, reddit, and twitter, hopefully for the whole summer but we’ll see how it goes. and a soft limit on tumblr. i won’t do anything about desktop because i don’t waste time in the same way there. but i’m putting limits on my phone and tablet. actually i don't know if the screen time thingy on apple lets you put hard limits but i'm going to go find out now!
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