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ellecdc · 5 months ago

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the case of the missing pickles

poly!marauders x slytherin seer!reader who can't stop Seeing them [2.9k words]

amalgamation of various prompts:

prompt 1 from 🔮🐍 anon: I was wondering if you could do a part two of Sight's Set where one of her visions comes true? maybe the vision is of her on a date with them to Hogsmeade, but it turns out differently where she goes to Hogsmeade alone and they find her there and join her??? prompt 2 from anonymous: Can I please request marauders with a reader who are just in the beginning of their relationship and yet they know r so well like she doesn't have to even ask and she's all confused and flustered prompt 3 from 🕊️ anon: Remus calling feisty slytherin reader 'dove' being her kryptonite

The sun was warm on your skin as the castle gates permeated your view. You were trying to hide your amused smile at the boys’ antics, though you’re sure you were unsuccessful when a gentle laugh escaped your lips.

James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.

“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.”

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.

“Don’t make any plans for next Hogsmeade weekend; we’ll definitely be doing this again!” James called; Remus encouraging him forward by a hand on his waist as Sirius walked away from you backwards to continue looking you up and down.

“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.

You woke up with a start, shooting upright in your bed as you sucked in a much needed breath. Goosebumps erupted all over your body as the feeling of being submerged in cold water began to dissipate and your nervous system realised it wasn’t dying.

After nearly two decades of living with ‘the gift’ of Sight, one would think your body would have a better response to it.

Alas, it still acted like you were moments away from death.

Perhaps it wasn’t too far off, what with all your Sights of the Marauders overtaking your every waking (and sleeping) moment; perhaps you were dying, perhaps that would be preferable.

After taking a warm shower to bring some much needed heat back to your bones and wash away the residual nerves that your vision had caused, you decided to put it out of your mind; you would never agree to waste one of your precious Hogsmeade trips with the Marauders anyways, so there really was no point stewing over it.

You eventually made your way into the Slytherin common room to find Regulus and Barty already situated with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Good morning, Treasure!” Barty cheered as he stood abruptly from his spot on the sofa with Regulus. “Heading to Hogsmeade today?”

“You know that I am, Barty.” You responded with a smirk. “I told you I needed to go to Tomes and Scrolls; the book I ordered should be in.”

“Great!” Barty clapped his hands together. “I need to stop at Dogweed & Deathcap!”

“Absolutely not.”

Barty paused in his excited tirade to look at you incredulously. “What do you mean, absolutely not!?”

“I mean you are absolutely not coming with me, Barty.”

“Why!?”

“Barty.” You started as if you were speaking to a rather troublesome toddler. “Last time I let you come with me you had us kicked out of Zonko’s and then spent two and half hours violently debating with the Dogweed & Deathcap shopkeep about the proper brewing times for veritaserum.”

Barty stared at you bewilderedly as you held his gaze.

“You’re really not going to let me come with you?” He asked after a painfully long silence.

“No.”

Barty stomped his foot once and let out a petulant breath. “Then you’re not allowed to be my best woman at our wedding!”

Regulus looked up from the newspaper he’d been engrossed with in favour of this ridiculous conversation to look at the two of you in bemusement.

“Wha-? We’re not getting married?” Regulus stated as a question, effectively removing Barty’s furious glare from you only to have it directed at himself.

“It’s just one sodding disappointment after another!” He screeched before turning and storming off towards the boys’ dormitory.

You and Regulus stared at the empty spot that was once Barty Crouch Junior before Regulus broke the silence by standing with a tired sigh.

“Well I guess I know what you’ll be up to today.” You teased gently earning you a groan from the youngest Black.

“If you happen to be by Honeydukes…”

“Yeah, yeah.” You cut him off, accepting the galleons he pulled from his pocket as he held them out to you. “I’ll pick him up some sugared butterfly wings.”

“Thanks, I’ll need all the help I can get.” He grumbled as he made his way after his cantankerous boyfriend.

Even the dreary weather couldn’t bring your mood down as you pocketed your galleons and accepted Barty’s bag of sugared butterfly wings from the Honeydukes shopkeep.

You loved Hogsmeade, and you loved visiting with your friends, but sometimes there was nothing like enjoying a peaceful trip on your own.

Feeling quite pleased at having procured your special order from Tomes & Scrolls and successfully running Regulus’ errands, you pulled your hood up to protect yourself from the elements outside before pushing open the shop door only to collide with a heavy force on the other side.

“Hullo, L/N!” James called as he quickly righted you.

This cannot be happening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled as you stepped out of James’ hold, pretending like you didn’t notice the slight fall in his expression at the loss of contact.

“Nope, I think you’ll find I’m really quite Sirius.” Sirius said with a wink.

“Ew-” You started, turning to look at the longhaired boy in disgust. “That was terrible. That’s a terrible joke.”

“Listen, when you get cursed with a name that’s also an adjective, you get to make all the terrible jokes you’d like.” He responded plainly.

“You get used to it.” Remus sighed; offering you a sympathetic crooked smile.

“I should think I won’t, thank you very much.” You said as you turned to walk away, only to feel a gentle hand grasp your elbow.

“Whoa whoa, where’re you off too in such a hurry?” James asked teasingly.

“The castle?” You responded quickly, immediately berating yourself for deigning to explain yourself to the likes of the Marauders.

“Before lunch?” Remus asked then. “It’s not a trip to Hogsmeade without a stop at the Three Broomsticks.”

“I’m not hungry.” You proclaimed with finality only for your stomach to traitorously contradict you by groaning rather loudly at the thought of one of your beloved tuna melts from the restaurant.

“Liar.” Sirius smirked smugly. “To the Three Broomsticks!”

Before you had a chance to protest, Remus and Sirius were walking ahead as James threw his arm over your shoulders and guided you after them.

“Get your hands off of me, Potter.” You spat.

“Sorry sweetheart, I wish I could, but then I’d have no way of ensuring that you wouldn’t just take off.” He apologised, not sounding very apologetic at all.

You thought of your Sight from this morning but decided you were relatively safe; they had called it a date - this was decidedly a hostage situation. Besides, the weather had been really rather lovely in your Sight; today’s weather was quite the opposite.

It was fine.

This wasn’t a date.

You were fine.

Just fine.

Except you had no sooner entered the Three Broomsticks before Sirius was pulling out a chair for you as James rather forcefully sat you in it; Remus quickly sitting and blocking your means of escape on your other side.

“I’ll go order!” James called quickly before nearly skipping towards the bar to do just that.

Sirius sat across from you looking all sorts of chuffed at his current predicament, smiling knowingly between Remus and yourself. “So,” he started. “Any more visions of your wonderful future with us?”

“Bite me.” You spat immediately, hoping to all the gods that no one noticed the heat emanating from your cheeks at the question.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smirked.

“Be nice to her.” Remus chided softly. “She already doesn’t want to be here.”

That’s right, you thought petulantly before quickly scolding yourself for agreeing with a Marauder.

Entirely too soon in your opinion did James return, happily sitting beside Sirius and looking around the table. “So! What’d I miss?”

“Y/N wants me to bite her.” Sirius responded quickly. “Okay!” James agreed readily. “Now?”

“Oh my gods I’m going to avada myself.” You muttered as you pressed your fingers into your temples.

“Oh come now, not before lunch.” Remus chuckled, rubbing conciliatory circles onto your back.

You couldn’t believe how tactile these boys seemed to be; they almost always had their hands on each other in some way. Sirius currently had a hand on James’ thigh who had his arm thrown casually over the other boy’s shoulder. You were almost certain that James had extended his legs under the table and was currently playing some form of footsie with Remus, who, in turn, had his hand on your back.

And then you thought of the ease that James had thrown his arm over your own shoulder on your way here as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Sirius asked, pressing a finger to the divot that was growing between your brows before you hastily swatted his hand away from you.

“Just wondering what I ever did in another life to deserve this.”

“Must’ve been an angel in another life to deserve us.” He responded haughtily.

“She’s an angel in this life too.” James added; beaming smile making you feel as though you needed to squint your eyes lest you look directly at it.

The barkeep saved you from having to think of a response by placing food in front of each of you.

Your beloved tuna melt that you had been dreaming of earlier sat on a plate before you, confusing you as to how James seemed to know your order.

But perhaps he hadn’t; perhaps the barkeep recognised you and knew what you usually ordered.

You pulled open the sandwich and were hit by another curiosity.

“There’s no pickles?” You asked aloud, causing the three boys to look at you in bemusement.

“Did you want pickles?” James asked you slowly; his fork hovering over his plate as he delayed the first bite of his own meal on your account.

“Well…no, but it usually comes with pickles.” You explained dumbly.

“Yes but you always pick them off, so I asked for no pickles.” He explained simply before finally taking his long awaited bite.

“How did you know that?” You demanded rather harshly then.

“Know what? Your order?” Sirius asked on James’ behalf.

“Yes. And the pickles.”

“Because we pay attention?” Remus offered then; you could see him scrutinising you from the corner of your eye.

“Do you want me to go ask for pickles so that you can pick them off?” James teased then, an ill-suppressed amused grin threatening to overtake his face.

“No, I want you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” Sirius asked with a smirk. “Knowing things about you?”

“Yes, that. Stop that.” You ordered.

“You’d have to obliviate me.” James taunted, leaning on his elbow and resting his chin on his fist as he considered you.

“Better make sure to get the incantation right, gorgeous.” Sirius added. “Otherwise you’ll be responsible for his care when you ultimately put him into a vegetative state.”

You huffed petulantly before opting to take a bite from your sandwich in favour of continuing with your current conversation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask-” Remus started with an amused grin on his face. “If you don’t like pickles, why don’t you just ask for no pickles?”

You let out a conceding sigh as you swallowed your bite. “I don’t want to be a bother…it’s just as easy to pick them off myself.”

You felt shame prickle at the back of your neck when your answer was met with silence before Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh my Godric,” He exclaimed excitedly. “You are a big softy.”

Against your better judgement you kicked your foot out at the long haired Marauder, horrified when James yelped before reaching under the table to rub his hand over his shin.

“Fucking hells, sorry Potter.” You grumbled as you tried to curl in on yourself, watching as Remus cooed at the bespectacled boy and Sirius laughed at him.

“Oh, no worries angel.” James offered you tightly, voice coloured with pain as he forced a smile at you. “Merlin, you've got quite the leg on you.”

“Fuck yeah she does.” Sirius agreed salaciously, earning him a fiery glare from you as you considered re-aiming your foot.

“Easy there, dove. Play nice, yeah?” Remus murmured then, causing a shiver to rush down your spine as you turned to look at him with your mouth parted slightly.

You were absolutely horrified at the very visible reaction you had to the scarred boy’s endearment - and you knew it was a very visible reaction because Remus had a very visible reaction to it.

“You’re alright, dove.” He murmured again, this time with a knowing smirk before turning back to his own sandwich and pretending like he hadn’t just completely rocked your world with one simple word.

You looked over to see Sirius pick off of James’ plate as you waited for James to use his fork as a weapon for the egregious crime of stealing food, only to see James quickly load up a fork-full and hold it out for Sirius to try.

“Fuck, I should have ordered that instead.” Sirius admitted as he swallowed the bite.

“Wanna switch?” James offered quickly, already lifting his plate to give Sirius room to slide his over should he want.

“I’m not taking your meal, bubs.” Sirius responded with a smile as a faint blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

“You’re not taking, I’m offering.” James insisted, moving Sirius’ plate in front of him before placing his own plate in front of Sirius when it became obvious the other boy wasn’t going to help.

“Thank you.” Sirius admitted rather shyly for the notoriously boisterous boy before he pecked a kiss to James’ cheek.

You looked over to Remus in bemusement only to see him looking lovingly over at his boyfriends.

“Did you wanna switch, too?” Remus asked then, alerting you to the fact that he was quite aware that you had been staring at him.

“Absolutely not; you stay away from my tuna melt.” You spat before taking another bite.

You found yourself quite glad that the boys simply laughed before moving on to other topics of conversation, watching curiously as they talked and joked the afternoon away.

By the time the four of you were making your way back towards the castle the sky had cleared, leaving the spring air fresh and fragrant in the warm sun.

You felt a gentle tug and turned to watch Remus pull your jacket out of your arms before folding it over his own arm to carry it for you.

Shit.

“Moons! What do muggles call the game ‘leaping toadstools’?” Sirius called suddenly from where he and James had run ahead.

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he smiled at them. “Leapfrog.” He called back with an audible eyeroll you were sure was mostly for show.

“Rem, I bet five galleons that me and Pads can leapfrog the whole way back to the castle.” James shouted.

“I’m not betting.”

James let out a horrified scoff. “Why not!?”

“Because I know that you likely can even though you probably shouldn’t.” He responded simply.

“Don’t rain on our parade, Moony.” Sirius said dismissively, waving Remus off like he was the definition of anti-fun.

And to your absolute horror, you found yourself rather entertained as you watched them line up to play leapfrog; the only interruption of the game on your walk being to pet the odd cat, point at a patch of honking daffodils, and to run back and steal kisses from Remus (glaring at them when they threatened to do the same with you).

James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.

“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.”

Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.

“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.

And though you would sooner die than admit this to anyone, after this rather lovely afternoon and with the amount of time the Marauders have spent leapfrogging through your mind, you didn’t think you could miss them too much, even if you wanted to.

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snowballseal · 3 months ago

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Breathe

Zayne X Reader

Summary: Trying to cope with losing Caleb and your grandmother, you throw yourself into work and push yourself to the very limit, only to break at the end of a particularly bad day. Thankfully, Zayne is there to get you through it.

Word Count: 2953

Warnings: dealing poorly with grief, depression, anxiety, what could be considered a panic attack, this is all hurt comfort folks, Zayne calls you good girl cause it's CANON and I can't get over it

Enjoy

---

One person can only take so much before they break. And the harder they try not to, the worse it gets.

Your day sucked. First you were late to the team meeting because you spilled coffee - piping hot you might add - on yourself right before leaving. Then, you and Xavier got into a stupid fight - he thought you were pushing yourself too hard. A part of you knew he was just concerned, they all were, but as soon as those pitying eyes turned on you, you could feel yourself bristling like an angry street cat.

You were fine.

Was it that wrong that you just wanted to work? You hate being home alone, which happens often since Zayne has to work extra hours, what with the increase in wanderer attacks. Not seeing him has already made you a little grumpy. But even worse, is the deafening silence of that apartment. Every time you’re alone, every time it gets just a little to quiet, you can’t stop your thoughts from drifting to Caleb and Gran-

So you work. You take extra hours, cover shifts, field the reports nobody wants to do, even if it means you stay up all night, even if it means you skip a few meals. At least then you don’t have to think about it, you don’t have to deal with the nightmares. Maybe if you throw yourself into work, you might be able to outrun the storm creeping on your horizon.

And that’s how you ended up messing up on a mission. Pushed to your limits, your mind was foggy and your body just. wouldn’t. move.

You hadn’t gotten out of the way fast enough. A stray energy blast narrowly caught your shoulder, sending you careening into the nearest wall. The impact sent your head spinning, your vision going blurry for a second too long. You could hardly make out Xavier’s face when he kneeled beside you, telling you to stay down, that he could handle it.

A bitter taste had filled your mouth when he said those words.

You were utterly and completely useless. And that thought seeded itself somewhere in your chest, wrapping tight around your ribs until you couldn’t breathe.

Jenna sent you home after that, with a stern command to rest. You wanted to argue, tell them you’re fine, but your shoulder was screaming and the look she gave you when you opened your mouth was seering enough to shut down the most experienced hunter.

So you threw your jacket over your shoulders and stormed out of the office, trying to ignore the way your team’s gaze followed you, not even bothering to hide their concern. You could feel it burning on your skin all the way home. And that was only the beginning.

Now you find yourself laying on your couch, staring blankly at the television, the volume turned up too loud, just to drown out the thoughts swirling like a storm in your head.

You hate it. This feeling. Like you’re stuck underwater, trying so hard to reach the surface, but everything you do just drags you deeper and deeper. Your muscles are burning for any relief, but you can’t let yourself stop. You’re too scared to let yourself stop. Because if you do-

“Are you aware that listening to the television at this volume could cause damage to your hearing?”

You jump at the sudden calm voice that speaks behind you, flipping around to come face to face with a rather unamused Zayne. Quickly, you snatch the tv remote, turning it down until it’s barely a whisper in the background.

“Zayne! I thought you were working late tonight,” you chirp, the waver in your voice almost unnoticeable.

Almost.

Zayne’s eyes narrow, making you shift uncomfortably. Sometimes it feels like he can see right through you, right to the very core of your being.

“Things were not as busy as expected, so I decided to come home early and make sure you eat a full meal,” he explains, voice calm despite the way his gaze burns through you.

Skin prickling with unease, you jump from the couch, forcing a playful laugh, “What are you, my doctor?”

“Yes.”

Right. You awkwardly shift around him, heading towards the kitchen, “Well, then I guess we should start dinner, huh? What do you want?”

“You are also home early.” It’s not a question, merely an observation, but it makes your throat go dry.

Sometimes having such an observant boyfriend is amazing. You love Zayne more than anything, love how attentive he is, but in moments like this, you feel like a creature under a microscope. Every single flaw and action under his sharp scrutiny. There’s nowhere to hide, and all you want to do is run.

“We have some leftover moo shoo pork,” you hum shakily, hands unsteady as you pull it from the fridge. “And I could make some rice, I think it’s up he-”

Forgetting about your shoulder, you reach up to one of the cupboards. Pain shoots up to your fingers like electricity, searing back down your spine. You inhale sharply, momentarily paralyzed as you clutch it to your chest, eyes squeezing shut.

Zayne is there in an instant. His fingers ease over your taut jaw, his skin cool to the touch. He doesn’t say a word, but you can practically feel his concern in the way he barely touches you, like he’s scared you’ll break. It makes your chest tighten.

“I’m fine,” you breathe, gritting your teeth.

“You’re injured,” he counters, voice still irritatingly calm, “Why don’t you let me-”

“I said I’m fine,” you bite out again, this time with a little more force, “I’m perfectly capable of making dinner. I’m not useless.”

Zayne pauses, partially taken aback by your words. They feel out of place, and he can tell you didn’t mean to say them when you glance away, cheeks burning a vicious pink. His brow furrows, confusion flickering over his features.

“I wasn’t suggesting you are,” he says, each word measured carefully, like the wrong ones could set you off.

And now you feel guilty. God, you can’t do anything right today.

Biting your tongue, you grab the rice with your good arm, stepping around him to busy yourself at the counter. Not that setting up the rice cooker takes up much time. Soon enough you've nothing more to do, bracing yourself against the counter just to stay upright. The silence that creeps between you is unbearable, thick enough to cut, especially when you can still feel Zayne’s eyes following you so closely.

“God, this is so stupid,” you huff out, false bravado broken as your voice warbles, “I’m fine. I can handle it. I’m a hunter. I’m supposed to handle it. I’m supposed to- I’m supposed to help people. Not-”

You bite off the rest, fingers digging into the counter. The pain in your shoulder distracts you, keeps the tears at bay. You can’t cry. Not now. Not-

A hand traces lightly against your waist. You tremble at the gentle touch, a lump forming in your throat as his arm circles around you. Zayne pauses for only a moment before pulling you back into a rare embrace when you show no signs of moving away. He presses his face against your hair and holds you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world, like you’re made of the thinnest ice, which is how you feel.

Tears blur your vision. You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to hold it all together. Until-

“It wasn’t your fault, (Y/n).”

His voice is so quiet, so certain.

And you break.

You don’t know what sound leaves your body at that moment, but you’re sure it’s ugly and broken. Your entire body trembles in his hold, but he doesn’t waver, simply holds you tighter as everything spills out.

It’s so much. So much weight, so much grief, your throat is raw in seconds from crying. Every breath is like knives, until suddenly, you can’t breathe.

It’s like your lungs are full of sand, your chest spasming as you fail to take in air. It hurts. It all hurts.

“Darling, I need you to breathe,” Zayne’s voice speaks urgently at your ear, and you want to, you need to, but all you can muster is a pathetic whimper and shake your head. Before you can blink, Zayne has you turned around and lifted onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. He catches one of your hands, pressing it firmly against his chest as his green eyes bore into yours, a hint of desperation pulling at his features. “I know you can. Be a good girl and copy me, alright? Can you do that?”

You nod shakily, trying to focus on him and not the burning in your chest. Zayne takes a deep, exaggerated breath, his chest rising against your hand. You try to do the same, your body shaking with the effort.

“Now breathe out.”

His chest falls and you once again copy him, the breath leaving you shakily. It takes a few repetitions until your breathing comes to any normal pattern, and Zayne silently tracks the time in his head. He traces your wrist gently, subtly checking your pulse to see how your heart is doing. It’s racing, but still within a normal range, which is enough to ease his firing nerves a little.

Not that this is over.

“‘m sorry,” you hiccup softly, gasping down breathes, fresh tears spilling over your cheeks. “God I’m sorry, Zayne. I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean to snap at you, and I just, I-”

The doctor hums, tone stern, making you fall silent. He traces his fingers against your cheek, the cold of his touch welcome against your overheated skin. He carefully wipes your tears away.

“I accept your apology. It is very common for people dealing with grief to lash out at those closest to them. I am merely thankful you trusted me enough to let me help you through it.”

You sag into his touch, lips wobbling. To most, that wouldn’t be comforting. But for you, knowing Zayne, it’s like finally having a hand to hold you above the water. He’s unmoving, unyielding in the way he loves you, all of you. Even like this.

“I trust you with my life, Zayne,” you whisper and lean forward to press your forehead against his chest.

“Then I assume you’ll allow me to examine your shoulder.” It’s not really a question, but you nod anyway. Zayne leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair. “I will go get the first aid kit. Please take off your shirt if you feel comfortable doing so. If not, I ask that you change into something that will give me access to do a thorough exam.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums approvingly, a ghost of a smile in his voice.

Your heart jumps a little at that and you’re thankful for the curtain of hair hiding your face. It’s not often Zayne indulges you with such soft praise and you can’t help but soak it in, especially now. Your eyes flicker shut when he presses another kiss to your head, the touch lingering before he disappears to go retrieve the kit.

Sighing softly, you set to work on trying to get your shirt off. The nerves have settled back in your chest, not sure what to expect. You haven’t looked at your shoulder once since the fight, dead set on ignoring it as long as you could. Which was stupid. If the pain tells you anything, it’s probably pretty bad.

Bad enough that you can’t actually get your shirt off. You’re able to slip one arm out, but wince when you try to lift your bad one. So you're stuck like that, half undressed. Which is how Zayne finds you when he comes back, medical kit in hand.

He glances at you, dark brow raising a fraction. If he’s amused, his face doesn’t give it away.

“Will you um, will you help me?” You ask, voice quiet, “I can’t…I can’t lift my arm.”

Zayne’s lips press into a thin line. He nods, setting the kit aside. You can’t help but hold your breath as his fingers brush against your knee, slowly tracing up your thigh, jumping to your waist and brushing against your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is unbearably soft, and your heart squeezes as you watch his face, noticing the way his brows twitch as he works, and how focused his gaze is. Every movement is calm, self-assured. You hardly have to move as he lifts the shirt over your head, sliding it down your injured arm.

And once it’s off, his hand returns to your waist, thumb brushing tenderly over your ribs. His eyes stay focused on your shoulder, and yours stay glued to his expression, catching the smallest flicker of shock.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You ask, biting your cheek.

Zayne carefully schools his expression, but you can still see his disapproval in the tight set of his jaw, “You should have gone to the hospital immediately. I am surprised your team let you walk away with such an injury.”

“They didn’t know,” you mumble, trying to defend them at least a little bit. It really was your fault.

“So you hid this injury from your team?” He doesn’t hide his disapproval this time. You flush, looking down at your lap again, though that’s hard with him settled right between your legs.

“I didn’t…” The words get caught in your mouth. It’s so silly now, you know that. Your team would never look down on you for being injured, but- “I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t handle it. I just, I didn’t want to seem…useless.”

Zayne clicks his tongue, but he doesn’t say anything else. His fingers graze lightly against your shoulder and you wince, a low hiss passing between your teeth. Murmuring an apology, he moves to grab a few things from the kit. The silence returns as he sets to work, though this time, it’s not so uncomfortable.

Your head feels a little clearer now. You’re not through it, that’s for sure, but the pain from losing Caleb and your grandmother lingers a little less sharply. Zayne’s words from before repeat like a mantra in your head, and for once, you can feel yourself almost accepting them.

It wasn’t your fault.

There’s nothing you could have done. You can’t change the outcome of that day in the same way that you can’t change the color of the sky. That doesn’t stop how deeply you feel their absence, though.

“I miss them so much,” you admit, mostly to yourself.

Zayne pauses, already wrapping your shoulder after applying some medicine and deciding that the hospital could wait until tomorrow. He finishes pinning the bandage down before shifting back, eyes trailing over your face. You look up at him, exhaustion gleaming in your wide, (e/c) eyes. It’s like looking at a sad, little puppy. He breathes out a low sigh, brushing a few rogue hairs from your face.

“Your grandmother and Caleb were kind, caring people,” he says slowly, thoughtful, “It is right that you should miss them. It is not a sign of weakness to feel grief.”

“I know.” You reach for his hand, desperate for some form of contact. He gives in without hesitation, fingers brushing against your jaw to hold your face. You turn, nuzzling into his palm with a sigh. His touch gives you the comfort to continue, “Sometimes it just feels like if I let myself sit with it too long, I’ll be swallowed whole. And that…scares me. A lot.”

A pause. You keep your face tucked against his palm, enjoying the way he pets you as he thinks. Zayne has never been the strongest when it comes to emotions. With everything else he likes to distance himself from them to stay objective, so you know he needs the time to figure out what he wants to say.

“I suppose…” he starts, and you glance back up at his face, catching the serious gleam in his eyes, “if it gives you any comfort, I would like to remind you that I will always be here to bring you back from whatever depths you fall to. Even if risking your life is your choice of coping mechanism.”

He pinches your cheek ever so lightly, and finally, finally, a smile pulls at your lips.

“I’ll work on it, I promise.”

He doesn’t look like he truly believes you, but Zayne nods.

“As your doctor, I would deeply appreciate it if you would.”

Eyes dancing with a bit of mirth, you lean forward, pressing a loving kiss to his cheek. Zayne catches you before you can pull back, fingers curling along your jaw as he draws you into a deeper kiss. It’s slow, his lips slanting perfectly over your own, like a well-rehearsed dance. When he pulls away, you can’t help but sigh, leaning your forehead against his chest again.

“What on earth would I do without you, Zayne?”

He presses another kiss to your hair, voice a low, teasing murmur, “You would likely die from an untreated wound.”

And just like that, you’re laughing. Zayne smiles, relief washing over him at the sound.

You’ll be alright. He knows that today was just the first step, that grief is complex and differs from person to person, and you might have another bad day like this, but he doesn’t mind that. Not now that he’s finally by your side and can take care of you.

Nothing could drive him away.

---

I literally started this game 11 days ago and I'm so down bad for these characters, it's shameful. Anyways! Hope y'all enjoyed!

Feel free to send requests!

#zayne x reader #zayne x you #lads zayne x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne x reader #x reader #reader insert #love and deepspace reader insert #hurt/comfort #dealing with grief #panic attack #lads zayne #my beloved

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feelingbat-ty · 5 months ago

Text

This is inspired by @aflamboyanceofflamingos post about Tim choosing to publicly hate Robin as Tim Drake, cause to love or hate someone is the best way to hide a secret identity.

I started thinking about Tim coming into contact with his teammates as a civilian and Tim using this as an opportunity to take out all the grievances he has for his team in a way, that 1) Won't cause tension and fights. And 2) let him get away with being a petty arsehole, cause it's not like superheros can just go and beat up random civilians.

And well... my hand slipped.

--- You Can't Spell Spite Without Timothy Jackson Drake ---

The amount of times YJ comes across Tim Drake in the wild would be concerning if Tim didn't stalk them as often as his busy schedule allows (which turns out to be quite often). The Beta tube in the Batcave and another secret Beta tube in the bowls of Wayne enterprise's Francisco building allows Tim easy and direct access whenever he so desires.

And well, Tim never did grow out of his stalking phase.

It would be comical - if it wasn't maddening - how often they don't realise he's there. Most of the time he's stalking trailing a member of the team he's not trying to hide his presence, it wouldn't make sense for him to, not as Tim Drake.

The team have a tally board that sits in the common room, it's at 85.

85.

His team's situational awareness is absolutely appalling. 85, they've noticed him only 85 of the hundreds of times he's followed them around?

He complains to Dick about it, a lot. He's hoping Dick will give him some tips on how to beat situational awareness into his teammates thick skulls. He was the leader of the Titans, so he has to have something!

Dick - like the asshole he secretly is - just laughs at him.

He asks Cassie about it once. Why they don't find it concerning that they encounter Tim Drake: famous for being the civilian who 'beat Robin in a fight' every other week?

"I mean, You're usually right about these sorts of things, Rob. If you don't think Drakes an issue, then we trust you."

Tim can't figure out whether to feel warm and giddy at the fact that they apparently trust him, or to be annoyed at the fact that they follow after him like sheep. Not even doing their own research and recon (Cassie probably did. Kon and Bart? Yeah, hell would have a better chance at freezing over).

The first time was a coincidence. Tim had needed some space (from Bruce. From his deadlines. From his own mind...) and ended up wondering the streets of San Francisco with no real destination in mind.

An impulse turn led him onto the boardwalk and from there right to Superboy.

It was a bright and sunny day in Fran and Kon was glowing. Literally, because of the sun and figuratively from pride after he stopped a would-be pick pocket-er from pick pocketing an elderly lady.

He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't, not when the team know of Tim Drake, know his face and all about how he hates Robin and makes it his whole personality. Not when the only thing that stops them putting Tim Drake on Baby Super villain watch is Tims general blasé attitude about, well... himself.

But is it oh, so tempting.

Especially because the month before, Kon had accidentally smashed Tim's favourite coffee mug in a series of event's (involving a yoga ball, shearing scissors, laser vision and a will from God himself) so convoluted that Tim was convinced it had been orchestrated for a solid week.

Was it a cheap mug from Kmart? Yes, but it's the principle of the matter!

As Tim’s left shoe impacts the side of Superboys face, a sense of manic glee overtakes him. Tim takes special care to seer this memory of Superboy getting hit in the head with Tim's shoe and the stupid face he makes as the ratty converse collides with his cheek, into his brain.

It's not much, but it's justice all the same for his once beloved mug.

Tim... might just be a tad sleep-deprived.

Superboy startles and lets out a frantic “Shit!” Assuming he’s being attacked by a surprise enemy (the kind that isn’t just civilians throwing shoes) he looks around, taking stock of his surroundings and looking for any immediate threats before glancing down at the shoe and visibly doing a double take.

His face is blank as he stares - undoubtably confused - at the shoe. A second later he's lifting his gaze, following the direction the show came from and staring right at Tim.

Tim, who (like an idiot) is still, for some reason, positioned how he was when he threw the shoe - arm outstretched and leg back to brace himself.

There is absolutely no way he wasn't the one who threw the shoe. If the stance didn't give it away, then him having one shoe (that shoe being a near identical ratty rad converse) probably did.

“What?” Superboy asks. He looks befuddled. A little amused, but mostly just confused. He's got a small, polite smile on his face that just reeks of Clark Kent's influence. Kon is obviously trying to model himself off of Superman - specifically Superman's polite and approachable "Grandma pinching worthy" vibe and not his fashion choices, since he's still got the leather jacket and sunglasses.

Tim makes a mental note to tell Kon that he has a really expressive face. Tim is literally reading all his emotions in 4K. They should probably work on that, it could be a liability in the field.

Tim briefly considers playing dumb and acting like it wasn’t him that threw the shoe, before dismissing that idea, Kon can be clueless at times, but he’s not a complete idiot.

So instead, he says, “that was a very open-ended question.”

And well, it was.

At the look Superboy gives him, he elaborates, “What, when said in that context, could mean literally anything! Like, ‘what was the purpose of that?’ ‘What’s your name, so I can in-prison you’ ‘What shoe size was that?’ Seriously, dude, be more specific!”

Superboy’s befuddlement takes a sudden nosedive to incredulity. “Okay, fine. Why did you throw a shoe at me?”

“Cause you work with Robin.” He says simply. He'd say 'justice' but then he'd sound like batman and like, thanks but no thanks.

“Cause I- what? You physically assaulted me with a shoe because I work on the same team as Robin?”

Tim, personally, thinks assault is a strong word to use for this situation, but he’s glad that at least some of his lessons on the proper terms and vocabulary are paying off.

He nods, cause that is indeed what he just did, he crosses his arms across his chest, and stares Superboy down.

Superboy who, looks like he’s regretting everything that led him to this moment. Tim relishes in that for just a little too long to be healthy. Probably.

Tim doesn’t really care. He told Kon (as Robin) that he’d regret breaking Tim’s favourite mug (accident or not, he's still not over it.) yeah, this might not be how either of them envisioned it, but Tim thinks this might just be better than beating Kon up as Robin in their next team training session. What better way to get someone back than to publicly humiliate them in front of all their peers? Shame he can't do that anymore.

Eh, who is he kidding? He’s still going to do that anyway.

“You’re only gonna throw one?” Superboy has a look on his face that’s similar to the one Bruce gets when he’s decided to give up and play along with the crazy. The one where he'll smile and nod, slowly inching out of the room, as Duke and Damian (There has truly never been a more terrifying duo) explain to him in vivid detail how they're going to use psychological warfare to make a shitty teacher at their school resign.

“Yes.” Why’d he throw both his shoes? He’d have no shoes!

“… Right. Why did you throw this one?”

All these questions!

“I like that one the least,” he shrugs, and it's true, the converse on his right foot has a little bi flag that Steph sewed into it back when they were dating. A throw pillow was the closest thing in reach at the time, so he sewed a little pan flag on it for her (he later did one on the breast pocket of one of her denim jackets).

“You are so freakin’ weird, dude! You throw a shoe at me! Because I work with Robin!”

Uh, yeah, we've already established that.

“How did you even get it off that fast!”

To be Honest, Tim is also surprised at how fast he was able to get his shoe off. One second he’s looking at Superboy the next he’s lobbing a shoe at his thick head.

Instead of saying any of that, Tim channels his inner Janet Drake, sticking his nose into the air and scoffing like Kon is the literal gum stuck on the sole of his shoe.

Kon, - because he’s no longer Superboy, he’s too fired up to hold onto the mask - shakes his head. It’s mocking, when he says, “You must be really shitty at throwing a punch if you had to resort to throwing shoes.”

Tim shrugs, “Well, I woulda thrown a fist, but you’re not worth a fist.”

Kon is silent and doing an amazing impression of a blobfish.

Tim turns and struts away before Kon has the chance to come up with a rebuttal, or just decides to punch him in the face.

He’ll grab his shoe later, after Kon leaves.

The basted incinerated his shoe.

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 19

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Mention of domestic violence and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

The day was perfect. It dawned bright and clear...the perfect wintery day.

"You are nervous," Cassian teased him. Azriel just glared at him.

"Of course, I am," Azriel gave back with a growl.

"And here I thought you had nerves of steel," Cassian's voice dripped with a smirk as he helped Azriel adjust his shirt for the millionth time.

"I do," Azriel shot back. "Or did you forget this morning? When I knocked you on your ass?"

"You caught me off guard," Cassian protested.

Azriel let out a snort, smoothing down his shirt.

"Yeah right," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, brother."

"I like seeing the all-mighty Shadowsinger be reduced to a terrified groom," Cassian snickered.

"I am not terrified," Azriel protested. "I have seen battle. I've fought gods and lived to tell the tale. I can handle some flowers, and some guests, and some vows."

"Yeah, but you can't handle your pretty little mate in a wedding dress, can't you?" Cassian asked with a grin.

Azriel couldn't stop the heat that rose to his cheeks as the mental image of Eira in a wedding dress popped into his mind.

Of course, he couldn't hide the flush of his skin from Cassian, who started laughing at the sight.

"You're blushing," Cassian accused, a wide grin on his face.

Azriel shot him a glare, smoothing down his shirt again.

"Keep telling yourself that in order to feel better about your ass being handed to you this morning," he grumbled.

Cassian was still chuckling as they heard the sound of the door opening, revealing Rhys, who was clad in his own wedding finery.

The High Lord had a smug look on his face that Azriel didn't like the look of at all. "Finally got the groom into his clothes, I see," Rhys said, shooting Azriel a grin.

And then, his eyes were immediately pulled to his mother, standing in the doorway. Rhys had gone to fetch her just now.

She was dressed in her own finery, and she looked more radiant than Azriel had seen her in years. Her hair was braided back and pinned up, and even her green eyes were bright and shining as she looked over the trio of males.

She immediately came over and smoothed a hand over Azriel's hair, adjusting his shirt as he had done.

"You look perfect," she told him. "Handsome as ever."

Azriel's heart clenched at his mother's words, and he had to fight off a sudden wave of nervousness, even as Cassian clasped him on his back as he backed off.

"Are you...sure you're alright?" he asked his mother quietly. She didn't often leave the safety of Rosehall. Esmeray just gave him a look.

"I'm perfectly fine," she told him reassuringly, patting his cheek affectionately. "And you'll do great today."

Azriel felt a flush rising to his cheeks at her words and the affection in her voice, and he ducked his head to hide it.

"Thank you, Ma," he whispered quietly. "And you look stunning," he said quietly, his eyes sweeping over her blue dress and the hair pinned up with sparkling pins.

His mother's eyes softened, a fond smile on her face as she gently pinched his cheek as if he were a little kid instead of the fearsome shadowsinger.

"You'll make me cry," she said, her voice still soft. "And you don't want me to show up to the wedding with a red nose and puffy eyes, do you?"

Azriel managed to laugh, gently covering her hand on his cheek with one of his own.

"Absolutely not," he teased gently. "It would ruin the whole occasion."

His mother laughed at that, patting his cheek again before she reached up to fix the buttons of his jacket, and he tried not to twitch at the fussing.

He was the spymaster, for Cauldron's sake. But here he was, blushing at his mother's affection and letting her fix his clothes like he was still a child.

"You look wonderful," his mother said to him, her eyes searching his face. "I have seen you as a warrior, and as a spymaster. Today...today I will see you as a husband."

His heart stuttered a bit at the words, and he had to fight to keep himself steady, forcing down the sudden wave of nervousness that threatened to consume him.

"And..." he began, his voice coming out a little rough. "Do I...measure up to husband standards?"

His mother chuckled at that, gently patting his chest.

"You've always been more than enough for me," she said warmly. "And you've always strived to be enough for yourself. But that beautiful girl you asked to marry you? She thinks you hung the moon and the stars. For her? You are everything."

He swallowed.

His mother cocked her head to the side. "What's wrong, darling?" She asked him quietly.

"I don't...I don't want to be like him," he whispered.

Realization flashed through his mother's eyes at his words, and she paused for a moment.

"You are nothing like him," she said firmly. "Not one thing like him. Not in your words, not in your actions, not in your heart.

"I look just like him," Azriel disagreed. Just like his father.

His mother's eyes softened again, and she reached out to cup his face in her hands.

"You have his nose, my darling, and your hair is the same tone of black..." She paused for a moment, staring into his green eyes. "...but that is where the similarities end. Your father was cruel to me. Brutal even. He took joy in hurting me, and you. But you, my dearest boy, are the opposite. "

"I did things," he admitted, a hoarse breath escaping him. "Things that..."

His mother gently shushed him, running a hand through his inky black hair.

"None of us are perfect, my darling," she whispered. "And none of us have perfect pasts. I won't tell you that what you did was right, but you're not him. You are a good man. A better man than your father ever was."

Azriel felt his shoulders relax slightly at his mother's words, and he took in a deep, steadying breath.

"I just want to be good to her," he whispered, his voice almost cracking with emotion. "I need to be. I want to be good to Eira."

His mother looked like she wanted to hug him then and there, but she settled for gently stroking his hair again, her expression warm and kind.

"I know, my sweet boy," she told him gently. "You already are. And if you are good to her, and care for her, and treat her like the precious gift that she is, then you are nothing like your father. Nothing at all like him."

Azriel let out a shuddering breath, taking a step forward and hugging his mother for a brief moment, burying his face in her dark hair.

"Thank you," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, his voice still hoarse. "Thank you so much."

His mother smiled again, gently patting his cheek one final time.

"Now go get married, my darling," she said. "And be happy with your wonderful mate."

Azriel had to fight the sudden burning in his eyes, and he looked down, afraid that his eyes might give him away.

But then a second pair of hands were on his shoulders, and he lifted his head up, seeing Rhys next to him.

"A little bird told me that you'd need this right about now," Rhys said, producing a glass of amber-coloured liquor.

Azriel couldn't help but let out a little bark of laughter at the sight, grabbing the glass and taking a long, slow swig of the liquor.

It burned going down, and he coughed as the alcohol hit his tongue. But it was good, and helped ease the nerves and the ache in his chest.

***

For all the thoughts that Eira had had about wanting a husband and children...she had never really thought about how it would feel to get married.

She never had had thoughts about a poufy white dress and flowers...

But here she was. Letting Azriel's shadows weave snowdrops into her hair, as she was perched at her vanity table.

It was almost like a dream...like something out of a storybook. A beautiful wedding dress fit for a fairytale, flowers woven into her hair, and a mate waiting to speak his vows.

This...this was something beautiful.

The last snowdrop was added to the others in her caramel brown hair, their shimmering white petals almost glowing against her hair.

Eira stared into the mirror as the shadows moved back, her breath catching in her chest as she saw the flowers...and how beautiful all of it, all her was.

She was almost afraid to look up, afraid to look away from the mirror, her hands clenching against each other.

"You look beautiful," Feyre said softly from where she was sitting on the bed, Nyx on her lap.

"What about jewellery?" Nesta asked her. She hadn't even finished the sentence, before the shadows had already brought her that velvet box from Solstice.

At the sight of the black velvet box, she felt her heart clench in her chest, a bittersweet pang of affection moving through her.

The shadows placed the box in her hand, and she undid the latch, lifting the lid and gazing at the shining pearls, the glittering diamonds.

They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen, shining against the backdrop of the black velvet. Gorgeous.

Eira picked up the necklace first, carefully clasping it around her throat.

The bracelet was next, her hands shaking a little as she struggled to fasten the delicate clasp.

And then…then they opened the drawer of her vanity table and pulled out another velvet box. That velvet box. Those pearl earrings. The earrings.

“I can’t wear them,” Eira protested quietly. “I don’t have…”

But then the shadows already opened the box. We had them fixed. They are clip-on earrings now. No need for your earlobes to be pierced.

Eira stared, shocked, at the earrings.

Her throat was suddenly tight, and she had to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat as she looked down at the earrings.

They were absolutely gorgeous. She had thought that from the first time she had seen them. Pearl and Diamond. Simple and elegant.

They were perfect.

And the shadows had altered them for her. Changed them into clip-on earrings, so that she wouldn't have to get her ears pierced.

They had gone to the extra effort for her, had wanted to make sure that she could wear them, even without her getting her ears pierced, and...it was more than a little overwhelming.

“Thank you,” she whispered, biting back the tears. “Thank you.”

It was ridiculous, how such a small thing could nearly make her tear up...but it was just so thoughtful, such a sweet, meaningful gesture, for a stupid little pair of earrings, and -

The shadows twined around her, giving her a reassuring little nudge, wrapping themselves around her with a gentle squeeze almost like a hug.

She could finally wear Azriel's gift.

She exhaled, the motion shuddering and a little unsteady as she just stared at the earrings in her hands.

They were just...beautiful, and so very thoughtful, even more so now that the shadows had gone to such great lengths to make them accessible to her. So that she would be able to wear them, without having to go through the trouble of getting her ears pierced.

It was so...thoughtful...so considerate...It...It was almost painful, how much this small thing meant to her.

They tightened them on her earlobes and then brushed against her cheeks.

She almost didn't notice that Feyre had gotten up until the High Lady of the Night Court stood behind her and put an arm around her waist.

"You look gorgeous," Feyre told her for the second time, a gentle smile on her face. "So beautiful."

Eira's breath caught in her chest as she stared into the mirror, seeing her reflection. The pearls and diamonds. The snowdrops. .

Feyre was right...she looked beautiful.

And she wasn't even wearing the best part yet.

The Dress.

The dress that she had made...that she had designed was perfect. It was beautiful.

It was white and silken, smooth to the touch and hugging her body perfectly...the lace and silk dripping off her like liquid. She had spent hours carefully beading the lace and the tulle with dozens and dozens of crystals and pearls...until it was perfect.

Beautiful, and flowing, and perfect. Like something out of a dream, or a fairy tale.

She reached out and gently touched the skirts, her heart thundering in her chest as the realization hit her all over again.

She was wearing a wedding dress.

It was something that she had almost resigned herself to never having. A beautiful wedding dress, with flowers in her hair and her mate waiting at the end of the aisle.

But now...now there was no turning back. No turning back as Nesta and Feyre closed the dozens of tiny pearl buttons that kept the dress closed on the back. As Nesta smoothed down the train that fell from her shoulders to the floor, the layers upon layers of silk and lace.

She looked up as Nesta stood, her hands smoothing along the beautiful silk and lace. "Perfect," she said quietly, a warm smile on her face.

Feyre was smiling too, her eyes sparkling a bit as she looked at the dress. Even little Nyx was quiet with fascination, staring at Eira from Feyre's arms.

And then...there was a single knock on the door, and all three of the Archeron girls went very still, realizing the significance of it.

Eira's heart was pounding in her ribcage so hard that she felt as if it might burst, her hands clenching and unclenching at her side.

"Ready?" Feyre asked her quietly. Eira tried to say something, but her voice wouldn't work and she simply nodded.

"Good," Feyre smiled. "Then let's get you married."

Eira forced herself to take a deep, shaky breath, her chest tight with nerves and excitement and love.

And then, before she could think too hard about it, Feyre was opening the door, revealing Rhys in all his wedding finery waiting behind it.

Every bit the High Lord, his hair slicked back from his face, and his suit dark and crisp, a warm smile on his face.

"You look beautiful," he told her quietly, a hint of a gleam in his violet eyes. "Stunning, little sister."

"Thank you," Eira whispered back, her voice a little hoarse.

Rhys offered his arm to her and she took it almost shyly, her heart racing.

"Time to get you married," he said, grinning at her.

Eira managed a shaky laugh, her chest tight as she took a few trembling steps.

She couldn't see anything but Rhys and her vision had started to blur, and the thundering of her blood was so loud that it almost sounded like drums.

“Please don’t let me fall down the stairs,” she blurted out and Rhys laughed softly.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Rhys promised her, as they reached the staircase landing. “We’ll get you safely to that temple.”

And then…then Eira only needed to get down the aisle without tripping.

“Just hold on to me,” Rhys said as she managed the first few steps of that staircase, Nesta behind her managing her train.

She could do that. Probably.

But Rhys was solid and unmoving and his easy strength meant she could depend on it and…

“You alright?" Rhys asked quietly, noticing her nerves and her shaking.

Eira swallowed hard, trying to steady her heart. Her palms were damp and her knees felt like jelly but she managed a nod at her brother's question, trying desperately to focus on anything but the nerves. Rhys squeezed her arm again, reassuring and comforting. "You'll be alright," he said quietly. "Just breathe."

She forced herself to take a deep breath, filling her lungs with air, and slowly letting it out, focusing on the feel of her feet moving on the floor.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered, her breath choking in her throat.

There wasn’t a father that could walk her down the aisle. That had been taken from her along with her humanity, during that war. But if she could just depend on Rhys’ easy strength, that immovable presence of his…maybe she was going to be just fine with that...

Rhys squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine,” he promised, violet eyes shining. “I won’t let you fall, little one.”

And he didn’t.

Rhys gently squeezed her arm, his smile kind as he carefully guided her outside into the garden and then towards that temple at the far end of it.

One step, and then another, and then another, moving closer and closer to these double doors and the room beyond.

It was like a whirlwind, and she was only aware of two things. Rhys's arm under hers to keep her steady...and the fact that Azriel was waiting at the end of the aisle, his wings flared behind him.

And suddenly…suddenly it was so easy.

She didn't notice anything besides him, his wings flared out behind him and his suit crisp and black against his dark skin and onyx hair. He was staring at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of amazement and love.

And she felt her heart clench in her chest, a surge of adoration moving through her at the sight of the male who was to become her husband.

She was barely aware that she was moving again, slowly walking down the aisle, every step bringing her closer to him. Eira hardly noticed the people watching or saw the soft smiles on their faces.

All she could see was her mate, her eyes completely locked on to him, and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart in her chest.

She heard the sound of Feyre behind her, laughing softly, and feel Rhys gently letting go of her arm.

The only thing that mattered…the only thing that mattered was him.

She drank him in, her eyes glued to his, as she held out her hands for him to take and warm, scarred fingers closed around hers.

The Priestess said something to her, the words were a little hard to process, her heart still racing in her chest, her breaths coming faster than they should have. But she still managed to respond immediately, her voice hoarse as she smiled up at her mate, grey eyes meeting hazel-green.

"Yes."

She heard a quiet, almost shaky sort of breath from Azriel, his wings shifting behind him, as he stared at her in wonder, as she heard with half a mind the priestess repeat the question, this time to Azriel…

She heard Azriel's chest heave with a deep, steadying breath before he responded, his voice like gravel, like velvet, the most beautiful sound of them all.

"Yes."

The priestess began speaking again, the words passing over Eira like some kind of dream. She was too focused on him, her mate, the wonderful male in front of her that was hers.

This felt like something out of a dream, like the fantasy storybooks she had been reading as a child...

But the male standing in front of her, looking at her, looking at her as if she was the only good thing in all the world...that was very real.

A real as the priestess in her robes continued to speak. She caught snippets of what he said. Words like promises, and commitment, and love. Forever.

And always.

No one had every looked at her the way he did. Or loved her the way he did.

And then...then, finally...his hand lifted to her face

She felt as if the entire world stopped around her at the touch.

His hand was warm on her cheek, callouses rough against her skin as he touched her, and she leant into the touch, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again.

His eyes were wide, his face soft with adoration.

“You may kiss your bride."

Time seemed to slow to a stop as she looked at Azriel, her heart thundering against her skin, her blood rushing in her ears.

There was nothing in the world that she wanted more at that moment than to kiss her husband.

He gently cupped the back of her head in his other hand as he pulled her closer, his wings spreading out behind him as he leaned down to meet her.

The second his lips met hers was like lightning striking through Eira, setting her blood on fire and sending a shiver down her spine. Her head was spinning and her heart was racing and her lungs had completely forgotten how to work as time seemed to slow down around them, only him and her and the moment that they shared.

His lips against hers, his hand in her hair…

And then, somehow, they had to stop, separating just barely, their breath mingling together as they slowly pulled apart.

Eira could feel her heart hammering in her chest, feel the way her whole body seemed to hum at his touch, the way her blood was still on fire, burning hotter than it had before.

She was faintly aware of the cheering of their family, the applause and whistles of the people around them, but she hardly cared.

She was far too focused on the feeling of him, her mate, her husband still holding her…She had married him....her wonderful, beautiful Azriel.

And she smiled.

Eira grinned, beaming up at him.

Azriel stared down at her, his expression still wide-eyed and a little stunned. But then, after a moment, he smiled back, his hand curling gently against her cheek.

I love you.

The words weren't spoken, but she could see them on his face, in the adoration in his gaze, in the way his eyes shone as he looked at her.

She could feel everything through the bond, every bit of his intense, unwavering love for her. Every bit of his adoration and affection and tenderness.

He was staring at her as if she was the most beautiful female in all of Prythian, and she had never felt more loved in her whole life.

"We're married," she murmured, her voice shaking just a little as she spoke the words.

"We are," Azriel murmured back, his voice rough with emotion.

And then he was pulling her closer into his arms, her body melting against his as he held her close, holding onto her like he was holding a precious treasure in his hands.

Like she was something to cherish.

He held her tight, his face buried in her hair while he took a deep, shuddery breath.

"My wife," he murmured quietly, his voice a soft rumble.

And gods, did she like hearing that. Loved hearing that.

"My husband," she whispered back, tilting her head back a little to look up at him, her eyes glowing with pure adoration as she smiled at him.

Her husband. Her mate. Her most wonderful, caring, incredible male.

She wanted to spend hours in his arms, the feeling of his touch against her body. She wanted to be claimed, to be marked by him as his wife.

His mate.

His everything.

She wanted all of his attention, all of his love, all of his adoration. All of it, forever.

Gods, but she wanted him. Wanted to have him, and be had by him.

And judging by the way his eyes darkened as hers glowed brighter, the way his arms tightened around her, the way his breath hitched in his chest....he wanted her just as much.

But first...first...first, there was their family descending on them, congratulations and cheers.

Through the wave of well-wishers and kind words, Azriel never let go of her.

He didn’t let go, he just kept her tucked against his side, his hand never leaving her body, gently touching some part of her. Her hand, her hair, her shoulder.

Even as Feyre stepped up, looking almost blissed as she grinned and drew them both into a tight hug.

"I'm so happy for you both," Feyre told them, looking beyond happy as she smiled at them, a genuine, joyful smile.

Nesta stepped up then, a soft, warm smile on her face, a single tear in the corner of her eye as she gave them both a quick hug before stepping back.

"Congratulations," she said warmly, before stepping back to stand with Esmeray, who was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Rhys was there moments later, pulling them both into a tight hug and clapping Azriel on the back, his smile nearly splitting his face in half.

"I always knew you had it in you, brother," he said with a low chuckle, which he quickly quieted when Feyre pinched him on the side.

After him came Cassian, grabbing them both in a bear hug and lifting them off the ground for a moment before he set them down, grinning at them both like some kind of excited child.

"You're both married!" he exclaimed, looking utterly ecstatic. "I'd never thought I'd see the day!"

Mor stepped up after him, her face glowing as she wrapped her arms around them, pulling them into a tight hug.

"Congratulations," she murmured quietly, her voice tight with emotion. "Both of you...I'm so happy."

Amren was last, her face set in its usual cold, stoic expression. But then, she stepped up in front of them, giving both Azriel and Eira a brief, quick hug before saying, "Congratulations. I'm very...pleased, that both of you have found happiness in each other."

Esmeray was grinning with excitement as she stepped up, the older female looking utterly joyful as she gave both Azriel and Eira a tight hug, squeezing them tight.

"I'm so happy for the both of you," she said quietly, her voice quavering a little. "Thank you, Ma," Azriel said quietly.

"Thank you," Eira echoed, her voice soft as she looked at her new mother-in-law.

Esmeray just smiled fondly at them both, reaching up to gently pat each of them on the cheek.

"You're both wonderful together," she said quietly, her voice soft and warm. "I hope you're both very happy together."

She looked away briefly, her eyes glowing, before looking back at them with a bright smile.

"And no doubt you'll be having some wonderful children too," Esmeray said, her voice almost singsong. Azriel almost choked...while a faint blush crept up over Eira's cheeks.

"Mother," Azriel said, his voice almost strangled.

But Esmeray just laughed, grinning at both of them with a mischievous sort of twinkle in her eye. "I'm just saying," she said with a laugh. "I would love to be a grandmother."

Azriel groaned, facepalming as Esmeray continued to laugh.

And in the midst of all the laughter, all the joy and love and well-wishes...Eira felt an almost overwhelming sense of contentment settle in her chest.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

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just-a-ghost00 · 5 months ago

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What your spirit guides have to say about this connection

Warning : there might be some cuss words in the words/signs/names section.

Group 1 - Drawings scattered on the floor

Tarot : 5 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, The Chariot, 8 of cups, Queen of swords, The Lovers | Oracle cards : Patience, Boundaries

When the opportunity arises, move on. Because if you stay, you're going to be disappointed. This connection won't bring you any satisfaction or happiness. It may even deepen your insecurities. No matter who this person is or how they treat you, on the long term nothing good will come of it for you. Now, the choice is yours to make. No one can force you to forget about this person and cut ties with them if you don't want to. Your spirit guides just want to warn you that it would be better for you not to dwell on this person, because there is someone better waiting for you around the corner. If this person is being disrespectful to you, it is high time you show them what you're made of. Because at the end of the day, your responsibility is to value and take care of yourself. I feel like some of you may feel lonely and long for a deep connection. So maybe this person has shown some interest in you which led you to belive that this could be your forever person, when they aren't. I'm sorry if this triggers you, because my intention isn't to hurt you but to provide useful and important information. I know how difficult it can be to cut ties with someone when we had so much hope and dreams with them. But I have no doubt you can make it through. Your guides want to reassure you on the fact that choosing yourself over this person is going to be beneficial to you. Extra information - Strength Queen of pentacles 3 of pentacles Your guides want to insist on your power and ability to overcome this situation. They know you have what it takes to resist this person and protect yourself. The spirit animal of the tiger is watching over you during this period of your life. You may call to it for advice and help. Your spirit guides also urge you to deepen your connection with them and have faith in the Universe and it's ability to provide you with exactly what you need and deserve. Letters : S O E U S W S E I C L E E G R Words/signs/names : wise, use, sue, sow, woes, sus, Susie, cues, Wess, sis, Cis, cusses, Seoul, soul, Glee, seer, Rogue, mess, Ciel, rouge (French for red), glow, cure, secure, Curie, glue, series, cries, less, lows, lower, roses, girls, Weiss, Solweig

Group 2 - Ticking clock

Tarot : 4 of cups, ace of swords, 8 of swords, 4 of wands, 8 of cups, 7 of swords Oracle cards : Get wild, Sacred sexuality rx

You and this person are currently in seperation. You feel like this person is hiding things from you or isn't comfortable speaking their mind. Many of you may be asking about a future spouse. Spirit wants to draw your attention on the fact that the more you think about this person and focus your energy on them, the more opportunities you are missing. It's like you're telling yourself "I can't be in a relationship right now, what if my future spouse comes into my life then?". You're refraining yourself from living your life, having fun, meeting new people. Your future spouse is not open to your connection currently, is what spirit is saying. Forcing the situation would only keep you apart. They are not ready. And so are you. You have other things to tend to, other experiences to live, other people to meet. Your guides advise you to draw back from this connection from a while and keep to yourself what you are doing. Your FS doesn't have to know. And it is none of their business anyway. If you keep pushing, you'll only be lying to yourself. It's important that you turn your gaze on other matters. Right now, this connection isn't beneficial to you. This isn't to say that this person is bad. This is just to say that they currently don't have anything to offer. Extra messages - 2 of pentacles, Black Numen, White Numen You are in a state of confusion regarding this connection. This is because you are currently in or about to be entering a dark night of the soul, a period of solitude and separation from this person. You won't be picking up on anything from their higher self or very little information. But there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Though you don't know where this path leads, you have to trust that the outcome is going to be positive, whether with or without this person. Right now, you should be focusing on your balance and navigating through the fog.

letters : L E U M T T S L T X M R L V T words/signs/names : Summer, sex, muse, exult, luxe, melt, ex, texts, test, sell, tell, mums, "trust me", serum, mute, Muller, mulet, rest, SUV, vet, "must let", lust

Group 3 - Adventurer's camera

Tarot : The emperor, 6 of cups, 7 of wands, 4 of swords, The Star, Knight of pentaclesOracle cards : The Creator, Withdraw

Spirit wants to confirm that this person is a soulmate of yours. You are destined to get closer to this person after a period of retreat. They are represented by The Emperor, The Star and The Creator. Chances are this person is an artist or a public figure like an influencer. If not, then the person you're asking about is destined to gain notoriety. They are extremely powerful. They are here to help you manifest your desired reality. But for now, a time of separation is needed. You may receive intuitive downloads from this person's higher self to guide you on your journey. Patience is the key word here. This person has a lot of passion for you. But spirit wants to remind you that their role is mainly to guide you, to light the way so that you can follow in their footsteps. They don't want you to get too caught up in what you feel for them. Because they're afraid you might forget your purpose. Extra information - Ace of swords, 7 of pentacles, The Sun By working on your inner truth, you could reach success with this person and also on a more personal level. This time of withdrawal is meant to help you with that. You may be afraid of failure regarding this connection. Know that there is no such thing as failing. You can only make the decision that is right for you. You might not see the full potential of what you have currently and may doubt this connection but your guides want to assure you that there is more to this than you can see. It'll make sense in due time.

Letters : D S U Q O E U M L M E T N C S Signs/names/words : cute, sun, son, lost, lust, muse, Noel, lune(French for moon), comet, comments, dust, moles, semen, men, quests, cloud, cold, muscle, monde (French for world), mounts, Clement, sounds, museums, ondes (French for waves), clones, cents, sold, old, soul, mess, cuss, lone, doms, demons, clues, cums, semen, told, SNS, meme, dots, "see us", SOS, cunt

#pick a card #pac reading #spiritual pac #spiritual guidance #oracle cards #tarot

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rowiewritesstuff · 9 months ago

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Yandere Adam X Seer/Psychic Reader

I will more than likely edit this bc I'm supppper tired rn while writing this. Also oops super long

MIGHT Make a Demon or Angel version bc uhhh yes?

Thisss will obvs have a little misogyny in it. It’s Adam. Also this has SPOILERS so don’t read if you haven’t finished the show pookies QwQ

This also has some semi-offensive words so as always, if you can't handle it don't read it.

Yandere Adam X Seer/Psychic GN Reader

You were a friend of Charlie and Vaggie’s. You don’t know how exactly you got to hell as a human, but the two women were more than happy to take you in. They protected you from a lot. You’re incredibly sweet, friendly, and shy so you were an easy target for the residents of hell.

When Charlie and Vaggie decided to go to heaven to make an appeal to the court you went along. You thought maybe the Seraphim could help you out and get you home to your universe.

For your privacy, you wore a hood to hide your humanity. Everyone believed you were a demon.

When Emily was showing the three of you around Heaven you accidentally bumped into Adam. The others didn’t notice you left behind. You saw a flash of visions- Exterminators were destroying sinners left and right, and Adam was above them all, laughing. Then you saw something else- Adam’s death. He was beaten by Lucifer and then finished off by Nifty, a small resident of the Hazbin Hotel.

You fell to your knees to take a breath after seeing such a vivid vision. You didn’t notice Lute’s confused face or Adam’s confused anger. Adam couldn’t comprehend what he saw for a moment, but the pieces slowly clicked- he was dying. What was this? Was this a stupid demon trick to throw him off of his plans?

Adam grabbed you by your arm, bringing you right next to his face. “The fuck was that?”

You were frozen- what did he mean?

“I’m fucking talking to you, bitch!” Adam snarled. He threw you against the wall, and Lute was horrified at the stares they were getting. She quickly whispered something you couldn’t hear to Adam. Adam looked around and growled in irritation before looking at you. “I’m not finished with you.” Adam and Lute then flew off.

“There you are!” Charlie grabbed your arm. “Isn’t this place just great?” She paused as she saw the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What’s wrong?”

“N…nothing, Charlie. I’m okay.” You smiled. “Just overwhelmed by Heaven.” You weren’t sure why you had lied. You were normally so honest all the time.

Hours passed and you were in your temporary room the Angels gave you. It was down the hall from where Charlie and Vaggie were staying.

You were reading when you heard someone barge in. You whipped around to see Adam with a cool glare on his face. Lute was standing behind him. She clearly didn’t understand what was happening, but she was loyal to Adam. Whatever he did, she’d support it.

“What do you want?” Your words trembled as you spoke them. You stood from the bed quickly.

Adam stalked over to you and got so close to you that his breath hit your face. “I want to know what the fuck you did to me.”

“I…what are you talking about?”

Adam punched the wall next to your head. A hole was left in the wall. “Don’t fuck with me! I could kill your pathetic demon ass!” He was getting more angry and it showed. He hated that he couldn’t see your face under your hood.

“I told you, I don’t know!” A small sniffle came from you. Adam growled and ripped your hood down. He and Lute were shocked. A human? In Heaven?

“The fuck? What kind of bullshit are you pulling?” He pulled on your cheeks to see if it was a disguise. Eventually, after about thirty seconds of pinching and pulling on your skin he realized you WERE a human. Adam was conflicted- he hated sinners, yes, but not necessarily humans. “Why the fuck were you in hell in the first place?”

“I-I don’t know.” You fought the tears building. “I..there was a portal thing. It sucked me in and I landed in Charlie’s hotel.”

Adam frowned. He, in his long time being an Angel, had never heard of something like this happening. “Look, just tell me what you did to me.” Adam insisted.

“I…I really don’t understand what you mean.”

“When you bumped into me earlier - fuck you by the way- I saw myself. I was… dying. To a fucking demon.”

You paused. He couldn’t have seen it…could he? Maybe it was because he was an Angel… you didn’t understand. “I think… you saw my vision.”

“Your what?” Lute chimed in, irritated she didn’t understand anything.

Charlie told you to keep it a secret…but they were angels. You could trust them, right? They couldn’t be bad. So you naively explained everything- when you touch someone or something, you can (not always) get visions of important things that happened with it. While you explained Adam had to hide his shit eating grin threatening to grow on his face.

You were perfect- you could help him destroy those demon bastards permanently. Now…he just had to find a way to keep you here.

Adam pretended to be your friend. He told you about how nice it is in Heaven. It was much safer up here than in Hell. “You’d fit right in, doll- you’re super cute.” He teased you. You had no clue that he was manipulating you. You normally didn’t get compliments like that so it made your cheeks flush a deep color.

Later on during the trial Adam had one of his Exterminators keep you busy. That didn’t work forever though, and eventually you got to the court. Adam and Lute were saying cruel things about Angel Dust, Charlie, and Vaggie. You watched, unsure of what to do. Adam hadn’t noticed you when he pushed your friends back into hell. You ran to the portal to join them when Lute stopped you. Her Exterminator mask had a cruel grin on it.

“What is the meaning of this, Adam?” Sera asked. She was more curious than angry.

“This one here… is a human.” Adam ripped off your hood. A collective of shocked gasps rang out through the room. Everyone wondered how you got to heaven. “They came up from Hell with those demon bitches. We can’t just let her go back to hell- she doesn’t belong there.” Adam grinned viciously.

“What? You can’t decide that for me!” You try to get out of Lute’s hold. Emily went to defend you but Sera interjected first.

“We cannot make them stay here if they want to go, Adam.” The other Angels in the chamber muttered in various degrees of opinions.

“They’ll get fucking stabbed down there or some shit. Humans don’t belong in hell, and this human is probably so confused for the mix up it’ll go batshit if we don’t help them out. It’s the right thing to do.” Adam grinned. You could almost see the slime coming from his words.

“Look, just send me back to my friends!” You struggled frantically. You did seem confused and upset to the other Angels, so they were inclined to agree with Adam.

After Adam so graciously offered to look after you, Sera hesitantly agreed. After all, Adam was the first human- he would know what one needs.

You were locked away in Adam’s penthouse, constantly guarded by at least one Exterminator.

Adam forced you to give him information in exchange for your friend’s lives. If you disobeyed, well, he could send an Exterminator early to kill one of your little hotel friends.

“Now, be a good little human and tell me all about this Carmilla whore. Otherwise, I’m thinking that crackwhore would be a good first kill this year.”

You gave him everything he wanted to know, having no clue that the hotel and all of your friends were already long dead. You’d helped Adam evade death, and he wouldn’t waste it.

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spiderprincess-suffet · 4 months ago

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Ngl ever since swapping styles (again-) I've made a surprising amount of changes to how I approach this little au of mine I like it lol

Anyways finally getting around to drawing my Lily for the au that @naughtykittydv-1992 was kind enough to let me make lol

LORE TIME:

Lily Korbyn and Scarecrow girl (Crow for short) live on and maintain a small farm in the normal human world, Korbyn was originally found and taken in temporarily by the Slender mansion Proxies similar to her original comic but instead of sticking around and becoming a proxy as well she fled after finding out what becoming a proxy to slender would cause. Crow once attempting to kill her eventually became an ally and assisted Korbyn in her escape from potential proxyhood.

Currently they're hiding out on said farm trying to find a way to free people from being taken on as "Proxies" especially the kids at the slender mansion and also Crow from her Proxyhood under Zalgo.

They haven't found a way to remove the proxy marks that usually come with the Ordeal, they can't remove it but they can study how it works with Korbyn having to eventually make the choice of attempting to make her own Proxy, with Lily being said proxy of hers.

Slender has Proxies of all sorts Human, Ghost ,even other demonic and Inhuman entities. Korbyn already has Crow to study for the inhuman part and she made Lily a proxy of herself to study the ghost side of things but she's still missing a human proxy to study.

Magical beings (typically demons) often have proxies to benefit them in some way, slender has them for food, any person one of his Proxies kill acts as a energy and food source for them, requiring the Proxies to kill at least once a year.

Often these proxies have way less benefits than the people who made them proxies Wich is why they're trying to stop this.

Also Unlike a lot of proxies Lily isn't one of these no benefits proxies as it's Korbyn who she's a proxy of, instead of the typical Proxy who gives something up and the proxy owner who gains something, with Korbyn and Lily it's more like the opposite Korbyn gave up half her Seer abilities to Lily in order to make her a Proxy, now technically they're both in the role of Seer lol.

#art #digital art #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta art #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta au #korbyn jumping eagle #korbyn the seer #creepypasta scarecrow #zalgo creepypasta #zalgo #lily kennett #au art

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meraki-sunset · 2 years ago

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What are the fussion kids classpects?

I gave the black haired ones, the StriderLalonde aspect and the HarleyEgbertEtc class. And did the oposite for the white haired ones, HarleyEgbertEtc aspect and StriderLalonde class.

That way the beta session is still viable, with time and space gods, but the alpha isn't, and they need the beta players to win. like in canon

Jase is a Seer of Space not only to make the session viable but because space players are always green in some way, so it fits canon and also the black clothes look cool with the ears. She can see space. She can percieve everything around her and really far away from her. detect her enemies aproching from a universe away and that kind of thing, you can never surprise her, because she always knows where you are (you also can't escape her)

Dahn is a Heir of time, again, because it was nescesary but also because i think it fits him better than a knight of breath. A heir is suposed to change and manipulate, they're the ones who come to change the previous order. So a heir of time would be able to alter event's using his time habilities with a lower chance of causing a paradox. They go all out when it comes to molding the timeline to their advantage. He will create a perfect balance with his sister's aspect and together they'll scratch the session and head to the alpha session.

Rany is a maid of Void, it's hard describe what her powers do. maids are creators, so she would be a creator of nothing. she can most likely sustract things from places, turn them into nothing, maybe she can create tiny blackholes. It's kind of a dark power. Maids create and regenerate, so she could fix things that have been broken to the point of mising parts or slowly regenerate lost limbs, sumoning the missing pieces from the void itself.

Jark is a prince of hope, therefore hopeless. He got the short end of the stick when it comes to classpect. He started the game in a pesimistic mood, but put on a cool hero facade to hide his doubts about the game being a good idea, after godtiering he couldn't hide his true feelings anymore. He was completely hopeless about the future and had given up on the game (most likely eager to end it) Princes are destroyers, they destroy either their aspect or with their aspect, wich means that Jark can be the one to doom the timeline if he get's out of control or be the one to save it. he needs to be able to focus his destruction not towards hope itself, but towards the enemy, using hope as the fuel. Like Rany, he has kind of a dark power, that's why they'll have to rely on eachother to understand their powers and grow into heroes, not leting those new powers consume them

#homestuck #homestuck au #fussions #fankids #i guess

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book--brackets · 4 months ago

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Valdemar: Mage Wars by Mercedes Lackey (1994-1996)

It is an age when Valdemar is yet unfounded, its organization of Heralds yet unformed, and magic is still a wild and uncontrolled force.

Skandranon Rashkae is perhaps the finest specimen of his race, with gleaming ebony feathers, majestic wingspan, keen magesight and sharp intelligence. Courageous, bold, and crafty, Skan is everything a gryphon should be. He is the fulfillment of everything that the Mage of Silence, the human sorcerer called Urtho, intended to achieve when he created these magical beings to be his champions, the defenders of his realm--a verdant plain long coveted by the evil mage Maar.

Now Maar is once again advancing on Urtho's Keep, this time with a huge force spearheaded by magical constructs of his own--cruel birds of prey ready to perform any evil their creator may demand of them. And when one of Urtho's Seers wakes from a horrifying vision in which she sees a devastating magical weapon being placed in the hands of Maar's common soldiers, Skandrannon is sent to spy across enemy lines, cloaked in the protective of Urtho's powerful Spell of Silence.

Sorcerer Royal by Zen Cho (2015-2019)

At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.

But when his adventure brings him in contact with a most unusual comrade, a woman with immense power and an unfathomable gift, he sets on a path which will alter the nature of sorcery in all of Britain—and the world at large…

Valdemar: Vows and Honor by Mercedes Lackey (1988-1998)

She was Tarma. Born to the Clan of the Hawk of the nomadic Shin'a'in people, she saw her entire clan slain by brigands. Vowing blood revenge upon the murderers, she became one of the sword-sworn, the most elite of all warriors. And trained in all the forms of death-dealing combat, she took to the road in search of her enemies.

She was Kethry. Born to a noble house, sold into a hateful "marriage", she fled life's harshness for the sanctuary of the White Winds, a powerful school of sorcery. Becoming an adept, she pledged to use her talents for the greatest good. Yet unlike other sorcerers, Kethry could use worldly weapons as well as magical skills. And when she became the bearer of a uniquely magical sword that drew her to those in need, Kethry was led to a fateful meeting with Tarma.

United by sword-spell and the will of the Goddess, Tarma and Kethry swore a blood oath to carry on their mutual fight against evil. And together, swordsmaster and sorceress set forth to fulfill their destiny....

The Kingston Cycle by C. L. Polk (2018-2021)

In an original world reminiscent of Edwardian England in the shadow of a World War, cabals of noble families use their unique magical gifts to control the fates of nations, while one young man seeks only to live a life of his own.

Magic marked Miles Singer for suffering the day he was born, doomed either to be enslaved to his family's interest or to be committed to a witches' asylum. He went to war to escape his destiny and came home a different man, but he couldn't leave his past behind. The war between Aeland and Laneer leaves men changed, strangers to their friends and family, but even after faking his own death and reinventing himself as a doctor at a cash-strapped veterans' hospital, Miles can't hide what he truly is.

When a fatally poisoned patient exposes Miles' healing gift and his witchmark, he must put his anonymity and freedom at risk to investigate his patient's murder. To find the truth he'll need to rely on the family he despises, and on the kindness of the most gorgeous man he's ever seen.

The Faerie Wars Chronicles by Harbie Brennan (2003-2011)

When Henry Atherton helps Mr. Fogarty clean up around his house, he expects to find a mess and a cranky old man; what he doesn't expect to find is Pyrgus Malvae, crown prince of the Faerie realm, who has escaped the treacherous Faeries of the Night by traveling to the human world through a portal powered by trapped lightning. An egomaniacal demon prince, greedy glue factory owners Brimstone and Chalkhill, and the nefarious Lord Hairstreak, leader of the Faeries of the Night, all dream of ruling the Faerie realm and are out to kill Pyrgus.

Enlisting the help of his sister, Holly Blue, and his new friend, Henry, Pyrgus must get back to the Faerie world alive before one of his many enemies gets to him instead. But how many portals are open, and can Pyrgus find the right one before it falls into the wrong hands?

The Ordinary Princess by M. M. Kaye (1980)

Along with Wit, Charm, Health, and Courage, Princess Amy of Phantasmorania receives a special fairy christening gift: Ordinariness. Unlike her six beautiful sisters, she has brown hair and freckles, and would rather have adventures than play the harp, embroider tapestries . . . or become a Queen. When her royal parents try to marry her off, Amy runs away and, because she's so ordinary, easily becomes the fourteenth assistant kitchen maid at a neighboring palace. And there . . . much to everyone's surprise . . . she meets a prince just as ordinary (and special) as she is

The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge (1946)

When orphaned young Maria Merryweather arrives at Moonacre Manor, she feels as if she's entered Paradise. Her new guardian, her uncle Sir Benjamin, is kind and funny; the Manor itself feels like home right away; and every person and animal she meets is like an old friend. But there is something incredibly sad beneath all of this beauty and comfort--a tragedy that happened years ago, shadowing Moonacre Manor and the town around it--and Maria is determined to learn about it, change it, and give her own life story a happy ending. But what can one solitary girl do?

Dr. Greta Helsing by Vivian Shaw (2017-2024)

Meet Greta Helsing, doctor to the undead. After inheriting a highly specialised, and highly peculiar, medical practice, Dr Helsing spends her days treating London’s undead for a host of ills: vocal strain in banshees, arthritis in barrow-wights and entropy in mummies. Although barely making ends meet, this is just the quiet, supernatural-adjacent life Greta’s dreamed of since childhood.

But when a sect of murderous monks emerges, killing human undead and alike, Greta must use all her unusual skills to keep her supernatural clients – and the rest of London – safe.

Of Mermaids and Orisa by Natasha Bowen (2021-2022)

Simi prayed to the gods, once. Now she serves them as Mami Wata—a mermaid—collecting the souls of those who die at sea and blessing their journeys back home.

But when a living boy is thrown overboard, Simi does the unthinkable—she saves his life, going against an ancient decree. And punishment awaits those who dare to defy it.

To protect the other Mami Wata, Simi must journey to the Supreme Creator to make amends. But something is amiss. There’s the boy she rescued, who knows more than he should. And something is shadowing Simi, something that would rather see her fail. . . .

Danger lurks at every turn, and as Simi draws closer, she must brave vengeful gods, treacherous lands, and legendary creatures. Because if she doesn’t, then she risks not only the fate of all Mami Wata, but also the world as she knows it.

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust (2017)

Sixteen-year-old Mina is motherless, her magician father is vicious, and her silent heart has never beat with love for anyone--has never beat at all, in fact, but she'd always thought that fact normal. She never guessed that her father cut out her heart and replaced it with one of glass. When she moves to Whitespring Castle and sees its king for the first time, Mina forms a plan: win the king's heart with her beauty, become queen, and finally know love. The only catch is that she'll have to become a stepmother.

Fifteen-year-old Lynet looks just like her late mother, and one day she discovers why: a magician created her out of snow in the dead queen's image, at her father's order. But despite being the dead queen made flesh, Lynet would rather be like her fierce and regal stepmother, Mina. She gets her wish when her father makes Lynet queen of the southern territories, displacing Mina. Now Mina is starting to look at Lynet with something like hatred, and Lynet must decide what to do--and who to be--to win back the only mother she's ever known...or else defeat her once and for all.

#best fantasy book #poll #valdemar: mage wars #sorcerer royal #valdemar: vows and honor #the kingston cycle #the faerie wars chronicles #the ordinary princess #the little white horse #dr greta helsing #of mermaids and orisa #girls made of snow and glass

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mapofthemazeinthemirror · 7 months ago

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Three Cursed Princes

*these won't be actual fics, this is just conceptual - I only wrote the synopses

Prince Yeonjun has known almost his entire life of the prophecy with his name. Written mere months after his birth, bringing shadow to cloud his parents' joy, the royal couple's most trusted advisor and skilled seer proclaimed that when the prince found his truest love, it would be at the price of a great sorrow. Whose sorrow, the seer could not determine, nor did she see a name of the one who completed the other half of the fate - the truest love. The tale of the prince's destiny was well known throughout the kingdom, with many parents from respected families discouraged from their aspirations of merging with the royal family through marriage by the warnings of the seers. Despite Yeonjun being the only child of the king and queen due to unfortunate circumstances, they pardoned him from his duty of carrying on the family line, wholeheartedly believing the fate they were sold. As a young man, Yeonjun himself only half believes the fortune that has been attached to his name, following him even in his years of childhood. But when he begins to fall for a girl from a neighbouring kingdom, breaking all the rules to sneak out at night to see her and quickly form a connection, he can't stop hearing the cursed story in his mind.

Though they know they should stay away from each other, though they know the predicted doom hanging over their heads if they give in to their attraction, they just can't bear to be apart. Will they be able to live with the cost of their love?

Prince Beomgyu is about to marry the love of his life. A happy future lies ahead and the couple are excited to begin it. But when the prince is woken in the middle of the night by his distressed council, informing him of a horrible curse that has been placed, threatening to plunge the kingdom into eternal impenetrable darkness, Beomgyu must choose between his own happiness and the safety of his people. He’s horrified to learn that he must sacrifice all memory of the love he holds so dear in order to break the curse that looms over their heads, growing ever closer; he will not recognise her face, her name, all feelings he has ever held for her erased. Her memory, however, will remain untarnished. Feeling he has no choice, the prince agrees, bolting to the other side of the castle where his fiance is staying to see her one last time before the spell takes effect.

Can love break a curse, even if the one you love has no recollection of it?

One should never anger the gods—but the gods like to hide in plain sight. Prince Kai hates hunting, but his uncle, his sole guardian, makes him join the hunting party as it's a long standing royal tradition. While he doesn't enjoy hunting animals, he has been trained in archery since he was young and is very skilled in the sport, never missing a target. On the trip he is pressured into shooting a deer, which it turns out is truly the god of the woods. As penance, the prince is cursed. Kai knows not what the curse entails, and lives in fear of the day he finds out. His uncle scours the land for someone who could divine the details of the magic placed that day, but to no avail; all they can do is wait to see it play out. But I can tell you, reader, the nature of the curse: when the prince finds his true love – and he will — the first kiss they share will draw her into the magic that binds their fate, and she will be forced to spend her days changing between human and doe, with the prince compelled to chase and hunt her against his own will, his own heart, for the rest of their time on earth.

Can Prince Kai find a way to break the spell before it drives him to lose the one he loves?

soobin version taehyun version

#I'm already working on two prince aus and so many other things but I spent the night making these banners for a concept lol. but it was fun #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun imagines #beomgyu imagines #huening kai imagines #prince txt

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veren-cos · 7 months ago

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Gale x Reader (Bg3)

Gn reader with chronic pain

Not proof read at all so lmk if there are any errors!

"Why won't it stop? It won't stop, I can't make it stop. Please! Make it stop!" you cried. It hurt. Every single joint. Every muscle. And it wouldn't stop hurting. It came on suddenly.

Nothing you did could help, so you laid there on your bed and cried... And cried... And cried.

Until you felt him.

"Gale..?" It was barely above a whisper. You had strained your voice in between gasping for air while you wept.

"Shhh, shh. I'm here, it's okay." He sat next to you, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. "It's okay. What do you need?"

"Gale, it won't stop. I can't make it stop!"

"What won't stop, what part?" He helped you with your pain often, just as you help with his.

"My chest. I can't breath right. Something is wrong. Every time I breath I can feel my bones move. They shift. And it stings! Gale, I don't know what to do. I don't know why this is happening to me."

"Shh my dear, You'll be okay.." You knew how worried he would get, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, his face looked like he was in as much pain as you. He started whispering an incantation, but nothing was happening. The pain was alleviated slightly, yes, but you could still feel the shifting. He tried again... and again... and again.

"Love?" You spoke. He tried again. You winced trying to move, but he held you still. He was still trying the same spell. "Dear?" It wasn't working. He tried again. "Gale!"

He immediately stopped and panicked, "OH my, by Mystra, am I making it worse?! I'm so sorry, love, are you okay? It's not working! I don't know why it's not working I should be able to help you!"

"Gale." Another wince from you, another grimace from him.

"If I can't help you what am I good for?"

"Gale!" You were now sitting straight up. This isn't good for him.

"I have all this magic yet I can't even help my partner!"

"GALE!!!" Finally that worked! He stared straight at you, stunned. "Good, I have your attention" your breathing became rough again. Through harsh breaths you began to speak again, "This isn't your responsibility."

"But it i-"

"No! No it isn't, Gale." You took another painful breath, gods all those spells just for it to come back right away. "I'm sorry I panicked earlier. This is just different than normal. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"But-"

"No buts! I love and appreciate that you try and help me, but we know it won't work. You'll just end up hurting yourself and wasting energy in the process. This isn't healthy for you! I can handle it, I have my whole life, another day won't kill me."

The pain was starting to get worse again, the spells coming completely undone after he lost his concentration.

"Love.."

"I'm not done!" He waited for you to begin again, although it took a while. "I need you to know I don't expect you to be able to 'fix' this. I don't need fixing." You were starting to tear up. You felt the urge to cry again.

Gale took a deep breath. "Then what do you need?"

"Well currently" your voice was breaking. "I need some help laying back down... and then maybe some cuddles until I fall asleep?"

"Now that, I can do."

He grabbed beneath your neck and on your side as he laid you on your hip. You liked being snuggled in his arms, allowing him to play with your hair and give you forehead kisses. He stood back up to grab a book and some drinks and a healing potion if you needed it.

"Thank you for being patient with me." He said

"Thank you for being here with me." You replied.

You nuzzled your face into his chest while he picked up his book. He began running his fingers through your hair as he opened it with his other hand. Once he was adjusted, he began reading to you as you slowly tried to make yourself comfortable.

You could confidently say it took a few chapters until you were able to tune out the seering pain enough to feel sleepy, but once you did, the lights went out. It's exhausting. Being in pain is exhausting, but Gale would be there for you every step of the way, and every difficult day. Just like you would be there for him when he started spiraling, whenever he needed.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x reader #tav x gale #gale x tav #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 tav #disabled reader #chronic pain

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angelatmidnight1 · 3 months ago

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Falling Flat

A/N: I'm not sure if you're still here anon, and I can't find the ask anymore, but this is the tickle fic for lee!Seer, ler!Octane story that was requested a while ago. Sorry it took so long. I'm really rusty in this fandom but I hope you like it!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Pairing: Octane and Seer- platonic.

Word Count: 2,335.

Octane was popping off in a match alongside Seer, only to trip over a death box and fall. And, Seer refuses to let him live it down. He makes one playful comment too many before Octane prods at a ticklish spot. He doesn’t get much of a reaction out of him, seemingly not ticklish, but he’s determined. Octane’s determination pays off; Seer is indeed ticklish. He’s just annoyingly good at hiding it.

“Silva, wait.”

Seer hurried after his teammate in a duos match, falling further and further behind. Octane scoffed and jabbed himself with another stim.

“No way, Obi! I want in on this action,” He threw the empty stim over his shoulder, stuck himself with another one, and literally left him in the dust. He whipped out his shotgun, grinning as he loomed in on Containment, where multiple teams were fighting. “I won’t take all of the loot…maybe!”

Seer halted, putting both of his hands on his knees. He wasn’t a stranger to a long run, but keeping up with Octane was impossible. He used his Heart Seeker to scan the area ahead. Sure enough, he detected multiple heart beats. He sighed.

“The show begins,” He unholstered his R301 and threw down his Exhibit to highlight the enemies’ positions. “With luck, we will be the last squad remaining on stage.”

Octane didn’t need any luck. He entered the fray in a green blur, downing enemies left and right. It was either that the enemies didn’t see him until it was too late, or they were too slow to react if they did. By the time Obi got his shots in, Octavio was the kill leader, and death boxes littered the ground like confetti.

“HAHA! What’d I say?” Octane, still riding the high of adrenaline, whirled around and grinned at his teammate. “Told you I’d kick their asses. Didn’t even need any of your fancy tech.”

Seer rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You may not have needed it, but I trust that my exhibit made it easier to locate our opponents. Still, your performance was spectacular. They were not prepared for you.”

As if Octane’s ego needed to get any bigger, he cheered. “¡Gracias, amigo! Now, enough talk,” He stepped over one of the death boxes. “Let’s go find another—”

His foot got caught under the box he intended to step over. Instead, he tripped and hit the ground with an ungraceful splat. Any loot that he picked up spilled out of his inventory, and his shotgun ended up skidding away from him. “Maldita caja (damn box), my foot—”

Seer inadvertently snorted. He turned his head, face hidden by his hat, and chuckled. While Octavio worked on prying his foot free, he gave his teammate a bewildered look.

“Why’re you standing there? Help me move this box,” Octane demanded. The box was heavier than it looked, and the speedster’s foot was really caught. Seer’s shoulders shook with restrained laughter before he got himself together.

“My apologies,” Seer coughed and wiped one of his eyes. He approached him and leaned over to lift the box up. “Here, allow me.”

Octavio would’ve thanked him if Seer’s eyes weren’t glossy with tears. He narrowed his eyes behind his goggles. “Were you just laughing?”

“I was not laughing at you.” Seer answered, smiling. “I hope you are not injured, truly. I just— the manner in which you fell was comical.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Octane bristled. “My foot got stuck under the stupid box!”

“I noticed.” Seer did his best to suppress another chuckle, but he still wore the remnants of a grin. After he helped Octane move the box off his foot, he helped him stand. “Come, I believe I hear more enemies to our west. But allow me to go ahead of you, so I can pinpoint any tripping hazards.”

Octane rolled his eyes, chuckling. For someone as artsy-fartsy as Obi, he had jokes. “Shut up, let’s just go..” He playfully nudged the artist’s side. Seer fidgeted and went ahead. Octavio wasn’t truly upset; it was refreshing that his friend had a funny bone. Rest assured, though, he’d get him back for those little jokes.

The jokes persisted even after the games. As the Legends returned to the drop ship, Seer lounged across a sofa in the common room, watching a replay of the match on his tablet. He sometimes looked at his past matches for a source of inspiration for his art.The cameras caught Octane’s fall and he put a hand over his mouth to stifle his chuckling. This caught Octavio’s attention, who normally didn’t like sitting around, but definitely needed a breather. He had an energy drink in hand as he approached the sofa. He peeked over the artist’s shoulders and chided him.

“You’re still laughing at that? It wasn’t funny!” Octane climbed over the couch and elbowed the man’s side again. “Turn it off.”

Seer chuckled some more. “I am only rewatching the match to inspire my drawings. The arena is dangerous territory and I wish to immortalize memorable battles. Your acrobatics were definitely something to remember.”

Octane narrowed his eyes, feeling a mix of amusement and mild annoyance, before his lips turned into a dangerous grin. “Yeah? You think so?”

Seer’s chuckles died down, giving way to a questioning look. Then, without warning, Octane put his drink down and lunged towards him, fingers prodding into his exposed side. Obi gasped and almost dropped the tablet. Encouraged, Octane dove in again, giving the same side a squeeze. “Go on, laugh it up, fancy pants.”

The artist stiffened and chased after the speedster’s hand with his own, barely managing to catch it. “Octavio, what—”

Octane’s grin widened. He easily pulled his hand out of the man’s grip and wormed his fingers across his stomach. “Ticklish, amigo?”

Obi’s breath hitched, and after failed attempts to re-grab Octavio’s hand, he settled for scooting out of his reach, arm around his torso. “No, I am not. And I apologize, I will refrain from teasing you further.”

“Oh no, we’re way past that,” Octane followed Seer and snickered as he held him back. “Why’d you flinch if you’re not ticklish?”

“It was a reflex,” Seer wrestled with his arms and managed to keep the determined speedster at bay. “Octavio, biko, this isn’t necessary.”

“Like hell it isn’t! You’ve been cracking jokes about me all day. If you’re not ticklish, then this shouldn’t bother you.” The pushing and grappling of arms continued until Octane gained a window of opportunity. With his lightning fast reflexes, he managed to reach around Obi’s arms and use both hands to prod and scribble into his stomach.

Again, Seer jolted. He wasn’t as ticklish as some of the more sensitive Legends, at least not without a softer touch, but Octane was persistent. He was able to refrain from laughing, save for sharp intakes of air, and battled with the speedster’s hands.

“You sure are squirming a lot for someone who isn’t ticklish,” Octane smirked. He stayed two steps ahead of the artist by jumping to a different spot on his torso whenever he tried to grab him. “Makes me think you’re lying.”

“I am n-nohot-” Seer chuckled ever so slightly when squeezed just below his ribs. Both men froze, a knowing glint behind Octavio’s goggles, but the moment was short lived.

Seer rose, intending to create space between himself and Octavio. Octane was quick to follow. He may have had speed on his side, but Obi was incredibly nimble, making it difficult to bring him down. Literally.

“You laughed!” Octavio lunged towards him again, trying to drag him back down to the sofa, but Obi was able to wriggle out of the attempts. “Just admit it and maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

Even while avoiding Octane wriggling fingers, Seer moved with grace. He almost danced out of his grasp and held the speedster back by the shoulders. There was an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.

“You are mistaken, I assure you. Now, let us discuss this calmly without resorting to such antics.”

“Boring!” Octane cut in and twisted in the man’s hold. With a couple of quick, erratic movements, he was free again. “Nope, you asked for this.”

“Then you leave me no choice—” Seer grunted as the speedster tackled him but, this time, he was ready. Before Octane could pin him, his hands shot up and buried under his arms, his finger claws scritching into the soft center of his underarms. Octavio screeched before dissolving into loud laughter.

“HEHEY! N-Nohoho you dohon’t!” Despite his words, and despite sitting on Obi’s waist, Octane swiveled his body to and fro, abandoning his own attack to defend himself. Seer smirked.

“I was hoping to have a conversation, but it seems that this is all you will respond to.” He spoke calmly over his wild cackles and sat up, swiping his fingers in circular motions over the sensitive skin. “That is fine. I am nothing if not adaptable.”

Octane’s laughter only grew louder as Seer’s fingers continued fluttering over his armpits. He doubled over and squeezed over the man’s knees on his way down; not necessarily to tickle, but it earned him a startled yelp. It was distracting enough to get the artist to pause, and Octavio took the opportunity to flip their positions. Octane pinned Seer down on his stomach and went for the same spot: the underarms.

Octane didn’t know to what extent Seer was ticklish; hell, he didn’t expect him to be ticklish at all! Tickling him was a shot in the dark that he didn’t think would go very far. The artist squeezed his arms against his sides as Octane worked his thumbs into the hollows. He squirmed and tried to crawl forward, but Octavio sitting on his back made it impossible.

“O-Octahavio-” Seer pursed his lips to keep from laughing, but a few chuckles still escaped him. He didn’t make it easy for Octane; he writhed and bucked when those quick scritches worked down his ribs, then to his sides. “Wait!”

“Nope. I already told you, waiting’s boring.” The speedster chuckled and reached underneath him to resume tickling his stomach. No matter how much he squirmed, he was able to stay on his back and run his short nails up and down his abdomen. Then, unconsciously, he lightly poked back up his sides, and those restrained chuckles became a lot more prominent.

Octane grinned broadly. “Yeah, totally not ticklish,” Having made the connection, he spidered back up the man’s sides, earning louder chuckles. “Could’ve fooled me, Obi.”

Seer’s shoulders shook as he tried, and failed, to stop chuckling. He squirmed more vigorously as the notion of squirming away became less likely. “I dihihd nohot mehehan- please, wahahait!”

Octane prodded just below the man’s rib cage, relishing in his usual stoic friend’s frantic snickering. “Didn’t mean what?” He repeated, suddenly jumping back to his armpits and scribbling. Seer bucked and laughed deeply. “Didn’t mean to laugh at me, or didn’t mean to call me a klutz?”

“I dihihd nOHOHOt cahahall youhuhu a klutz!” Seer insisted in between bouts of laughter. He desperately squeezed his arms against his sides even more, but it didn’t deter Octane’s tickling. Octane was still able to scrabble around the man’s armpits, alternating between digging into the centers and lightly circling around the area. The latter got a slightly stronger reaction. “Bihihkohoho! I will not tehehease you again, I promise!”

“Yeah, and I’ll start walking everywhere,” Octane laughed. He moved his hands back to his ribs and pinched along the back of them, eliciting even harder laughter. “You were laughing before, right? So go ahead: laugh!”

Seer rocked side to side, his laughter taking on a desperate note as the speedster continued to pinch and knead over his ribs. “I’m SOHOHORRY!” He tried to roll onto his back and trap Octavio’s hands, but he made sure he stayed put. “OcthHAHAvio!”

“Damn, had I known you were this ticklish before, maybe I wouldn’t have thought you were so boring.” Octane snickered and let him turn over. He continued to tickle his ribs, worming in between the bones before raking his nails back and forth, which left the artist in stitches. All of his squirming and laughing made his hat come off, and the tickling continued.

The energy drink that Octavio had earlier had kicked in and, despite having a blast tickling Seer, he needed to stretch his legs. That didn’t mean he had to stop the fun so soon, though. He slowed his tickle attack to a halt, climbing off the man’s waist to stretch his legs. Seer heavily let his head fall back on the ground as he caught his breath.

“You are incorrigible,” Seer breathed. He sat up and gathered his hat off of the ground, brushing off any dust specks. While he spoke, Octane downed the rest of his energy drink. Then, he smirked.

“Don’t get too comfortable yet, Obi. We’re not done,” Octane’s smirk widened as he threw the can over his shoulder. “Just wanted to stretch my legs. But I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“I- what more do you want besides an apology?”

“Forget that!” Octane scoffed. “I’m not really mad. You laughed at me, so it’s only fair that I get to make you laugh too. Ten.”

Seer backed away when the man leaned towards him. He grinned an apprehensive grin. “Surely we can resolve this in another way? Perhaps by sparring in the training grounds?”

“Nope! Nine.”

“Octavio-”

The speedster did a fake-out lunge towards him, laughing when he flinched. “You’re still talking? Eight sevensixfive-”

Seer’s eyes widened and, without another word, he sprinted out of the common room and down the hall. It wasn’t even another three seconds before he heard the metallic whir of Octane’s legs behind him. In his haste to get away, he stumbled over the carpet, and Octane was quick to seize the opportunity. Octavio burst out laughing as he wrestled the man back down.

“Nohoho! Octahahavio! OCTAHAHAVIO!”

While Octane worked on getting his legs down, he squeezed at Obi’s knees, and the man wheezed. He kept his hands there, laughing harder as Obi squirmed like a fish out of water.

“Dude, really? After all that talk, you take a spill like that?” Octane eventually managed to get Obi’s legs pinned underneath him and continued tickling. It’d be a while before he’d let Seer dash off again.

#apex legends fic #octane apex legends #seer apex legends #apex legends tickle fic #lee!Seer #ler!Octane #ticklish!Seer #octavio silva #obi edolasim

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jaysbookofnothing · 5 months ago

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Acotar rambles

Nesta is the oldest sister and the one who was groomed by her mother to be perfect; she was literally prepared all her childhood to be perfect at everything and to be the wife of another man, never getting a life for herself. Nesta is a mean and passive sister that I'm not going to defend, but I hate when the fandom acts like that's all she is. Nesta has trauma herself, almost being married to a rapist and abuser, watching her sister get kidnapped, getting turned into a fae by force, and getting plunged into the middle of a war she should have had no place in. Her and Cassian are also all types of unstable; yes, I know they are mates, but that doesn't mean that they are good for each other. Cassian, repeatedly, let's talk down to Nesta. He doesn't even defend her; he lets his best friend and self-proclaimed brother threaten to kill his mate. Not only that, but he contributes to her self-doubt and hides the truth of her powers, even forcing her to keep secret the fact that her sister might die. I think she just needs a break from the inner circle, a long relaxing vacation with the Valkyries, and some therapy. (I do still hate her for letting a 14-year-old Feyre go into the woods.) Elain...sweet child Elain, God, you are pathetic. I don't mind the girly, peaceful, silent type of character. In fact, I adore characters like those, but Elain isn't it. What she is is just a sad waste. For example, when her 14-year-old sister was going into the woods to hunt animals for their family, she didn't try to use her gardening skills to maybe plant flowers during the spring. Try to use her flower gardening to sell the flowers, make dyes, or do anything else that would help the family. And then there's her whole thing with Lucian; I absolutely despise it. Even with her "thing" with the shadow MF, what she needs is to go off and live her cottage core life away from those poor men. I feel like Sara can still save her character, but I am just tired of her not doing anything. (I know she did things like kill the king and be a seer and all that, but goddamn, is she so bland?) Feyre, she could have been so much more. I liked her fistyness and determination in the first few books, but god did she tire me out by the end. First of all, she has such an "I'm not like other girls" vibe, and it's generally tiring after a while. Overall, she's a decent character. I just hate her ending, like, Why does she turn into a housewife? You're telling me that Feyre Cursebreaker, the woman who waged war on a Fae empire and won, is now a housewife? Honestly, the main reason I hate her ending is because of Rhys. I could get into such a big rant about Rhys; first off, in the first book, he drugged her and parraded her around in a sexual manner while she could not consent as a way of "protecting her." I don't think I have to explain how messed up that is. Next, he always talks about how much Feyre always has a choice in everything and that she can say no and yada yada, but did he give her a choice when he withheld the fact that she would die if she gave birth to their child? No. Did he maybe think of the side effects of sleeping with Feyre while they were both in their illerion forms, such as having a baby with illeion wings? Nope. Speaking of illerions, you cannot tell me that "the strongest fae lord of all time" can't smack some people with bat wings around enough so they stop abusing, clipping the wings, and raping their women. I guess he isn't as powerful after all. Speaking of women who Rhys let's suffer, your telling me he can't help the girls trapped in the Honestly, Rhys doesn't strike me as a good high lord; he is a patheric excuse for a love interest.

The inner circle God, where do I start? The inner circle is supposed to be this type of family, but honestly, it just feels like a group of bullies. They always talk about how powerful they are, how amazing they are, how their family is, etc., but they don't truly accept Lucian into their ranks, nor does Nesta. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys are truly nothing more than emo frat boys. Are we going to skip the part in Silver Flames where they talk about how they used to fuck girls in the same room as each other? Yeah...nasty. Their views on women are mildly concerning as well; it seems like they don't care, but they do. Rhys talks about how much he loved his mom, his sister, and how he would do anything for Feyre, yet he didn't tell her about the child that might kill her. Cassian's mate is Nesta, and he "loves" her, yet he lets Rhys threaten to kill her and talk down to her multiple times throughout the series. Azriel, I forget he exists for the most part; he's kind of a wet, sad dog in the corner crying.

Mor, sweet girl, Mor. I don't know how to feel about her, honestly; good for her for getting out of the court of nightmares, but I'm a bit fishy about what Eris meant by Mor knowing the truth and hiding it.

Speaking of Eris, let's talk about him and Lucian. My two favorite characters (other than Gwen) truly wish nothing more than Lucian to be happy and get a good ending away from the inner circle at the end; he's gone through so much and yet gets treated like a dog. In fact, he still doesn't know that his father is Helion, despite Feyre and Rhys being aware! Eris, I'm really hoping, is going to pull a Rhys and end up being good in the end. I doubt anything that'll make me happy will actually happen, though, so I'll probably just have to stick to headcanons and fanfiction.

#acotar #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #nesta archeron #elain archeron #feyre archeron #book rant

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majorsoapfan · 2 months ago

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I'm curious about ma plinth knocking out Strabo and sejanus hiding sabyn

Hi! Yeah, of course! This is long though, just so you know.

Ma Plinth Knocking Out Strabo

Basically, I have a lot of conflicting and intermixing thoughts about Strabo Plinth as a character. These thoughts ranged from: 'Strabo had been doing what he had thought was the best for his family and had wanted them to have a better life with more opportunities' to 'Strabo hadn't truly thought about how his family would fare personally in the Capitol and had been too blinded by ambition' to 'Strabo betrayed his people and had sided with a culture that would never truly accept him, his intentions and reasoning for doing so were a mixture of good and bad, but had then set his family on a path that meant they spent most if not all of their remaining life isolated/rejected/hated and had then unknowingly financed his son's murderer's rise to power, who would then go on to brainwash his home District in particular and if Ma Plinth had been able to see the future and what his decisions would result in at any point of the process, then she would have hit him with her frying pan.'

It was that last thought especially that made the writer in me perk up and go, 'you, continue'.

That's how it started.

Ma Plinth doesn't have seer abilities in this one (although I am considering a separate fic of the same), but the general gist of this fic is that Sejanus, once again, snaps and decides to break the tributes out of the zoo and is hiding them in the Capitol until he can get them home (details of which including whether he has help or not are still being worked out).

Strabo however, is getting more than a little suspicious of Sejanus' behaviour in the meantime. And after a little investigating, discovers what he's up to. He immediately wants to turn them in, triggering a huge argument with Sejanus about the same.

Only for Ma Plinth to finally have enough and decides to give her cookware another use, catching both Strabo and Sejanus off-guard.

Basically:

Woman snapped, can you blame her?

Sejanus Hiding Sabyn

This fic starts with the Arena bombing and while Marcus still gets captured and tortured, Sabyn, Velvereen and Facet all succeed in escaping.

Sabyn however, is by herself, she survives the fall, but still isn't able to get out of the Capitol. So she's trying to hide/survive when she's found by Sejanus.

Sejanus is so relieved to see her. Yeah, Sabyn isn't Marcus, but she is still a) a kid who doesn't deserve to die, b) from District 2 and therefore home, and finally c) someone who he is able to help, so he brings her back to his apartment to hide her there until he can think of a plan to smuggle her back to District 2.

. . . It doesn't take long though for Ma Plinth to find her. And from there, Strabo. But they become involved in hiding her as well.

Strabo really isn't happy about any of this as he knows that not even their money will save them if they get caught. But he can't turn her in either, because even if he can convince Gaul and the President that he and his wife had no involvement in this, Sejanus is doomed and he's not about to screw over his own son.

From there, the main plot focus on Sabyn's dynamic with each of the Plinths, including a showdown/conversation with Strabo about what he did in the Rebellion.

There are also two B plots currently being planned, but may or may not make the cut.

B Plot 1: Velvereen and Facet trying to survive in the Capitol and figure out a way home, while plotting revenge on their Mentors (particularly Livia, who is demanding Facet's return so she can win her Prize).

B Plot 2: Some of the Mentors, inspired by the way the other tributes were able to run away/not get caught and not wanting their tributes to die, start scheming up ways to get them out.

That's all I have for it for now. Hope you like them.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #asks #ask game #sejanus plinth #strabo plinth #ma plinth #sabyn #sabyn tbosas #fanfiction

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ominous-feychild · 4 months ago

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✦ OC Most Likely Tag ✦

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet!

Rules: Answer with which of your OCs would be the most likely to do the statement, then give new statements for the next person.

Because I love to suffer/torture myself by making obscenely long posts, I'm doing more than just three questions! 😎

Questions from the-golden-comet! - Most likely to burn something while cooking - Most likely to stop a robbery if they see it taking place - Most likely to not tell people they’re sick until they really need the help Stealing from their post, from @paeliae-occasionally! - Most likely to arrive ridiculously early - Most likely to be in a relationship for less than a week - Most likely to secretly be really good at music, but just not tell anyone

Most likely to burn something while cooking?

Crow from Sun and Shadow.

They're straight-up not allowed to cook because of how forgetful they are. There's been a number of times where they'll start something, walk away to get something else, and completely forget that they were in the middle of cooking--leaving the food to burn and/or catch fire.

They're actually capable of cooking and make good food when they're successful, but are much more likely to get distracted and forget what they're doing if it's anything that takes longer than 5 minutes. The only time they'll cook is when they have someone else to keep them accountable.

Or when they're preparing food in secret...

Most likely to stop a robbery if they see it taking place?

A hidden character of the Arcane Rifts, only appearing starting book 3 and becoming a main character starting book 4! His name is Dimitry, haha. (I was not kidding when I've said I have a ton of this series planned out even though I'm still super early in it--)

Dimitry is the biggest goody-two-shoes that ever goody-two-shoed. Also, he grew up in a crime-ridden town, became a police officer, and even rose to becoming police chief until he had to drop from the position to become a healer (magic) instead. So, long story short? Mans hates criminals. (Oh, buddy, you're in the wrong series...)

Otherwise, since y'all don't know of Dimitry and I likely won't be mentioning him much, I'd also like to mention Daleira from Sun and Shadow!

Daleira has mild reality warping powers as a faerie, and not only could she immediately fix the situation with less than a snap of her magical fingers, but she would! Unlike Dimitry, she's aware of the nuance in social structure and how sometimes people are forced into crime, but she's powerful enough that she can question the thief and release them if she thinks they shouldn't be held accountable!

Most likely to not tell people they’re sick until they really need the help?

This is a hard one since I have so many characters like this. 😎😭

I'm going to give this one as a tie between Gene from the Arcane Rifts and Crow from SaS! (They show up again!!! Crow simps be having a field day)

Gene has been deeply traumatized and conditioned to not expect help from anyone else at a young age--and it was so successful that he still refuses to until deep into the book series. He hates opening up, admitting "weakness", and appearing vulnerable, so he just... doesn't. Or, at least, he tries his best not to. Unfortunately, he's not very emotive and had the whole "learned to hide his emotions from his abuser" thing, so he's very successful at masking it when he has problems.

Crow isn't too dissimilar from Gene in this regard! Despite their extremely cheerful demeanor, they're deeply traumatized from things that happened to them as a child (they allude to the fact that their detective father has a lot of criminal enemies--) and don't like people seeing their vulnerabilities, either. Being sick means being weaker, and that means you can't do your job as efficiently. Yeah, Crow doesn't admit to being sick, either.

Most likely to arrive ridiculously early?

Why so many ties??? 😭😭😭

This honor goes to Gene, Quinn the Seer, and the handful of characters who'd purposely show up obscenely early to a meeting spot to make sure there were no traps and survey the area for opportunities for an ambush etc (like Kieran Caron).

Gene shows up super early out of fear of missing a meeting, to be one of those "survey for traps and ambush" characters, and to give himself an opportunity to plan out how he wants to approach the meeting--including possibly ambushing the other person or talking them into a mental breakdown to make them more likely to do what he wants.

Quinn the Seer (son and avatar of the Existence of Fate) would show up, like, 100 years before the meeting on accident, forgetting where he is in the timeline and "showing up for class at high school as an adult" Seer Edition.

Most likely to be in a relationship for less than a week

Oh, boy. Finally getting to address the other MC of the Arcane Rifts.

TAZIN!!! there's a reason he got these songs picked out for him in the "what songs fit these characters?" tag...

Dude's an absolute wreck, has attachment issues, and would both sleep around and randomly "date" people for extremely brief periods of time before "breaking up" with them and running off...

(Y'know, when he's older. Not Early Series, babi Tazin.)

Most likely to secretly be really good at music, but just not tell anyone

Actually, this is halfway canon for Tazin?

He loves singing (and 100% would've tried making a band in middle/high school if he lived in our world), but doesn't share that fact with people. Understandably feels vulnerable about it, though it's in good part because he started off the "hobby" by singing his mom's lullabies and stories. The only characters who know this are Gene (who was supportive of it and actually got to hear him sing a good bit) and Alyona, his (actually) long-term girlfriend of book 2.

I've said this before, but so many of Tazin's problems would've been solved (or at least dramatically lessened) if he just got a guitar and found out about the rock genre.

And I'll say it again--

This was fun! I actually really liked these questions, so I'm going to:

Your questions: - pick 3 of your favorites from the ones I just answered, and answer them yourself!

Tagging (with no pressure!): @honeybewrites @the-letterbox-archives @yourpenpaldee @darkandstormydolls @illarian-rambling

@wyked-ao3 @ath3alin @mysticstarlightduck @huewrite + open tags!

Divider from @cafekitsune

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