#change is hard for me so i like to force it upon myself

[finniestoncrane]

eeeeeeh it was time for change again so i think i've settled on a new format for my posts!! i'll start using it after my event, which is exciting!! and i can still use my old banners because they're perfect for commissions u-u

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you do angst of ford x reader, where reader was Fords assistant and instead of Stanley pushing ford in, reader does while being possessed by bill.

Stanley is still there and they work hard to repair the portal but when Ford does get back he's really upset at reader because he still thinks that they themselves pushed him in and betrayed him. Ford won't let reader explain themselves, he just tells them to "get out his house"

Part 2 is right here

You didn’t want this.

Then again you weren’t the one to push him, Bill was after tricking you into making a deal with him. You should’ve known better than to put any amount of trust in that chaotic dream demon.

You screamed and shouted for either Ford or Stanley to notice the weirdness in your behaviour, the weirdly inhuman smile that spread across your face, anything as you were forced to watch yourself shove Ford into the portal.

‘BILL!’ You screamed but the demon possessing you acted as though he couldn’t hear you as he relinquished control of your body and let you back in it, just so that the last thing you saw of your dear friend was the look of betrayal upon his face as he disappeared into the portal forever.

‘FORD! No! IM SORRY! IM SO SORRY! IT WASNT ME!’ But Ford couldn’t hear you. He was gone thanks to bill you and you knew they no one would ever believe if you were to tell anyone that a demon did the deed. All they saw was what looked like you but not you in any other aspect that counted; However the fact that you were seen doing the crime was enough to fuel their biases against you regardless, fuelled but their needed to be right in everything, and it was difficult to change a persons mind once it’s made up.

‘It wasn’t me���’ you softly murmured to yourself as you collapsed on the floor of the laboratory as a seething Stanley stood behind you.

‘You pushed my brother.’ He snarled. ‘I saw you.’

You only stayed silent, it was better the beer the brunt of the blame then look like a madman trying to plead as to why they wasn’t true, and besides he wouldn’t believe you even if you did manage to make Bill confess before an audience that he had been the one to push Ford while possessed as you. The demonic bastard was far gone now, cackling at the ridicule you were receiving for his actions.

Stanley, not liking that you were silent, pulled you to face him by the collar of your shirt but before he could berate you further, he caught sight of your defeated face and tear stricken cheeks. ‘Go on, blame me because you would be believe me if I were to tell the truth.’ You said with a voice void of emotion. ‘Blame me all you want but I’m the only person who can help you get the portal up and running again. I’m willing to do so but not for you, but for Ford and in hopes of explaining myself to him and pray that he believes me.’ You add and without warning Stanley drops you on your arse and says in a voice equally devoid of emotion;

‘He’ll never believe you, he’s not that stupid.’

And after that interaction you and Stanley spent the next thirty years of your lives together rebuilding the portal, while Stan still blamed you for pushing his brother into the portal, he’s become more lenient as and when he would remind you of the reason you were doing this in the first place; more specifically during arguments after failed test runs of getting the portal open where he’d say to you in the best of the moment:

‘If it wasn’t for you my brother would still be here!’ Before storming upstairs while you remained in the lab, wasting away the midnight oil because you didn’t believe you deserved sleep after all that. You had grown numb to being Stan’s verbal punching bag, and would often times ignore his attempts to forget what happened and make peace with you, for you knew it wasn’t genuine because after you get his brother back you were more then likely to be kicked out of the shack for you had served your purpose for your crime.

So the relationship between yourself and Stan was never good and you tended to only act civil in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, two kids whom you have grown rather fond of during their stay. You remembered the first night they came here and were in high debate on whether they should stay with Stan or leave, you were quick to intervene and said;

‘Your Grunkle Stan is a wonderful man with a big heart despite his rough exterior. So please give him a chance instead of letting first impressions sway your thinking, you’ll be surprised as a result if you do and besides life is meant to be lived without regrets.’

You were literally the reason they decided to give Stan a chance and stay, but you knew you were never going to get that thank you from him, you were the person who pushed his brother into the portal remember? So you just carried on building the portal with him in awkward silence until the day finally came.

The day that Ford came home.

The day should’ve made you happy, ecstatic even but you knew that wouldn’t be the case for you as the moment Ford came out of the portal your blood ran cold.

He was glaring.

He was glaring at you with such a silent rage that you swore that you could’ve been killed by a state like that. But it was also a stare that told you of the damage your betrayal had caused him, he would never forgive you and that was your biggest fear this entire time, a fear that Stan knew and now it was proven true.

‘Ford-‘

‘Stop.’ He told you, breaking your heart. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuse.’

‘But-‘ you tried again.

‘I said no!’ Ford roared as everyone held their breath, even Stanley who had never heard his brother shout, in that moment he actually felt some remorse for you, some.

‘You’re the reason I was trapped in that portal for THRITY YEARS!’ Dipper and Mabel gasped as they too were now looking at you with hurt in their eyes, which made tears appear in the corner of your own.

‘Is it true Grunkle/graunt y/n?’ Mabel asked as dipper glared at you while keeping his sister as far away from you as he could.

‘No Mabel I-‘ you tried to take a step towards her but Ford was quick to cut you off and level you with a glare. ‘Stay away from my grand niece and nephew.’ He growled and you knew there was no point looking back at Stanley, who had kept uncharacteristically quite this entire time.

‘It’s wasn’t me-‘

‘Then who was it who pushed me then y/n?’ Ford asked.

You remained as silent as the day you let Stanley accused you of the same thing. There was no point in making your case when everyone’s minds have been made up, you were the monster in their story and now they were going to be rid of you once and for all.

‘Who?’ Ford asked again as he seethed, his eyes searching your dead ones for answers that have been in his mind for the past thirty years. You were his friend, he thought he could trust you but he guessed wrong, and now he couldn’t look you in the eyes without seeing the very person who shoved him in the portal with a sicken smile across their face.

Ford couldn’t trust you in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, no one was safe with you as far as he was concerned and he wanted to keep his family safe, even if it meant being rid of you once and for all.

When you didn’t say anything to save yourself, Ford points upwards. ‘Get out of my house, I don’t want to see you ever again. You’ve already done enough damage to this family as there is.’

You didn’t have the energy nor fight left in you to scream, shout or anything, you just swallowed the lump in your throat and moved out of the lab as Mabel and Stanley looked at you sympathetically; whereas Ford and dipper only glared at your retreating back.

‘Grunkle/ graunt y/n?’ Mabel called out to you weakly. You only shot her a small smile and mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ She was always your favourite twin but it was time to say good bye and without another word, you pulled off the bracelet that Mable had made for you and threw it on the floor in front of her.

Mabel looked at the bracelet, then back up at you. ‘I made this for you.’ She tells you with tears in her eyes.

‘You deserve better than to put your trust in me my sweet shooting star, I’m a monster in your grunkles eyes,’ you shot a look towards Stan and Ford who were still staring before looking back at Mable, ‘It’s best that you start seeing me that way too because I only cause pain apparently to some.’ You replied and with that you left the shack and the pines family behind, venturing off into the pathway through the woods with nothing but a hole where you here should’ve been.

There was no point fighting your case to Ford, he wasn’t going to hear it, for he was no batter than everyone else and he just pointed the finger at you without second thought. So much for him being unique when he was just like the rest of them, so much like the rest of them that you find it almost laughable.

You’ll gladly stay out of his life, for whatever Stanford pines wished for, you’ll happily oblige as you were only ever the assistant that betrayed him in the end; a traitor.

[s0ulsniper]

im yours. bucky barnes x afab!reader || b.b.

pairings: bucky barnes x afab!reader

synopsis: the power goes off in the tower, leaving you to try to stumble down to the living room where everyone was told to meet.

warnings: she/her pronouns used, cursing, both reader and bucky are teases.

tonight had been more than amusing, but also tiring. leaving your saturday night to tony's plans was definitely a choice that you cannot stop making. to give him some credit, his parties are definitely fun, and hanging out with everyone on top of that, too.

but- it always leaves you sprawled out on your bed with the dimly lit television the only thing lighting up your room, other than the obvious street lights.

your head was pounding and your body ached, nothing could quite help that especially with how little you care to help yourself.

that's when the tv shutoff. at first you suspected it was just a glitch of some sort and your groaned as your reached for the remote.

it didn't turn on, even after the 42nd time of pressing it. you took it upon yourself to glance out of the window, moving your curtain slightly to peer out.

none of the city had any sort of power outage.

weird.

the next thing that came to mind is one of the idiots are pranking you.

your eyes roll at the thought. how selfish could they be knowing that you were trying to rest? maybe tony got too drunk and decided to fuck around.

you settled on just going to find out for yourself.

wow, gotta thank tony for not giving out any sort of flashlights.

you use any force you have left to rise yourself from bed. your muscles ache and you wish this didn't ever happen.

the pitch black darkness didn't help you either, everything you knew was there you bumped into causing you to let out a string of curses and you were sure anyone in a 30 foot radius could hear it.

you eventually find your way into the hallway, thankful for some sort of light from the windows.

you get a text, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket.

you open it to read Tony announcing that he had infact overloaded some sort of something and he's going to have to fix it, so everyone was to meet in the living room.

"perfect." you sigh out, annoyed.

not only is that the furthest from you but you knew it would be at least a few hours until it's fixed.

you turn around to the opposite direction, failing to notice the plant at your feet.

"fuck." you grumble when your foot makes contact with the pot.

you whince, trying to walk on it but failing miserably.

"seriously? you’ve lived here for how many years, and you still can’t find your way around with the lights off?” you hear someone laugh behind you.

"don't wanna hear it right now, bucky." you mumble.

his demeanor changes and he pushes himself off the wall to catch up with you.

"what's wrong, doll?"

"oh nothing, just having an amazing night." you retort, sarcastically.

he almost audibly cringes at that, first no nickname, then the sarcasm? something is definitely wrong.

he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking and pulls you towards him, embracing you in a tight hug.

" 'm not letting go till you tell me what's wrong, doll." he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

you relax at his touch and he notices, rubbing incoherent shapes into the dip if your back.

"just real tired, buck. went too hard on myself during training today 'n partied a little too hard."

you loved it when he hugged you like this, the contrast of the cold metal and warm body was only something he would let you know of, well and Steve.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. you really gotta tell me when you feel like this. coulda been helping you." he whispers, rubbing your back and hips. " 'specially since I know how you are. always neglecting yourself. doll, you need a break."

and before you know it he picks you up. on instinct you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his arms hold your thighs.

"what are you doing?" you quiz as you feel him start to walk, not fast but enough to get you guys going to the living room a couple stories down and on the opposite side of the building.

" 'm not letting you walk, just go to sleep doll."

you don't push it more than that, dropping your head to his shoulder with your arms loosely above his, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

you wakeup from the ambiance of your friends talking, feeling yourself slouched against someone on the couch. the lights were still well off, and you were sure it had only been maybe 30 minutes.

you raise your head to see a couple of candles lit here and there. it was enough to see everyone scattered across the living room, Bruce and Nat were chatting on the opposite end of the couch, Steve and Sam sound asleep on the floor, Thor was also sound asleep on the recliner, Pietro, vision and Wanda were sat on another couch watching something on their phone, and you suspected Bruce, Tony, pepper, and rhodey were trying to fix the power somewhere around the tower.

that's when you panicked to look around for bucky, eyes darting around the living room.

"right here, sweetheart." he chuckles.

you turn too see that you were definitely straddling him as you had been when he picked you up.

your lips quirk up trying not to laugh at yourself. instead you slump back against him, hiding your face in his neck.

"embarrassing." you mumble.

"it was cute." you can practically hear him smiling.

"you think so?" you tease, bringing your face up just a few inches from his.

his face flushes and you smile.

"sure know how to shut me up." he whispers not to bother the others. "be mine."

it was unexpected, although it's the only thing that's been on both of your minds for awhile.

"sure know how to shut me up." you whisper back with reddened cheeks.

he nudges your face up with his pointer finger, his face even closer than before.

his eyes dart from yours to your lips.

"say the word and I'll stop."

his hand doesn't leave your chin, but instead slides to the nape of your neck to draw you closer until you feel his lips on yours.

your lips move together like puzzle pieces and it's something you two have been waiting for and dreaming about for eternity it felt like.

you pull away despite you both not wanting to, either way you two are still around the rest and it cannot get further than that.

your foreheads rest together, both regaining the breaths you lost.

"please be mine." he whispers just so you could hear.

you lay back against him to fall back asleep.

"I'm yours." you whisper back.

[fhrlclln]

y'know what, qimir deserves to be a babygirl sometimes. what about a fic where he's on the early stages of training softie!y/n so they're still not well versed in using the force, but once vernestra tried to attack qimir, he was surprised that y/n could wreak havoc like that 😁

p.s. i LOVE u fics sm <333

you give me strength | qimir

SUMMARY -> in a weak moment, he thought his life would end right there in the hands of his former master's final blow, but he thought otherwise when you showed up.

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WARNINGS -> sweet moments before disaster, slight tension, qimir's a softie, violence, mentions of blood, fight scene

WC -> 2.14k

a/n: I'M BACKKKKKKK. midterms are finally over! but some requirements are still pending to be passed but overall, my schedule has finally gotten a bit looser. hope u liked this anonz, sorry for the wait!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"good. lift your elbows up a little more."

you obey, clutching your lightsaber tight as you fix your stance. hoping you did it right this time. there's a tug of a smile gracing his lips as qimir observes you from where you stand. determined as ever to learn.

"relax your grip. not too tight on the hilt, you may never know when to switch hands in a fight." he fishes out his own saber, showing you the relaxed grip he has. you listen, doing the same. he admires these times, now that his need to hide his identity from you wasn't of need anymore, training you became more... comforting.

"yes, master." you nod, and he lightens at your strong will.

"good. now, don't think of your weapon as a weapon. treat it as an extension of you. we'll practice now." he softly says, the waves crashing in the background making this lesson more relaxing. "you have already mastered the forms i have taught you. next step, we will be sparring. and i will be your opponent."

"oh..." there's a flash of uncertainty on your face. you didn't expect your first spar to be with him.

"are you worried for me?" he jokes, and you roll your eyes.

"i think i'm more worried for myself, master." you say back with a sarcastic tone. he chuckles as he lights his saber, the crimson glow catching your eyes. you always admired how he fights, and now that you'll experience it first-hand, you are a bit worried.

"you don't need to." he grins, readying his stance as he lifts his arm up, the crimson light illuminating his face as he looks at you with a shine in his eyes. "i'll be gentle."

your heart skips a beat at his tone. you merely nod, still uncertain if you should go full-on with an attack you had in mind. you don't want to hurt him.

"you take the offensive. i will defend myself." he motions you to start. you steadied yourself, feeling your saber in your hand, the force flowing through you. qimir stands still, waiting for your move. and you start, swiftly doing a normal slash and it clashes with his saber. the familiar sound of two beaming lights hitting. he watches you, even though he's now fastly defending himself, how quick you are to change forms. just like him, his attacks were rough and hard, with no mercy to place upon a real enemy. he's proud, even though he knows you still are holding back from him to unleash your potential.

"defend yourself now!" he shouts between clashes of your sabers. both crimson lights illuminating your faces. he takes the initiative to procure his own offense, teaching you to quickly defend yourself. and just like that, you two are moving in a tandem. you dodge his attack to your neck, and he dodges your uppercut. he admires your passive face, loving the way you are exceeding his expectations as his acolyte.

the situation escalates quickly. he sees that you are determined to strike him down, and this fuels him to unleash half of his real strength in a fight. but you retaliate, watching his every move, but not focusing entirely too much. he's surprised now as you dodge his slash quickly, and you pop up from behind him. he turns around, and then he sees it, you holding up your saber, putting all your strength in it. his eyes widened for a moment, a flash of a memory peering into his mind. one he had forgotten but resurfaced out of all times.

"master-" you faltered, and he quickly fixed himself as he took in your distracted face. his saber was about to slice your chest, but you quickly deflected his attack, stumbling back. he's at a distance from you now. your chest heaves, and so does his. he shakes his head as he turns off his saber, tucking it to his belt.

"do not falter even for a moment." he firmly said. "in a real fight, there is no time to think. do not always rely on your saber, use your connection with the force. i almost plunge my saber into your chest."

"but... i-i almost-" you stuttered, turning off your saber. you almost injured him.

"i would have defended myself with your attack." he sighs. "you need to stop holding back. you were excellent, but i need to see more of what you are hiding in there." he points to you. you only nod silently. he then softens his face, seeing you disappointed with yourself again. he walks towards you, and you nervously look up at him.

"don't doubt yourself. you were great." he takes your hand holding your saber to his.

"i don't think i can kill someone." you confessed, the comfort of his warmth making you vulnerable. "is that bad?"

"no." he shakes his head, putting his other hand on top of yours. "mercy is a kindness. but it is not a necessity. remember, the enemy will think of killing you, as you are as well."

"i understand." you nod, looking away from him, still ashamed. qimir still observes you, wondering how you still have more humanity left in you than him. and how soft he has become than before to you.

"have you been practicing with the rocks?" he asks. another thing he had to verse you in is your connection with the force. you had trouble using your emotions to put more power in yourself. you were still hesitant to put your rage in, and he knows you choose not to use it.

"yes." you say, he then touches the side of your face, ushering you to look at him. "i'm not...- it still didn't work."

"that's alright." he sighs, admiring your pretty face. "we'll work on it."

・゜゜・．

"but master-"

"you will listen to me." qimir shuts you up as your face contorts into a series of emotions ranging from confusion to nervousness. his robotic voice sends shivers down your spine as he opens the starship's door. you gulped, how things escalated so quickly. days after your sparring session, qimir had planned a quick trip and a lesson for you on some planet in the outer rim. things were going smoothly, yet the moment he felt his former master's presence lurking, everything fell into shambles. and now here you are, begging him that you should come with him as he will confront his own painful past.

"you take a step outside this ship. i will knock you out." he threatens, his own emotions going into disarray. despite the fear coursing through him at the thought of vernestra, he knew he had to do this. he had to face his last obstacle towards true freedom. you stand there, silent, your eyes watering at the thought that he might not even come back. you stuttered, wanting to tell him something, but he swiftly exited, holding his saber tight in his fist. he wanted to look back at you, knowing it might be his last, but he willed himself not to as he ignored your pleading stare.

the starship's door slowly closes, and the last thing you see is his figure getting smaller and smaller from where you stand.

he walks, each step he takes is a step closer towards his imminent death- or his absolution. he closes his eyes momentarily behind his mask, imagining your face. a surge of determination floods through him.

he will not die.

but…

“surrender now!” his former master’s voice roared through the dense forest. he shuddered, clutching his wounded side as he shakily held himself up. vernestra glares at him, her purple sabe-whip taunting him. he shakily lets out a breath, his own resolve crumbling as blood seeps into his black robes.

he can’t do it.

he can’t.

it repeats in his mind, this very scenario haunting him as he remembers how he got his scar. his hand shakes, and the saber in his other hand is still tightly held. but his own body is telling him to stop. he shakes his head, choosing to use the force to push her back to gain some leverage. he can't give up now. not when you are still on the planet, and if he fails, she'll take you next. he refuses to surrender now, vernestra countered his move, swiftly dodging his last resort, raising her saber up as a look of sadness crossed her face for a moment.

“you leave me no choice.” she says as he is thrown back as she jumps towards him, ready to land her final blow.

his eyes widened for a moment; flashes of your face and the recent memory of you two sparring calm him. he doesn’t want to feel fear before vernestra finishes him. his heart stops for a moment as he watches his former master near him, her purple saber flashing through his eyes just like before. him begging for her to stop, he was so young-

but it doesn’t happen.

he sees his former master get thrown to the side roughly before she can whip her saber. he stumbles back, sitting on the cold ground as he clutches his bleeding side. vernestra makes a strained noise as her back hits the tree behind her hard. his chest heaves as he looks at the offender who managed to catch his former master off-guard.

and there you were.

your hand is still stretched out as you ignite your saber in your other hand. he is stunned for a moment, feeling the raw power of the force emanating within you. your aura crawls through his body and he shivers at that. but what shocks him more is that visceral look of fury plastered on your face. he wants to say something as he tries to reach out to you, but it's cut off as he hears vernestra shout something at you. he can't focus, the shock in his body is slowly fading, and he's close to passing out from the lack of blood. he hastily removes his helmet as a last resort to see you fully. and his eyes are presented with a gruesome scene of you dueling his former master.

you, his timid acolyte, wreaking havoc for him.

before the darkness takes him, the last thing he sees, and he doesn't know if it's a figment of his muddled mind, he sees you appear swiftly from his master's behind- as quick and brutal as you shove your crimson saber down, and he hears his former's master gurgled voice. his eyes blink, his vision getting blurry, he breathes out your name as the darkness sweetly takes him.

・゜゜・．

he groans awake... the soft embrace of a warm blanket is the first sensation he feels. the second is a dull but painful sensation on the lower side of his abdomen. he groans at that, his eyes blinking as his vision adjusts to the dim light in the room. he's back in the starship from what he can blindly make out. his mouth is dry as he mumbles something out as his vision sets. his heart thumps as he finally sees you, sitting by the edge of the bed, looking at him softly. the contrast of how your expression was moments ago as he remembered, a swell of pride engulfs him.

"hey... try not to sit up." you say softly in greeting. "we don't have a bacta patch in the ship... so i bandaged your wound." you explained as you stood up, fetching him some water.

"wait." he weakly stops you, reaching his arm out at you. you obeyed, walking near him.

"yes, master?" you asked gently.

"you did well." he offers a weak smile. "i'm proud of you. even though you disobeyed my orders."

you blink, a little shocked, but you smile as well. "i learned from the best."

he chuckles at that, the irony of how "the best" almost surrendered to his former master in a weak moment. you sense the distress from him as you sit down next to him. he watches you, observing your next move.

"i mean it." you say, qimir stays silent as he shakes his head. "you taught me not to fear... and i finally did learn. and i wasn't going to leave you at the hands of her... you gave me the strength."

the shine in your eyes of genuineness has him melting. he takes a moment to look at you of how close you are as his hand comes up to grasp your hand on your lap. there's a moment of silence wherein you two just stare at each other in comfort. the danger was finally at rest. the thought of his former master was now gone... though, he did grieve what was before. he smiles, rubbing circles on your skin as he softly whispers back.

"and i you."

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[sillymercury]

Make You See My Crazy

AzrielxReader

<3

Warnings: some slightly sexual themes

Word count: 7.9k

It’s split into parts only bc I can’t stop yapping

Summary: Upon joining the inner circle you expected excitement, movement, enterprise. Instead you were faced with mundane, every day was nearly the same and repetitive motion was killing you. It’s hard sneaking around the person you love but it’s inevitable when they’re the one holding you back.

Part 2 to I’m not the Crazy One, She Is

<3

I thought working with the inner circle would be action packed; missions, fighting, or infiltrating other courts. I imagined myself having serious debriefs with Rhysand and far off adventures with Mor or Azriel. But for the first year and some change it’s just been training. Every. Day.

I guess it was to be expected, I had to be thoroughly prepared; even if what I was being prepared for was the impossible.

Some of the scenarios Azriel would throw at me were absolutely off the wall; like being shrunken down and hidden under a walnut casing, being drugged with hallucinogenic cookies that make the enemy seem like friends, being eaten by a shark? It was deluded. I asked him if any of those things ever happened to him, his answer; “Unimportant. It could happen to you.”

I thought I was flying through training with flying colors, and so did Rhysand and Cassian and Nesta and Gwyn and Feyre and Emerie and Morrigan and Amren and pretty much everyone other than Azriel. He always found something to correct or have a question with no right answer. At first it was funny, but then I mastered the sword, dagger, staff, bow and arrow, and my personal favorite nunchucks. Now it’s just condescending.

The time I wasn’t preparing for the impossible I was working on strengthening my powers with Amren and Nesta. I’ve had control of my abilities for the better part of two centuries but using them for combat was different. I had mostly used them to get what I want, adopting strangers on the streets powers to make my night more interesting. Now I was using people’s own powers against them. My abilities expanded beyond what I ever thought, what I had ever attempted. I can connect with at least 3 people, stealing power from multiple sources. I can also connect over a distance but that’s only for people that I know, if I can envision them in my minds eye and envision their powers I can connect from virtually anywhere.

Ive never felt more powerful, more formidable, more like a force to be reckoned with than since I’ve begun working with the inner circle. But for some reason, a reason that edged my last nerve Azriel didn’t see it.

“I can take on anyone in this godsdamned court and hold my own, but it’s always ‘you’re not ready’ ‘you need more training’ ‘what if something terribly unlikely happens?’” I groaned at I threw myself back onto Nesta and Cassian’s shared bed. The female was perched at the top, legs tucked underneath herself, watching me with a sly expression.

“It’s because he likes you,” Nesta teased, a knowing smile making its way onto her face.

I flipped myself over and bit my bottom lip, failing at controlling my smile. “I know,” I said dreamily, I could feel my face heat as I thought of the shadowsinger. “But that’s another thing, he likes me, I know he does. But he’s also distant, not physically but emotionally. He’s holding back from me and I don’t know why. Like go king! Give me nothing!”

Nesta laughed as she slid onto her stomach as well, face close to mine, “That’s just how these Illyrians are. They only want love if it’s torture.”

I rolled my eyes at her words, “What did you read that in a book or something?”

“Or something,” she smirked and I chuckled at response shaking my head. “I can’t help you with your love sick yet sickeningly distant Az but in terms of putting you in the field; talk to Rhys. Tell him that you feel more than ready to have a mission of your own.”

I groaned, sneaking around Az didn’t feel right. I wanted him to see me, see what I’m capable of and want me by his side. “Okay,” I said while I picked at my nails. I peaked at the female and she gave me a pointed look, “Okay!” This time I spoke with more conviction. Standing up I stamped my foot with my hands on my hips “I am going to talk to him,” I turned my head to glance out the window, night had taken over the sky, “tomorrow morning.”

It was Nestas turn to groan, her face fell into the bed as she shook her head, “Your just as bad as Azriel.”

“Come on. It’s late, he’s probably in bed. Plus last time I went to him this late…” I shuddered. Nesta just laughed, obviously recalling the story of me winnowing into Rhys’ office and seeing my high lord and high lady in a… compromising position. “Alright,” I stretched, “I’m going home, don’t wait for me at training. I’ll see Rhys bright and early!”

Her face held mock conviction as she nodded once. I just laughed and leaned over to press a loving kiss to the females head, “Bye!!!!” I sang as I channeled Rhys from afar and winnowed myself home.

I was offered a room at the House of Wind and I stayed there most nights but I still kept my cottage. With the egregious checks Rhys wrote me every month I could afford my own little castle but this was home. A new fae had moved in next door, a very nice one, and the corner was cozier than ever before. Also with Az away, the house of wind felt… colder; I needed the warmth of my space.

I went through my night routine; stripping the leathers I had grown accustomed to wearing, cleaning my hair and skin, and climbing into bed with a shirt that Azriel definitely knew was missing. As I laid I contemplated what I would say to Rhys, he has said he thought I was ready but he still backed up Azriel. I shook my head, deciding I couldn’t wait until morning.

Rhys, I whispered into his mind. Channeling his power I was able to slip past his barriers, something he was truly disturbed to find out I could do. Rhys, I tried again a little louder when he didn’t answer.

Stop using my power against me, he spoke, frustration clear. I hate when you do that.

I giggled into his mind, finding out that mental barriers don’t work against me was a pleasant surprise for me and a source of grief for Rhys. Powers are connected to emotions so the more passionate I made someone the more control I could take over their magic. I need to talk to you.

It can’t wait? I’m… busy. I knew exactly what he meant and shivered as war flash backs played in my brain.

Ewwww, I ragged. I suppose it can. I turned in my bed, making myself comfy.

The silence didn’t last long, Never mind, Nyx just woke. What do you need Y/n?

I paused, a hundred persuasive and graceful ways to ask came to the forefront but I chose succinctness. I want to go on a mission.

He paused, from inside his mind I could hear the wheels turning but out of respect for his privacy I cast my glance away. Waiting until Az is out of town, are you trying to get me in trouble?

No! I just… I’m ready. There was nothing else to say, I’m ready. I know it, Rhys knows it, everyone in this circle knows it; it’s time for me to prove it.

I heard him click his tongue, thinking of how to deny me nicely. I filled his head with my disappointment, my hurt from being consistently passed over. A sigh was heard, and I felt his conviction break.

Okay, I have an idea. See me in the morning.

I didn’t let my excitement slip into his mind but I’m sure he heard it in my voice, Okay, okay! Perfect. I’ll see you!

I disconnected from him and rolled over, giggling into my pillow and kicking lightly under my blanket. I wondered what Rhys had planned, I tried not to let my imagination get me too excited but as I fell into rest depictions of other courts circled my mind.

-

Azriel landed in the training ring with a swift silence. His leathers were glistening in the sun, clean and shiny. He picked up the habit of cleaning them before returning right around the time you started spending nights in the House of Wind. The thought of you seeing him covered in blood unsettled him, he knew deep down you wouldn’t truly care but he wanted to protect you nonetheless.

His bright eyes scanned the ring; priestesses, Valkyrie’s, and a very loud Cassian controlled the space. No you.

She’s not here, his shadows informed him. Upon further prompting his shadows informed him that you weren’t at home, or with Rhys. His eyebrows knitted with confusion as he continued to glance around. It wouldn’t be the first time you skipped training, he pictured the time he caught you tucked into a high-end dress store when you were meant to be in the ring.

He was prepared to take to the skies, ready to find where you were hiding before his brother cut him off, “Az, honey! Not even a hello?” Cass was walking toward him with a natural ease and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“Hello brother,” was all he offered. His voice was void of emotion but his heart was full, coming home to family was always enjoyable. Especially after spending time in the dark tunnels of the Hewn City, seeing someone with a smile on their face was appreciated.

Cass wrapped strong arms around Az’s shoulders, holding him tight. Azriel just returned the favor with two quick taps on his back under his wings.

“I need to go find Y-“ he didn’t make it through his sentence before Cassian cut him off.

“You need to come see these priestesses,” with an arm around Az’s shoulder he led him further into the ring. “We’ve got six more priestesses picking up swords, we have a little battalion on our hands.”

Az lightly smiled and nodded, letting his brother lead him. He figured you could have the day off, you deserve it. You had been doing amazing, you were a quick learner; swift, light on your feet, and knew how to finish strong. Your fighting coupled with your power, you would be daunting in the felid; when you were ready… when he was ready to let you be ready.

Az knew you would hold your on, connecting to his power you would be the assets he always needed but he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from that part of his life as long as he could.

The better part of the morning and early afternoon were spent with the priestesses. Helping them with their swordsmanship, correcting techniques and giving confidence where it was needed. Cass and Az felt something like pride as the watched the females taking back the power that was stolen from them. With training behind them the boys gathered around the island in the extravagant kitchen, chatting with Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta about the progress being made. You stayed in the back of Azriel’s mind, not being at training and not showing up as the day pushed on. He tried to keep cool about it, you were sensible and strong and he didn’t need to keep you on a leash, but with training 3 hours behind him his hands started to itch at the lack of your presence. His attentive shadows kept him updated, you still weren’t at your house or any of Rhys’.

“So where’s Y/n?” He asked, trying to remain casual as he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the stone island. Lunch had came and went without a word from you. Gwyn’s eyes widened for a fraction of a a second but Emerie quickly pulled her into conversation pertaining to their upcoming book club. Weird.

Nesta just pursed her lips and shrugged coolly, a light shake of her head accompanying the motion. Cassian on the other hand was staring into the tea he that had suddenly became very interesting. That was weirder. If Cass didn’t know he would’ve came up with some witty remark like, ‘she probably found a hot male with emotional maturity’ or ‘she has your account information, probably running you into the ground.’

He stalked a little closer to his brother, Cass just dipped his head further towards his cup. Az bit his cheek, thanking the mother for his brothers inability to keep a secret or produce a good lie.

Az wrapped a wing around his brothers form and dipped down too, “If you put your nose any further into that cup, you’ll drown.”

“Huh? Oh!” Cass laughed as he stood up straighter. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, trying to gain some semblance of confidence. Nesta gave him a look and he turned away quickly, unfortunately for him he turned directly toward Az. The only thing he could do was offer a nervous smile.

Az returned the favor with a saccharine grin, got him. “Where is she Cass?”

“Who?” He asked dumbly. He clenched his fist to keep from slapping his face, he was under the fire of his brothers gaze and he was choking. Az just raised his eyebrows and gave him a pointed look. “Oh, Y/n. Pfft I don’t-“ he tried to do what Nesta did, pout his lips and shrug coolly. He didn’t look cool. “I don’t know. Where is she Nesta?” His voice suddenly carried a faux confusion as he turned to his mate, attempting to take attention off of himself.

Nesta glared, “I. Don’t. Know,” she bit out through gritted teeth. Cass gulped, knowing no matter how this ended he was screwed. He just nodded, humming at her before turning to Az, offering up another lame shrug.

Az looked between the two for a second before glancing over at the other two fae. Their conversation had stopped to take in the scene, at the instant of Azriel’s eyes they quickly turned away and began speaking again.

Az just nodded, the picture of calm. Cassian gulped yet again, he knew he was the weakest link and that Azriel would press him specifically for information. Cassian’s fears were confirmed when the sick smile returned to Az’s face and a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. “Cassian,” Az’s voice was low, slow, “Where is she?” The calmness and gentleness of his words sent a shiver down Cassian’s spine.

“I don’t know, truly,” he was folding. Nesta shook her head before placing it in the arms that were folded across the counter. “She was begging and she wouldn’t let up. Said she was super determined and no wasn’t a viable answer so Rhys caved, sent her on a mission this morning.”

“Good gods,” slipped from Nestas lips. Hand braced on her shaking forehead as she looked into the distance, questioning the mother.

“What?” Az’s grip turned to iron and his brother cringed at the force. He looked between the four in the kitchen, everyone knew. Everyone knew and wanted to keep it from him, if he wasn’t losing his mind he might feel bad.

Nothing else was said, there was nothing left to say, Azriel’s pace was rushed as he pushed through the balcony doors and into the sky.

“Azriel,” Rhys breathed. If the frustration wasn’t clear in his voice, it showed in the way his hands slid down his face.

“Rhys,” he pressed, “I know I just- she just needs more time.” Rhys shook his head at his brothers words, disagreeing. He knew if it were up to Az you would never leave the safety of Velaris. “How would you feel if it was Feyre?” Az’s pushing earned him a growl.

“If you remember, it was Feyre. I had to let her fight far before she was ready. Even so, Y/n is leagues ahead of Feyre.” Az shook his head now, desperately trying to find the words to convince his brother. “If we keep her stagnant any longer the poor female will become destitute.” Azwas quickly becoming hysterical, you meant so much to him and putting you in the line of fire… Hot angry tears pooled on his bottom lash despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, continuing to shake his head as he began clenching his fist. He was fighting so desperately to take control of this situation but Rhys was hard headed and determined to try out his new toy.

“It’s not going to be easy, it will never be easy dealing with the possibility of your mate getting hurt. But if you’re just going to coddle her then what’s the point of bringing her into this circle? She is smart, and strong, let her prove it.”

Az let out a chopped breath. It was his turn to bring his hands to his face, shamefully hiding the tears Rhys was already aware of. He didn’t speak for a moment, pondering. When he brought her in he had to admit he didn’t think of this. He saw it as an excuse to have her close, bring her into the family and keep her around. But after getting close to her, learning her, loving her, he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to keep her hidden from the dark world he had come to know so well. He wished she was offered a different position even though her powers were an amazing defensive and offensive asset; he never wanted to use it.

He shook his head one more time, “I just need more time.” His pleading voice broke and Rhys softened at the sound. All he’s ever wanted for his brother was to feel that earth shattering love like the one he felt for Feyre. How could he tell him those fears were invalid? That they don’t have basis? They’re wrong? He couldn’t and when Az let out one more shaky, “Please, brother,” he couldn’t say no.

Azriel landed in front of the river house with a thud, no shadowy elegance and no preternatural silence. His heightened emotions pushed all of that out of the way to make room for his task; find Rhys, kill Rhys.

He stomped through the house, making his presence and his anger known. He didn’t bother to knock on Rhys’ office door, just blowing it wide open. His high lord sat in his large leather chair while his high lady was perched on the edge of the desk, engaged in loving conversation.

The slamming doors caught their attention as Azriel stopped short of Rhys’ desk, growling his name.

“I figured you’d show up here soon enough, do you have your mission report?” Rhys was calm as he leaned back in his chair, observing Azriel and his pristine leathers and contorted face. Az wanted to stick his eyes and shake Rhys until his head fell off.

“You know that’s not why I’m here,” his voice was low as he struggled to form a sentence and not a fist.

“Oh?” Rhys feigned innocence and Azriel’s grip slipped, fists taking place at his side. “Why are you here then brother?”

A low scoff made its way out, Azriel had to look away to collect the parts of him he could. He didn’t want to play this stupid back and forth game, he wanted to find you. Blowing up on Rhys wouldn’t do anything good for him so he bit out his next words, “My mate. Where is she?”

“Ah, yes.” Rhys just nodded as he continued to look Azriel up and down, sizing how far he could push him. Feyre on the side held a confused face as she tried to decipher the situation. Azriel’s mate? How would Rhys know where she is? A low growl reverberated through Az and his brother just clicked his tongue in response. “She’s fine Az, please-“

Azriel cut him off, walking closer to brace his hands on the desk, “I told you she wasn’t ready. She needed more time to-“

It was Azriel’s turn to get cut off as he held up a hand, “No. You said you weren’t ready. You said you needed time. I gave you time, that times up.”

Az growled again, hands gripping the desk with so much force the wood under his hands groaned. His eyes were wild and his face displayed so much fury Feyre thought he might jump over it and tear into Rhys. “Az…” she said tentatively.

“Did you know?” He looked at her accusingly, not being able to hold his rage back from her. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her heart, her hair slid over her shoulder as she shook it back and forth.

“Know what Az? You found your mate? That’s amazing, I-“ Feyre tried to lighten the mood, choosing to focus on the good parts of the conversation.

Az rolled his eyes away from her and back to his brother. “Yes, I did find her.” His eyes held his brothers in challenge, Rhys didn’t back down but Az would either. “It’s a shame though, Rhys seems adamant on getting her killed.” He leaned in slightly, baring his teeth on the last word.

The thought of you out there, alone, in a potentially dangerous situation made his brain fog. His whole body twitched; desperate to tear apart the entirety of Pyrthian until he found you. Deep down he knew his feelings were irrational, Rhys wouldn’t send you somewhere dangerous for your first mission, solo to boot. He knew that you were fierce in your fighting technique. He knew that the reservoir of powers you could access made you one of, if not the most, powerful fae in Pyrthian. He knew you didn’t need him to protect or guard you and that you wanted this. Knowing all of those things doesn’t make it any easier though.

“She’s not- Az please,” Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, trying to will away the headache his brother was giving him. “Feyre, baby, give us a moment.”

She just nodded, eyes still examining Az as if she’d find her answer written on his face. She leaned into the kiss Rhys placed on her forehead before moseying out of the office. Rhys pushed himself away from the desk and to the large couch in his office. He grabbed two glasses and the decanter off the liquor cart before sitting down. Az watched silently as he poured two neat glasses of whiskey and sipped one while offering the other.

When Az didn’t move he sat the other glass down and stared at it before saying, “She’s in no danger brother. But you might want to have a drink before I tell you where she is.”

Az’s hands returned to fists and he just stared, zeroed in on Rhys like a deadly predator. Rhys rolled his eyes and gestured to the spot on the couch next time, insinuating he wouldn’t speak until Az at least sat down. Begrudgingly he followed his brothers instructions though sitting down didn’t display any comfort as he was still rigid.

Rhys just watched his brother, looking at him as if the right way to inform him of his mate’s whereabouts would be written on his skin somewhere. The stare only unnerved Az, his skin started to prickle at the attention he was receiving and his vague patience was slipping.

He took a deep breath before grabbing the drink, downing it in one go. It didn’t help his nerves but he let out a sigh anyway before turning back, “Where is she?” His voice was calmer now, the anger was replaced with desperation, exhaustion.

Rhys let out a sigh too, leaning back he stared for a moment longer. “She’s in the day court, where she will remain for the next month and a half.” Az’s eyes widened and with furrowed eyebrows he insisted Rhys go on, “After that she will spend a month and a half in dawn, then winter, summer, and possibly autumn. I’ve spoken with Eris but I’m not entirely sure if we’ll be able to slip her in past Beron.”

Az shook his head, trying to grasp the information being given to him. “Wait you sent her through the courts? For the next 8 months? Why?”

“More training,” he leveled a look at Az whose face still displayed confusion. “Apparently what we’re doing here isn’t enough, so she will train with our closest allies. Learn all new powers along the way and techniques even we don’t have. By the time she comes back, even you will think she’s ready.”

Azriel shot up, hands coming to slide down his face has he passed around the low table. You were gone? For potentially 7.5 months? This was wrong, so so wrong. You should be here, by his side where he can see to it that you get the training you need. The thought of someone else, potentially another male, training you… his skin felt hot to the touch.

“Rhys! I don’t- what do you mean?” He stopped pacing in front of his brother, he wanted to scream, tear him a new one but he felt too manic to focus on that now. “So she’s just gone? For months?! I don’t- how could you do this!”

Rhys poured Az another glass as he spoke, “What was I supposed to do Az? You were safe guarding her to the point it was damn near suffocating. She just wanted to do something, to feel like her time was productive-“

“It was productive!” Az cut in, “She was with me! I was training her! Sending her away like that- what if someone finds about her powers? Do you know what other courts would do to get their hands on her?!”

“Yes Az,” Rhys spoke in a tried tone, being able to tell this conversation wasn’t going to cool down anytime soon. “She knows, she’s safe guarding her powers. She won’t use them in training, just learning other courts techniques and studying their powers to bring back here and implement.”

Az scoffed and shook his head, resuming his pacing. He wasn’t convinced, there was worry and anger, and longing taking up all the space for rationality. “She just wanted to get out there, you know she’s never left Velaris?”

Az’s eyes flew to Rhys’ at the question. “Of course I know,” he bit out. He knew everything about you, everything you were willing to offer him. Late nights spent in your room- at a respectful distance- gave way to room for life stories. You indulged in your early life, family, friends, love history, hobbies, likes and dislikes. He kept it all stored away in meticulous detail, committing everything you’ve ever said to him in perfect memory. You vulnerability inspired him, encouraged him to do the same and bare his soul to you. He told you everything, except for one, or maybe two things. He was safe guarding the bond, not wanting it to influence your decision. He wanted you to choose him because you wanted to choose him, not because you thought you had too.

Rhys hummed, nodding. “Well, she wasn’t going to stop until I gave her something. She’s safe and she’s happy and she’ll be back in no time.”

Azriel rolled his eyes at his brothers hypocrisy, he would be beside himself if Feyre left for that long. He moved toward the door with determination, he was going to find you. He needed to tell you that he was sorry, you didn’t have to run or sneak behind his back. He would tell you what he knew was true and promise not to hold you back anymore. “No you won’t,” Rhys cleaved through his thoughts. “One visitation permit was issued from the courts, Im sure they wouldn’t appreciate my spy sleuthing around. Not to mention how she’d feel about it.”

Az growled at that, cutting his brother a loathsome glare before slamming the doors once again behind him. Rhys just sighed, leaning back and polishing off the drink Az didn’t finish.

-

No time, that was bullshit. The months passed like years and Azriel swears he could’ve lived multiple lives in the time you were gone. He wasn’t himself, out of step, out of sync. It was kinda crazy, he lived so long without you and after just a few hours of knowing you were gone he reverted to a shell of himself.

Some days he barely tried to train, moving through the sessions like a phantom. Other days he laid his hurt bare, taking it out on Cassian until his brother had to tell him ‘no more.’

Work wasn’t able to distract him, he had been on one mission since your departure. Rhys refused to let him go, claiming he was too frazzled to focused. Despite knowing its truth Az tried to disagree, he ended up losing train of thought half way through the conversation, proving Rhys’ point.

You had sent letters, 3 came at least twice a month. One to Rhys, giving updates on where she was and how training was going. One to Nesta, the two had grown close in her time training with the inner circle. One to Azriel, it was similar to Rhys’, she was giving life updates and telling him wonderful stories. Azriel wanted to answer, truly, but the longer he thought the more he realized he had nothing to say. You were having so much fun, meeting wonderful people, exploring new powers, and seeing Pyrthian like you always wanted. He was ashamed by the fact that if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have gone. He sat down to write how sorry he was, how excited for you he was, how he wished he could see it all with you but his letters only made it as far as the fire. He was convinced you were angry with him, that’s why you left while he was gone. He read and reread every letter so much they were a crumpled mess in his hands, some terrible part of him convinced him they were pity letters. His fears were “confirmed” when his letters stopped halfway through the third month.

He was a bit surprised when around the middle of the fourth month he felt talons tapping on his mental shield, far more polite that Rhys has ever been. He opened his shield just enough to let you in, not far enough for anything other than communication.

Hi Azriel, your voice rang through him like a church bell. He shivered at the pleasant invasion, unwittingly letting the rest of his walls down from you. His subconscious wanted you everywhere, invading every part of him, committing all of him to memory.

Hello, Y/n. He hated how timid his voice sounded. But he couldn’t help it, talking to you made him nervous, especially after ghosting your letters.

He heard you sigh into his mind and he couldn’t help himself but duplicate the sound. Hearing your voice, feeling your essence, provided much needed relief.

I’ve missed you, he spoke in his mind. The words came out as a soft whisper, tentative and unsure.

Yea? I could tell by the way you ignored all my letters. He cringed at your words, your tone was joking but he didn’t miss the thinly veiled frustration. He was silent; not sure how to respond or if he even could. His remorse flooded his head and you surely caught on, based on the way you quickly spoke again. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have-

No, he cut you off. You’re right, I should’ve responded. I just wasn’t- I didn’t know what to say. I was- I still am ashamed.

It was your turn to be silent. If he stilled his mind he swears he could feel you nodding. Your questioning voice came through, You think I shouldn’t have gone?

I thought that. But I’ve read your letters, the ones to me and the ones Rhys gave me access too. Your progress is… you couldn’t have achieved what you are now if I kept you hidden.

You were silent, Azriel could feel the contemplation. After a couple beats you spoke again. I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize, ever.

You waited before speaking again, But I am sorry. It felt wrong leaving the way I did, like I was sneaking behind your back. I didn’t even get to tell you goodbye.

Azriel chuckled lightly out loud. It’s a good thing though, I probably wouldn’t have let you go.

Oh yeah? You laugh. What would you have done? Restrain me? Your voice held a playful edge that excited something in Azriel. The lower end of his stomach began to twist and he had to control himself with you still in his mind.

It was his shadows that spoke next, let her see. Their encouragement drew back the curtain of self control and he opened his mind deeper for you. He let you into the fantasies of restraining you with his shadows. Covering your vision with wisps of darkness, blurring your senses to ensure touch was heightened.

He showed you how he would be slow, take his time with you. How he would push your body to absolute extremities, take you to your peak over and over before cradling your exhausted body. You were silent as you witnessed his eagerness, his willingness to give you all the pleasure your body could handle. He heard you let loose a breath, If I knew that’s what you’d do to me I would’ve left a lot sooner.

A dry chuckle left Az’s lips, Then perhaps your punishment should be to withhold such treatment. His smirk was evident in his voice, and you gasped out a laugh at the mention of what had become an inside joke.

You’re a tease! You shrieked down the mental bond and Azriel laughed freely.

Az stayed connected with you late into the night, speaking of pretty much anything under the sun, or in this case the moon. He talked until your voice slowed down and became soft hums of acknowledgment. Eventually your presence in his mind was peaceful, calm; the proof of your sleep

-

3 weeks.

10 days.

4 hours.

15 minutes.

The time that had dragged its feet through sand was now moving at a lively pace. It was by no means quick, you had still taken your time coming back. But with daily mental communication, daily mental flirtation, having only minutes between the two of you Azriel felt his skin buzz. His wings moved on their own, display his anticipation for the world.

Az had woken up early… earlier than usual. The sun was teasing the horizon, threatening to spill its light across the mostly sleeping city. Azriel couldn’t help the coy smile as he greeted the morning happily. Little tasks had kept his body busy as his brain counted down the minutes of your arrival. Shower, train, shower again, morning flight, cleaning, bureaucratic busy work, trip to the shops, following Cassian around for a couple hours. Azriel couldn’t sit down, if he did his leg would bounce and he would be up again in seconds.

But here he was, smoothing the already smooth leathers as he waited “casually” in the greeting room of the river house. He had cleaned up your room in the HoW when you left but he took to dusting it, changing your sheets, and adding fresh and fragrant flowers to liven up the space.

5 minutes, his shadows whispered as they danced around his ears. They reflected their masters eagerness, also unable to sit still and be patient.

You hadn’t connected with him today, most likely too busy getting your affairs in order. Azriel didn’t mind though, it added to his anticipation. For the first time in what could be ever he felt like a kid, bouncing around the room with an insatiable excitement brewing below.

Azriel rubbed his rough hands together and made eye contact with his shoes, a heavy breath left his lips and suddenly it felt stagnant. Everything stopped.

Seconds turned to hours as his head turned upwards. For a moment everything stoped, the world was lost to Azriel as he finally saw you. The sounds of the room became slow and muffled and the only sound was a soft song. A light airy melody, a beautiful blend of bells and chimes. A sweet sound made only by your presence.

The air finally left his mouth and the world returned to normal, time picked up and everything was moving again. The shadows that carried you in dissipated and the ground shook with the bellows of his family.

Cassian was first to reach you, spinning you around like a doll. He barely has time to put you down before Nesta latched on and mumbled something only you could hear. Feyre greeted you with a smile and open arms, Rhys extended a hand that you took firmly. Elaine and Amren gave welcome to your presence and suddenly it was Arziel’s turn. Even his shadows beat him to you, circling every inch- noting every tiny change within you, all the things that didn’t show though your voice in his mind every night. The lines created from muscle, the natural lightness added to your hair that only comes from saltwater and direct sunlight, the clear and unmistakable scent of raw power. Every little thing was reported back to him, the way each minuscule movement of yours was silent, the advanced lightness of each step that brought you closer, the disciplined posture you now carried. Then there was the perceptive glint in your eye, one that seemed to bore into his skin, one that traced every cell and tendon in his biology; tracking his synapses and learning his bones. One that tore apart his soul and memorized it.

“Azriel,” Your greeting was clean and simple; and it almost brought him to his knees. He steadied himself with a breath and clenched the fists that wanted to reach for you. Not yet. Not here.

“Welcome home Y/n,” all the courage that made a warrior was used as he held your eyes. You were still you, still the same female he devoted each waking thought to. But you now held an edge, a deadly aura that put even him off. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned.”

You smiled, all of your venom hidden behind perfect, pearly structures. “I can’t wait to show you.”

Your long awaited return was celebrated with dinner, drinks, and the promise of putting your skills to the test at first light. You celebrated and mingled, held your drink dutifully but didn’t take a single sip. Your months of watching your own back and the crippling paranoia that you would be made kept you from inebriation. Not to mention you wanted to be at your best when you displayed yourself. You casually turned in early, leaving the festivities to the ones who actually indulged. You took to setting your room up in a way only self preservation would justify. Weapons were hidden all around your space, a habit from being in enemy territory with no back up. You had to be ready for anything at any time, being caught off guard would be the difference between life and death. Once you felt confident in your new arrangements you climbed into bed, channeling Azriel’s shadows to watch you in your sleep.

-

I awoke before the sun, prepping myself in fighting leathers and a clean hairstyle. My go bag was packed and placed at the foot of the bed where it could be grabbed on the way out. It was full of all the weapons I had grown accustomed to using. Most of it was basic, knives, sabers, and folding spears. There were also more elaborate weapons unique to the courts I spent time in; light directors, specific for centralizing the power of light from the day court. Loch detonators, a device that turns powered water into intense explosives. The collection was impressive but most of it would prove to be useless today, I planned on taking the boys in hand-to-hand combat.

I pushed open the window of my room before climbing out. Scaling the monstrous house, I jumped and grabbed all the edges that would lead me to the roof. The roof was hipped into a long line, on that I ascend and landed at the apex. One foot balanced on the line while the other crossed over my bent knee. My hands stretched out on either side, keeping my center of gravity directly over the line.

The cold dusk air heightened every sense as I let loose. Thoughts escaped as my perfectly poised body found peace, my steady breath the only tether to the earth. With my mind clear and body at ease I was able to connect with every part of myself, honing every part of me for battle. After an hour of meditation I stood up and began to move. To any onlooker it would look like I’m dancing on the roof not partaking in an ancient practice of energetic redirection. I came across the art of Tai Chi in my time spent in the summer court, a friend I had made took me to her village on the southern edge and though it is a closed practice one of the elders agreed to teach the basics. I had also managed to find some scrolls on the subject in Helion’s vast library and continued my training. Now it was part of my daily exercise; balance my mind, body, and energy.

Nearly two hours and passed before I left the roof, opting to winnow in and grab my bag before making my way to the training ring. Cassian and Az were there, preparing for the day with calisthenics.

“Good morning angel,” Cassian greeted with the trademark smile that comes before saying something stupid. “Done dancing on the roof?”

I looked to your feet as a smile creeped onto my face, “Yea, ready to dance with you now.”

“Ohh, we’ll see about that,” Cassian’s face was smug but I kept smiling nonetheless. It made sense, he had no reason not to be. He’s perfectly unaware of what I’ve learned and what I’ve taught myself. Azriel on the other had looked calculating, like he was trying to note all the ways I’ve changed. His gaze was piercing, like he could figure out all I’ve learned just by looking at me. He knows all of my experiences, everywhere I was at any given time but my training was not something we had discussed in detail.

“What about you Azriel?” I tilted your head as I looked him up and down. Blatant and greedy, not even trying to hide my hunger. He had opted to train shirtless this morning, something whispered that it was a subtly attempt to distract me. “You ready to dance with me?”

Azriel smirked, stalking closer as he continued to tape his knuckles. “Hmph,” he matched my actions, eyes taking over the way your lean body contorted under my leathers. “I was born ready for you.”

I felt my body rise a hundred degrees and his words and gaze, I wanted to jump on him the same way I did in our shared visions. But I kept my composure, he was trying to rile me up. “I sure hope you mean that.” one finger made its way to his arm, tracing the tattoos there until it met the glove on his hand. I grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles in a light teasing fashion. His nostrils flared as I looked up at him through l lashes. “Because Id want nothing more than a go at you.”

He opened his mouth but was cut off by his brother, “Good morning! I hope you’re all ready because I know I am.” Rhys strolled over with Feyre, Amren, and Mor in tow. He rubbed his hands together in a gesture that showed excitement before shoving them in his pockets.

“I hope you’re ready for a show,” Cass spoke as he stretched one last time, “Y/n plans to dance.” I just smiled in response, Rhys raised a brow and his eyes shone. He was the one receiving daily briefings. I had connected with him and let him see some of my work through my eyes. Some. The rest I kept safeguarded, waiting until this moment to show them off. Since I were essentially stealing the powers I was exposed to I didn’t have anyone to train me in their use, normally that would put me at a disadvantage but Rhys changed my outlook on that. Since I hadn’t been taught how to use them I was never put in a box, never limited to what everyone else thought was possible. I could experiment with the powers I encountered, come up with my own ways to use them, and create different techniques than those normally seen. The magic belonged to others but when I used them, the powers were wholly mine.

“Okay Y/n, who do you want to dance with first? Cassian or Azriel?” Rhys asked, the knowingly look on his face was obvious. He knew what I would say, and I wasn’t in the mood to disappoint.

“Aww, I can’t have both?” I pouted lightly, turning from Rhys to the other parts of the trio, “I’ve always wanted to take on brothers.” The tease in my voice lit a double meaning behind the words. Cass snorted and Az just ducked his head and shook it side to side, even so I could still see the small smile on his lips.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Cass said clasping his hands, “I’m in the wish granting business sweetheart.” I just nodded simply as I pursed my lips, looking them up and down once more before grabbing my bag and heading to the far end of the ring. As I was wrapping my own knuckles Nesta came over with a water bottle meant for me.

“Thanks honey,” I smiled as I took the water. “Promise you won’t hate me if I bang your mate up a bit?”

Nesta laughed, “Hate you? Baby I’ll thank you. That male needs humbled.” We both chuckled at that statement as I finished with my hands. “What weapon are you going to use?” Nesta asked as I shuffled around my bag. I hummed before pulling out a small fan and sheath to keep it in. The fan looked like any other handheld fan except instead of fabric it was made of metal that weren’t fixed, meaning they could move if struck. “This,” I smiled, strapping the fan to the outside of my thigh.

“Just that?” Nesta questioned, I nodded in response. Honestly it was a lie, I had no plans to use the fan, at least not as a weapon. I pulled it for show, it would be decoy used to distract and throw off the boys. The fan wasn’t wholly useless though, I picked up different ways to turn it into a weapon when wielded skillfully. It would be too cocky to walk in there with absolutely nothing and as much as I wanted to, I knew Cass wouldn’t recover from the ego hit he would take if I acted like I knew I could beat him with my bare hands; even if that was the plan. She tilted her head before humming as well, “What exactly did you learn out there?”

I just smiled, “I can show you better than I can tell you.” I winking before turning away from her, facing the ring to show that I was ready. I heard a whoop sound come from my friend as she made her way over to join the rest of the peanut gallery.

Cassian had chosen twin broad swords, something that would look comical in the hands of a human looked normal with the giant fae. Az had nothing in his hands but there were multiple daggers lining his pants, still no shirt. I would make sure he regretted that.

“Alright,” Rhys said bringing attention to himself “no need for idle chatter or pointless speeches, begin!”

And with that I stepped completely into the ring, focus trained on the warriors in front of me as the rest of the world disappeared. I couldn’t stop the dangerous smirk that snuck onto my lips, “Let’s dance.”

A/n: don’t hate me!!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to update. I was waking up at 12 then working from 3-11 and crashing when I got home. I work on a crisis unit so that shit is madddd draining, emotionally and physically. I felt like I had nothing left to put into my writing :/ but I finally switched to 3rd shift and for nearly my entire shift I don’t have to do anything but be there so I can write at work and I have more of my day open to relax and recharge. I’m sorry I had to split this into 3 parts but this just got so long and if I would’ve kept writing it would’ve straight up been a book. But I promise part 3 will not take as long to come out. Maybe not this weekend but soon! Anyways if you made it this far I LOVE YOU, thank you so much for giving me and my stories your time :)

Masterlist

[aetherdoesthings]

a new job pt. 2

forethoughts: apologies for my long hiatus; writer's block has been draining me mentally. anyways, i started playing honkai star rail :D. no spoilers for penacony pls i wanna see this through 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

notes: fem!reader, reader working for arlecchino, arlecchino being sweet? idk

Your head throbbed as consciousness came back to you. Unlike the hard mattress you normally slept on and the nonexistent pillows, your head was supported by several, a large puffy blanket covering your body. You were even in different clothes than you remembered yourself to be in; a pair of silk pajamas buttoned up instead of the large worn out oversized shirt. The change of scenery instantly made all fatigue and drowsiness disappear, as you shot up, head spinning around, grasping at the scenery around you. You were inside a well furnished room, the windows on the side of the bed open, the Fontainian breeze entering your room. All your stuff from your flat above the shop was on the nearby desk. Your heart pounded heavily inside your chest, as you planted the balls of your feet on the soft surface underneath you, allowing yourself to explore your surroundings to a better degree. Somewhere far, you could hear the sound of children, their cheerful laughter reaching up to the room you were in. 

The doorknob twisted, stealing your attention as every nerve in your body went on high alert, your muscles tightening. The door opened, revealing a familiar figure, the sound of her heels muffled by the carpet as the woman walked towards you, those crimson eyes boring into your skull. 

“Ah. Y/N. You’re awake. Perfect.” The Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers stated with a monotone voice, her hand moving towards your face. A rush of heat shot to your cheeks as the Knave ran her darkened thumb over your lips, feeling the cracks and grooves of your chapped lips. You swore you saw her own thin lips purse ever so slightly at the touch, displeased by your physical condition. 

“W-Where am I?” You forced yourself to sputter out, in hopes of destroying the suffocating atmosphere around the two of you.

“Inside the House of Hearth. Since our last meeting, I took it upon myself to ensure you were properly settled into your job. All your belongings are on the desk.” Arlecchino said ever so matter-of-factly, as if she wasn’t fazed at all by the idea of breaking into your place while you were sleeping to move you into new territories without ever asking you if that was okay.

“If… that's alright with you. I understand for a normal human a sudden change like this is… daunting. However, this is to ensure the discreteness of the House’s location.” Arlecchino added, after noticing the shock and horror in your eyes.

You forced yourself to calm down, bottling up all your emotions now for a breakdown later as you faced the Harbinger. “I-It’s okay. I understand.”

“Excellent. I shall let you get dressed and ready for the day before giving you a tour of the House.” Arlecchino’s hand lingered on your cheek for a beat longer, her crimson eyes gazing into your dark pools. She removed her hand and departed before you could speak up, and thankfully you didn’t have to. 

Accepting your fate, you changed into the clothes inside the closet, as another sense of uneasiness bubbling in your stomach at how the clothes perfectly fit your body. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, reminding you that this was the reality you were in. Not some fantasy or dream world. Stepping outside your bedroom, you found the Knave standing idly by the door, those red crosses instantly landing on your figure the moment you opened the door. 

“You look wonderful in that.” Arlecchino mused, her lips curled upwards slightly as she beckoned for you to follow her. Looking back once to ensure you were behind her and not trying to escape, Arlecchino began her tour. You stayed by her side, listening to her explain the schematics of the House of Hearth and the history, though never delving into great details. She led you through the different halls and floors, until the two of you passed by the dining hall. 

“Are you hungry?” The Harbinger asked, no sign of malice in her voice as she looked at you.

“U-Uh..” Before you could think of a convoluted lie so the tour could move on and end sooner, your stomach answered for you.

Your stomach churned as you heard the Knave let out a chuckle, your heart thudding at the sound as Arlecchino smiled at you. “I suppose you are. Come. Allow me to fetch you some breakfast.”

No. Why were you feeling this? This feeling of… longing. Longing to hear that chuckle again. Longing to see those lips curl upwards and those eyes bore into yours, a hypnotizing gaze that told you everything would be alright. No. This was the Knave. Arlecchino was a Fatui Harbinger. She killed people. The blood on her hands was far greater than you’d ever known. 

But yet a part of you couldn’t help but keep thinking about Arlecchino possibly seeing you only in your undergarments and carrying you and tucking you in, a sense of joy and glee filling your heart. 

“What would you like?” Arlecchino brought you over to the breakfast bar, waving and greeting the children that occupied the hall.

“Do you have pancakes?”

“Pan..cakes?” Arlecchino looked at you, confusion written all over her face.

“I-I like pancakes.” You mumbled under your breath when you realized she didn’t have a clue about what you were talking about.

Arlecchino instantly shook her head, her gaze softening as she granted you a small smile, immediately making you feel better. “I will ensure that the kitchen will make these.. pancakes of yours for you. How about some fruit and yogurt as a substitute for today?”

“Sure.” 

“So, that concludes the tour.” Arlecchino cleared her throat, rummaging through the files on the cabinet behind her desk as she grabbed a piece of paper, placing it on the table in front of you. “Your employee contract. Sign it, and you will become a teacher at the House of Hearth.” Arlecchino listed several things that came along, as you sat on the plush chair reserved for the children that visited her offices. Every once in a while, she’d glance over at you, watching you eat your bowl of yogurt and fruits, your eyes following her figure pacing around. 

“Any questions?” Arlecchino turned her head towards you. Her gaze softened ever so slightly when she saw you with your knees to your chest, holding the empty bowl with both hands as you looked at her with those innocent round eyes, a smudge of yogurt on the corners of your lips.

“No.” You responded, shaking your head, setting the bowl aside. 

“Well then.” Arlecchino placed a pen next to the contract. 

Arlecchino watched you take a deep breath, picking up the pen and rereading the contents on the paper. She knew her methods of getting you here wasn’t the best, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel bad for taking you in your sleep and bringing you to the House without asking you. But then again, she stared at the paper, waiting for the pen to move, nails digging into her arm. Ever since that day at the flower shop, Arlecchino could not stop thinking about you. She wanted to have you close. Wanted to always see that innocent look on your face, oblivious to the world of danger she lived in. 

A sigh of relief nearly escaped Arlecchino’s throat as the pen moved across the surface, your signature on the line. She stifled it with a cough, taking the contract and gazed at the signature, as if trying to burn it into her brain. “Excellent. Take the rest of the day to adjust and get used to the surroundings. Is there… anything I can do for you?”

Arlecchino hoped you were going to say yes.

“...You don’t know what pancakes are?” You tilted your head.

Arlecchino blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You work at an orphanage. With children. B-But you don’t know what pancakes are. Kids like pancakes. Pancakes are good”

“Are you insinuating that you are a child, then, Y/N?” 

Your cheeks flushed, realizing the error in your sentence. Arlecchino let out a low chuckle, reaching her hand out to wipe away the stain around your mouth. “How about you show me… what this pancake is? So the children could enjoy something new, and you would be happily fed.”

[zer0pm]

Imagine being the one chained to Luis Serra instead of Leon and he’s flirting with you the entire time.

“So, uh, you come here often?”

If your back wasn’t to him, he’d be on the receiving end of a pointed look asking him if he was being serious right now. Instead, you opted to get up from the ground where you sat and assess the current situation. The cuffs around your wrists are attached to a heavy chain that seems to hang overhead and you follow the length of it with your eyes until they stopped to another set of metal cuffs clamped around the man that was speaking to you. He was already standing by the time you take account of his attention on you, his grey eyes slowly taking you in before a playful, lascivious smile curves upon his chiseled face.

“Gracias a Dios. Glad they stuck me with someone so attractive,” he says before dropping to a low bow. The gesture seemed awkward due to his bound hands but it did little to dampen the dramatic flair he exuded. “Luis Serra. Encantado.”

You immediately recognized him as the man in the sack that you and Leon found in a basement before being knocked unconscious by some giant of a man. This Luis was a talker then too despite his apparently ever changing and unfortunate predicaments. He must have quite a story to tell and perhaps can be of use to your mission.

Pinning the thought to question him after you have freed both of you of your shackles, you look up at the mount that kept the chain suspended and give the metal a firm tug. The action catches the Spaniard off guard as he is dragged towards you.

“Easy, my friend. If you wanted me to come closer, all you had to do was ask.”

No amount of willpower could stop your eyes from rolling.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Your words set off a spark in his eyes and you realize your mistake too late.

Luis smiles, “Ah, so you finally speak! Any more of the silent treatment and I was about to start serenading you with sign language.”

Thankfully your focus on your mission outweighed your curiosity at imagining this man dexterously using his hands and fingers to communicate with you, feeling the support for the mount give slightly. Another tug and this time Luis seemed prepared for it as he braced himself in place, the sound of the mount straining against the chain finally catching his attention.

“Ah, I see your thinking. Muy bien.”

With him finally coming up to speed on your intentions, the man met your strength with each pull upon the chain, the support nails keeping the mount up gradually weakening. Sweat was beginning to pour down your brow. Just a few more…

“May I have your name?”

The question made you stop in your efforts.

“What?”

“Your name. I’d like to know what to call you.” The damn smile widened as he spoke, evidently amused at your responses to him.

“What does it matter?” You tried to hide your increasing excitement with indifference, he didn’t seem at all put off by this.

Luis shrugs, “Given that I introduced myself to you in such gentlemanly fashion, I’d expect the same courtesy in turn. It’s only fair, sí?”

He made a point, but of course rather than answer him, you gathered the chain in your hands for one final pull and was grateful he had the sense to pull back. The mount and chain fall to the floor with a loud clank and Luis was on his back once again from using too much force.

“¡Mierda!” He groans and you couldn’t help the smirk creeping on your cheeks. “You’re very good at playing hard to get.”

You were about to offer him a snide apology as he moved to stand up once more but saw an infected coming towards him with an axe swinging. Quick to react, you drag Luis towards you and the unsuspecting Spaniard collapses to his knees before you. He looks up at you and you would have thought he’d be annoyed if not for the playful grin he continued to wear.

“This isn’t exactly my ideal place to be tossed around. I’d prefer somewhere much softer, but if you insist-“

“Shut up and brace!”

Using the chain, you make fast work of wrapping it around the infected man attacking you two and effectively snap his neck. Luis swiftly rushes over to the body as soon as it collapsed and searched through their pockets. He finds the key and unlocks his cuffs. You were about to take it from him to remove yours but he steps back and uses his long arms to keep it out of your reach.

“Give it here, Luis Serra.” Despite the obvious mirth in your voice, the man appeared pleased at the sound of his name on your tongue.

“Of course, my friend, but first,” he started, playing with the key between his fingers for you to see, “I have a proposition.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. “You being serious?”

“Mi luz, know that I’m always serious. Especially when it involves someone with a face like yours.”

You sincerely hoped that the heat burning on your cheeks was from the adrenaline of just killing an enemy and not at all from his charming words. Luis took your sigh of defeat as a sign to keep going.

“Obviously you’re not a local. But, lucky for you, I happen to know the area like the back of my hand.” He twists his hand, dangling the key into your view for emphasis. The scoff he earned from you made him laugh.

“We can help each other, keep each other safe. I watch your back,” his lecherous gaze makes a shameless journey over your form before stopping at your hips. You made a point not to turn or twist your body in any way. “You watch mine.”

Just as you were about to tell him off, he continued, “And who knows, perhaps we can reunite you with your agent friend and rescue a certain señorita?”

A thousand alarms went off in your head. Luis definitely knew more than he let on. It was always your intention to question him, but now you realize that you weren’t the one holding the cards between you two and the shit-eating grin he wore showed that he’s well aware of this fact. Countless curses flooded your mind at how ridiculous this situation is, but the rational part of you knew that this idea was the most logical course of action. You needed to find Leon (assuming he is still alive somewhere) and finish the mission. This is what you rationalized and not at all because Luis’ incessant attention was beginning to grow on you. After a long moment of contemplation, you sigh.

“Fine,” you acquiesced, making sure the displeasure in your tone was evident even though there was none in your heart. The smile he gave you radiated throughout his entire being and warmed you from the inside.

“¡Excelente! We are partners, then!”

Assuming that was the end of the exchange, you move over to grab the key from his hand. Once again, Luis pulls it out of your reach. This was getting frustrating.

“What now?”

The man deflects your sharp tone with a click of his tongue, a teasing glint in his grey eyes. You were about to start threatening him until you felt an unexpected tug around your wrists, your whole body tumbling forward until your hands forcefully made contact with his firm chest. The sight of his other hand gripping the middle of your cuff catches your attention.

When the hell did this man grab a hold of your shackles?

Instinct kicked in to hit him but before you could regain your composure to do so, you feel the warmth of long slender fingers against your skin. His thumb caressing gently against the exposed part of your arm below your wrist before wrapping around to keep you firmly in place. He finally brings the key down in the space between you two, inserting it in the lock but not twisting it.

You cast an impatient glare up at him and fell into the trap of his gaze. The way he looked at you suggested that he had been watching you the entire time he brought you to press against him and you noticed then that he no longer wore the chesire cat grin. His voice reaches your ears, low and husky.

“I still didn’t catch your name.”

.

.

.

A/N: hope you enjoyed that ;) spicy continuation can be found here.

[azrielsdove]

Requesting rhys x reader

reader has an eating disorder that rhys thought she was passed it. She tries to hide little things from him like wearing baggier clothes cause she’s losing weight. Once he has suspicions he starts making her meals but she just says she isn’t hungry or she already ate but he keeps pushing her to eat so she does. But he catches her in the bathroom throwing up after. He’s really angry at first but then just wants to help her stop so he peels food labels off everything, never leaves her alone, she can’t go to the bathroom by herself. He gets rid of scales and mirrors. Idk I’m just really feeling a super over protective /controlling rhys rn

Okay, this is not exactly what you asked for, but I really struggled to get too dark with it. I have definitely had this feeling before, and I couldn’t bring myself to write it as serious! I still wanted to do your request, knowing that sometimes it helps to see struggles like this in stories, and see them overcome it. I hope you still enjoy this, it is a little short but sweet I think. Please let me know!!

***

Beautiful Girl

Warnings: Negative body image

***

You looked over yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the dress fell on your body. It was tight, sheer, and sexy. You knew you looked good, having fought hard to get to this level of acceptance. You turned to the side, tracing your hands down the material. You were truly beautiful.

Cassian walked into the living room where you were still standing in front of the mirror. He whistled, the sound causing you to turn your head sharply. You smiled, spinning slowly for him. “Damn girl! You look hot.” You laughed, throwing your head back.

“Don’t let Rhys hear those sort of words come out of your mouth.” You chided, a smile on your lips. Cassian’s eyes looked affectionally over you, ever the flirt. His stare caught on the sheer paneling over your stomach, a teasing smile on his face.

“Guess I will need to up your training, get some abs on that body of yours!” He laughed, turning to sit on the couch to wait for the others.

You stilled.

You knew the words were a joke, hardly even anything negative. The small, terrible part of your mind suddenly started up, picking out all your imperfections as you looked on the mirror. You felt self conscious in this dress now, an embarrassment to Rhys. You had halfway decided to go change when he appeared in the room, walking over to you.

“My beautiful, perfect love. You look ravishing.” He sent a wicked smile your way, pressing a kiss to your lips. You couldn’t help but think about his hands on you waist, on how your body must feel under them. He noticed your hesitation, eyes catching yours. “You okay?” He asked quietly, worry filling his face. You forced a smile on your face and kissed him again.

“Never better.”

***

It had been a few days since Cassian made that comment and you were falling deeper into your mind. You would stand in front of the mirror before your baths, nitpicking every part of your body. You stopped wearing your normal tight revealing clothes, instead opting for loose and big. You even sized up in your fighting leather for training, allowing the looser form to hide your body.

Rhys noticed, of course.

He didn’t understand what had caused you to start to fall down this path again, when you had been doing so well. You hadn’t had any issues in years. He didn’t want to ask, knowing it would send you into a further spiral if he brought it up.

Instead, he took it upon himself to rid the house of anything that would hurt you. You woke up one morning to find all the mirrors were gone, Rhys acting like they had never existed. You found one of his shirts and a pair of loose trousers left out for you, slightly better than what you had been wearing. When you went to find Rhys in the kitchen, you found him with two plates of food for the both of you. He started making all your meals, showering you in compliments, leaving comfortable clothes out for you.

You finally broke at breakfast a few days later, overwhelmed with his actions. “Why have you been doing this?” You demanded, arms crossed in front of you. Rhys paused for a second, looking up at you.

“Doing what?” He asked, feigning innocence. You rolled your eyes and let out a long sigh.

“Rhysand,” you began, “the mirrors are gone. You’re making my meals, picking out my clothes. Why?”

There was a long pause.

“I noticed. How you were looking at yourself. Sizing up your clothing. I saw you in here sitting in front of a plate of barely anything, hardly touching it.” He stood, coming over to you. “This is not the first time i’ve seen this in you,” he spoke softly, “I know the signs.”

You remained silent, face flushed with embarrassment. He had caught you so easily, so quickly. “I- It just got bad again.” You whispered, looking down at the ground. Rhys cupped your face in his hands, bringing you back up to look at him.

“I know,” he said, “It isn’t always going to be easy. Lucky for you, I will be by your side to help you through.” He gave you a cocky smile, drawing a laugh from you. You leaned up and kissed him, love flowing through your body.

“Thank you, Rhys. For always protecting me, even from myself.” You noticed a faint blush on his neck at your words, smiling to yourself. Even after all these years, your words still affected him like that. He pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close.

“Can I ask what spurred this? To try to prevent it from happening again?” He asked, pulling away to look at your face. You debated not telling him, knowing Cassian would surely suffer. Unfortunately for him, you could never hide anything from the High Lord, your love.

“Cass made a comment the night we went to dinner, about ‘putting some abs on’. It wasn’t even an insult, just a joking tease about training. It hit me wrong I guess, sending my mind back into that dark hole.” Rhys’ eyes flashed with anger at your words, his arms holding onto you tighter. “He didn’t mean anything by it!” You assured, not wanting him to unleash his full wrath onto the General.

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Rhys said coolly, “but he needs to learn to be more careful with his words.”

***

You didn’t know what Rhys had said or done to Cassian, but the next day he was on his knees in front of you, dramatically begging your forgiveness and showering you in apologies. You laughed at him, pulling him up to his feet. “No hard feelings, Cass.” You assured, giving him a hug. “But maybe think before you speak next time.”

For the weeks after, Rhys continued to make your meals and lay out your clothes. His outfits slowly got tighter and more revealing, allowing you the time to sink back into your skin. He showered you with plenty of compliments in every one, making sure you smiled everyday. He assisted you in training, helping you get back to strengthening your body, not harming it. You began to feel confident again, even admiring yourself in the reflection of the window one night. Rhys had caught you standing there, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Beautiful girl,” he murmured, kissing your neck softly. You leaned into his touch and looked at the image of the two of you, the power and love you exuded.

You were strong, powerful, and beautiful. Rhys had only pushed you to see that truth once again. You were the one that allowed his love to push down the darkness, instead of letting it swallow you up like it had before.

***

[j2hoes]

A Twisted Romantic Fairytale (Wally Clark x Reader

Word Count: 3K

A tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers.

Warnings: Death

The homecoming game of 1983 was a tragic tale of two star crossed lovers perishing beside one another. It’s a story for the history books and one Split River High would remember in the years going forward. One that students remember as a devastating if not twisted romantic fairytale. Two young lovers bound together for eternity.

Homecoming Game - 1983.

Excitement runs rampant through the air as everybody floods into the stadium, eager chattering of students combined with the cheerful melodies of the marching band fill me with joy. It’s not as if I haven’t been here before, I’m no stranger to the blinding lights of Split River football stadium. In fact I’ve been cheering on the sidelines at every football game for the past four years or so, but tonight is different. I’m unsure of whether the electricity I can feel within the air has always been there and I have simply never noticed, or if it has something to do with the fact that this is my last homecoming game of my high school career. It’s the one night that counts. After all, it’s hard to miss the countless recruiters already situated within the stands.

“There you are! God, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Upon hearing the familiar voice, I can’t help but smile. Turning my attention away from the water fountain where I had previously been filling my water bottle, to see the dark haired jock that makes my heart race.

Wally Clark. Where do I even begin to describe this boy? 

I first met Wally on the second day of senior year. My family had just moved to Split River from Amber, Nevada, following my father’s transfer within the police department. Having accepted a promotion, despite the fact it meant we had to uproot our entire lives and move almost two thousand miles away.

It’s fair to say that I had been a complete mess, struggling to find my feet in a town that was the complete opposite to everything I had been used to. Not to mention the constant arguing between my parents caused by the stress of the move. Feeling so overwhelmed by my entire life changing so quickly, I couldn’t bring myself to attend first period and instead found myself tucked away in the bleachers, smoking a cigarette with shaky hands.

It was at that moment that Wally had found me, with a warm smile on his face, he comforted me. Welcomed me to the strange new town of Split River. Offered to sit with me in the cafeteria at lunch despite being a total stranger. However, something about the way things took place felt incredibly natural. As though this was the way things were meant to be.

Wally and I became inseparable from that moment forward, he encouraged me to join the cheerleading team. Insisting that it was only because he knew it was a passion of mine and not because it meant I would be forced to go to the football games that he just so happened to play. And how could I say no to that charming grin?

Throughout the years, we both learnt a lot about one another. He listened and supported me as I discussed my turbulent homelife, detailing how my parents seemed to be getting closer and closer to divorce by the day and how in turn I became practically invisible to them. I was there for him following every argument he had with his mother, reminding him that his sole purpose in life was not just football. Ensuring he knew that he had other talents and qualities that were just as good if not better than his football skills.

We weren’t best friends, we were each other’s rock through thick and thin. So when he kissed me on the field, following yet another win for the team, I felt like I was floating on air. Unearthing all of the feelings I harbored for the jock, even if I had spent all that time trying to bury them.

Wally’s heart is so pure and full of love. Being on the receiving end of that love to the fullest extent is the greatest joy I will ever be able to experience. To have someone be such a bright light in your life is truly a blessing.

So if I had to describe Wally Clark? I’d say he was an angel brought down from heaven just for me.

“Excited for the big game my love?” Wally asks as he finally reaches me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and placing a soft kiss on my temple.

“More nervous than excited. Kristine’s had us practicing a new move and with all the recruiters, I’m just scared I’m going to let the nerves get to me and mess up.” I admit, reaching my own hand up to hold his that remains over my shoulder as we begin to stroll through the crowds towards the locker rooms.

“You’re a superstar!” Wally exclaims, to which I’m unable to contain my laughter. “I mean it! You’re gonna smash it, honestly. I’ve never seen someone make cheerleading look as mesmerizing as you do. It’s borderline hypnotic, I’m telling you.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever you say.” I reply, tone sarcastic, yet his words of encouragement do make me feel ten times better. “Anyway, what about my favorite player? Are you feeling okay?”

I don’t miss the pained look that flashes briefly crosses his face before returning to his usual winning beam. I’m sure he’s just ready to get the game over with, wanting to return to some sense of normality and let loose at the dance. No longer having to deal with the overwhelming amount of pressure that his mom places on him to be the best.

“I guess I’m a little worried. My knee has been playing up for the past few days and coach said I needed to rest it, which is what I’ve been trying to do. I don’t know, I just don’t want to let anyone down, especially not my mom. Or you.”

As Wally finishes speaking we reach the doors of the locker room and I remove myself from his embrace to stand in front of him. Taking his hands gently in mine as I gaze up at the sweet boy. Noticing the slight gleam of worry and shame hidden deep within his coffee brown eyes.

“Whatever happens out there, you won’t be letting anyone down, I promise.” My voice is soft as I speak to him, wanting him to truly understand how little his performance matters. “Your mom may be disappointed but she’ll get over it. As long as you’re happy, healthy and alive, that’s the most important thing. Just don’t push yourself too hard, I know how important it is to you that you make your mom proud but she’ll be proud of you no matter what. I mean, how could she not be? You’re amazing Wally Clark.”

The footballer smiles, wrapping his arms around me before pulling me into his body tightly. Resting my head against his chest, I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to relax in his embrace and breathing in deeply to take in the deep oaky scent that is Wally. He rests his head atop of mine and I can feel him squeeze me gently, hands scrunching up the fabric of my t-shirt as he does so.

“Wally Clark, better get yourself in that locker room right now! It’s almost showtime!” I hear the coach yell and my boyfriend sighs, slowly releasing me from his tight hold.

“Now go show everybody just how amazing you are.” I whisper, lovingly gazing up at him.

He nods as though in confirmation with my previous statement, before taking my face in his hands and slowly leaning down to interlock his lips with mine. Delicately and with the remaining hint of nerves racing through his body, his lips move gently with mine. My cheeks feel burning hot compared to the brisk coldness of his hands, caused by the icy fall winds, though I don’t seem to mind. Embracing the sweetness of Wally’s mouth and the tenderness of every move he makes.

It’s with much reluctance that we pull away from one another, however, after catching a glimpse of the coach’s disapproving look, I know the moment is over. Sending the jock to get himself ready with a swift peck to the cheek, him offering me a cheeky wink in return as we both slink off to our respective locker rooms.

The next time I see Wally is when the team makes their grand entrance onto the field. A big cheesy grin rests on my face as I hear the crowds' screams of support, waving flags and homemade banners to cheer on the team. With a few cheers of my own, a couple of the girls and I begin to hype up the crowd even more, jumping wildly and encouraging their yells.

As I shoot a quick glance over to the field, I’m able to spot my boyfriend easily, even with his helmet on. Smiling brightly at me even as he runs towards his team to discuss their play. My heart flutters knowing that he still makes an effort to look for me even as the game is about to begin.

“Alright girls, you know what to do!” Kristina shouts, alerting us to take up our positions and prepare for the first routine of the night.

Noticing the game is about to commence, I feel myself worrying less about messing up the performance, focusing solely on Wally and his uplifting words from moments earlier. Sharing gleeful smiles with my fellow cheerleaders, I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement as the music roars through the stadium.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur, with the Split River football team taking an early victory and our routine flowing perfectly without a single fault or mistake. It’s almost too good to be true.

With our final move only seconds away, I feel the nerves return once more as I boost myself into the hands of the other girls. Their hands wrapped around my ankles and calves to ensure my safety and support whilst in the air. It’s only when I’m hoisted into the air that my stomach twists. Something doesn’t feel right but I’m unable to do anything. Everything happens in slow motion and as I catch sight of the ground looming towards me, I’m hit instantly by the fact that I’m not going to make my mark. I’m not going to land firmly in the hands of the girls beneath me.

I suppose the one good thing about all of this is that I only have a split second to panic before my body plummets to the hard asphalt below my feet. The thump my body makes as it slams against the ground is enough to make anybody squeal.

Cheerleaders scream. Music cuts off.

Then I simply feel nothing.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wally’s the first to notice the chaos unfolding at the side of the field. Distracted by whatever seems to be taking place, he doesn’t notice the opposing team's player bolting towards him. He lands with a grunt, knee buckling and sending a sharp shooting pain through the length of his leg.

As he rises to his feet, he hears the whistle blowing repeatedly, noticing the chaos begin to grow larger. With furrowed brows he finds himself jogging towards the crowd, even if it does cause him a significant amount of pain that he tries desperately to hide.

Pushing through the screaming group of footballers and cheerleaders, it’s at that moment that he sees her. Lay unmoving against the concrete, his heart stops momentarily. Feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of his beautiful girl lifeless, body contorted in ways he didn’t know physically possible. 

Wally drops to his knees, students stepping away from him as he does so. Not knowing how to comfort the poor boy in this time of need. The physical pain he is feeling in his leg is nothing compared to the emotional turmoil he is going through right now. Dragging her body on to his knees and cradling her delicately, in fear of breaking her anymore.

With clouded vision, he stares down at his love, body releasing wails and sobs he had never once made in his life. Blood stains his hands, his jersey, his trousers and yet he doesn’t care. Overwhelmed by his grief, watching the color drain from her skin. He doesn’t think anything could be more painful, nothing in his life could compare to the trauma of his girlfriend sprawled out in his arms.

Wally struggles with the ambulance crew as they begin to remove her body, his coach restraining him as they place her in the back of an ambulance. The jock barely acknowledges his coach telling him that he’s been benched as he watches with heartbreak as the ambulance drives away and in his distress all he can do is cry on the sidelines.

With his mom standing behind him, badgering him about winning a scholarship and needing him in the game, Wally feels nothing but rage. All his life, he’d done right by his mom, wanting her to be proud of him, wanting her to acknowledge his successes but right now, he wanted nothing more than to tell her to close her mouth.

Instead, he finds himself marching over to the coach, begging to be put back into the game, arguing that he needs something to take his mind off what he just witnessed and that he is in fact in the correct headspace to win. And somehow, his efforts pay off much to his surprise. Back in the game, Wally has more strength than ever. Fuelled by his rage and his grief.

Whilst he finds it distasteful and disrespectful that the game continues despite his sweet girl losing her life only moments before, he plays with the knowledge that she’d want him to win. She would want him to succeed and so he tries. He tries for her because if not for her, then he has no other reason to keep going. She was the one good thing in his life that kept him from going off the deep and without her, he doesn’t know how he will continue. So for now, he simply focuses on the game.

The sharp pain in his knee grows stronger and with every passing minute he struggles more and more. Trying desperately to ignore it, he claims the ball, running at full speed towards the touchline and yet as he runs directly towards an opposing player, he makes no effort to slow down. Not thinking about the potential consequences of his actions.

He hits the ground with a devastating blow. World shrouded in darkness almost immediately. However, he feels more at peace than he ever has.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I watch with bated breath as Wally tumbles aggressively to the floor, the crack ripples throughout the stadium and I can’t help but gasp. Throwing my hands across my mouth as I fixate on the footballers rushing to his aid. My mind races at one million thoughts per minute, why did he go back out onto the field? Why didn’t he move out of the way? How could he be so reckless?

I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I almost miss the tall jock standing watching over his own body as people hopelessly attempt to resuscitate his cold body. Before I can even react, I’m slowly walking towards him, even with his back towards me I can tell he’s in pain. Hands in his hair, tugging slightly as he comes to the realization of what has happened.

My hands are shaking the closer I get, breath caught in my throat as I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m not entirely sure why I’m scared, perhaps simply afraid of what this means for us now?

“Wally.” My voice is small, timid. Hands clasped together over my chest as I anxiously await his reaction.

As though he doesn’t believe it, Wally’s body goes stiff. When he finally faces me, his mouth falls open in shock, eyes holding the same softness that they did in life and I smile hesitantly. He’s the first to break the tension, scooping me up in his arms and holding me tighter than he ever has before.

“I’m sorry Wally, I’m so sorry, I promise I didn’t mean for this to happen.” My voice breaks as I speak, tears staining my cheeks. “I should’ve tried harder and then this would never have happened. You’d still be alive. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Darling it’s okay. We’re together now, yeah?” Wally states, placing his arms on my shoulders as he fully takes me in, holding me at arm’s length as if he’s checking I’m okay. Not that it really matters now.

“What were you thinking? Going back out was so stupid and irresponsible and reck-”

“I didn’t want to let you down.” Wally whispers, eyes falling to his feet in shame. “I wanted to make it all worth it, I wanted you to be proud of me because I knew you’d be looking down on me.”

“Wally, I-”

“I don’t think I could live without you sweetheart. I don’t think I’d want to.” He admits, bringing one hand to my face, thumb stroking my cheek softly. “Seeing you there, all limp and lifeless, I didn’t just lose you. I lost something within myself too.”

“I’m so sorry.” I sob, allowing myself to release all the emotions built up inside of me.

“I still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.” Wally confesses, smiling adoringly at me. “I still do.”

A quiet giggle escapes my mouth, pulling the tall boy towards me and pressing my lips roughly to his. Wanting, no, needing to feel him against me. To feel the way his mouth dances with mine and the way his hands tenderly caress my waist. I just need him.

“So where do we go from here?” The jock questions, our foreheads restings against one another as we catch our breath

“I don’t know, but as long as you’re with me, I don’t really care.”

[lacedinweb22]

Vampire Next Door ♱✮♱ Miguel O'Hara x reader Miguel's POV Chapter 3: and I remember her... ˚○◦˚.

ch. 1 ch. 2

Your neighbor is strange, to say the least. Miguel O’Hara: Alchemax’s newest scientist, genius, most sought-after bachelor … and according to your wildest suspicions … a vampire?

── ⋆⋅⟡⋅⋆ ──

She looks just like I remember her. 

Plump rosy lips, that same flush of color in her cheeks, soft hair that falls perfectly into place, and a beautiful, contagious smile, one I’d let myself be infected by, that is, if I wasn’t thinking of the one million things I had to do, the people I had to protect, and that piece of shit tied up in my bathroom.

When she talks, when I stare hard enough, I can find little changes in her: the way she carries herself, the way she looks up at me, the slight change in the colors she wears, but still, even through that, I see her, and I remember her… and the thoughts from then rush back.

But I’ve changed … a lot in the past two years. A lot. So I wasn’t too surprised when she didn't remember me. There were three hundred people in that hall, and I was just one of many TAs. I do remember making eye contact with her more than I could count. I thought she’d notice, thought maybe she’d feel it,

but guess she didn’t.

Anyways, can’t be too involved with new girl. I acknowledged the odds that she round up across the hall from me, but also acknowledged the risks. I can only keep work so far away from home. Shit follows me. 

She let me walk through her apartment. It’s empty, but just from the one box I carried, I can tell she’s going to make it her own. 

Boots. She had her own style then and she has her own style now, and I know her place will reflect that when she’s done with it. I wonder if she’ll invite me over at some point, when she’s done decorating and settling in. 

Now, I stand in her empty bathroom, watching her unpack. Today’s my off day, so I figure I’ll bother her a bit, jog her memory. 

The walls are thin, I know that now. 

The fucker thumps against my wall, forcing my visit at her place to be cut short. I rush to my front door, he whines through the red webs I shut him up with. I flash her a smile, “Ha yeah, gotta help the little guy, I’ll- uh I’ll catch you later,” I say, blocking her from seeing the inside of my apartment. 

I know I seem like an asshole, and the shitty side of me, the Spider-Man side of me, wants her to perceive me that way. I can’t afford to get close to anyone again. Not after what happened.

I slam the door shut. 

I storm over to the bathroom. The anomaly I’ve caught, who I still need answers from, sits tied up in the bathtub. He glitches in the red stringy mess he’s tied up in.

I would have brought him to HQ, but Jess would want to help, probably scold me, and I had to deal with this one on my own. 

“Maldito idiota, I told you, I’m not letting you go, and I’m not letting you die until you tell me who fucking sent your ass! How did you find me in this universe?!” I kick him as he lays sideways on the tile floor.

He rolls his eyes.

“Coño, I didn’t want to have to drag you across my freshly mopped floor, but you’re disturbing the neighbors.”

Dragging him to the kitchen, I question him a bit more, rip off the webs on his mouth, and when he smart-talks, I shut him back up and relent. 

Letting out a self-pitying groan, I tap my watch. The portal opens and I drag him back to HQ. 

My suit activates upon arrival. Jess looks me up and down from the platform.

“I hope I’m wrong about where you just came from, Miguel,” she mutters, looking down at her watch.

“Shut up, leave me alone … Peter Parkedcar, anomaly control. Pick-up in my office, please,” I speak into my watch.

I leave the anomaly glitching on the floor, and shoot web to pull myself up to the platform. 

“What did I tell you about bringing work home, Miguel?”

I storm by her, ignoring her scolding, heading straight to the hologram screens. 

“Yo sé, yo sé,” I mutter, swiping across the screen.

“Hmm, your hair looks nice. It’s … different.”

“Different?” 

“You don’t usually have your hair that way, is what I’m saying. What’s the occasion?” 

How can she tell? 

“Are you seeing someone?” she asks, standing behind me, reaching her hand beside me to help organize my tabs.

“No, why would I– no,”

“Miguel … I’ll get it out of you eventually, so might as well tell me now before you start letting it affect your work, act weird, and end up making a mess of yourself … a mess that I’ll have to clean up … not that I’m complaining I just–”

“There’s a new girl, someone I knew back at NYU … and now she lives across the hall from me. I don’t want her to get in the way.” 

“Get in the way of what? Stop bringing work home and she won’t be in ‘the way.’ Easy,” she shrugs. 

I exhale. It was … recent. Time won’t fly. The pain in my chest deepens, I remember it all for a second. I feel her eyes looking up at me. She knows. 

I look down at the hand she’s now rested on my forearm. She looks up at me, brows knit together, her worry visible even through her goggles.

“You can let it go, Miguel. You can have a life outside of … this.”

“This is my life. This is my responsibility.” 

“No. There are hundreds of us, Miguel. It’s all of ours. You know … if I could find love, create life, and still be here kicking ass and being a good friend to you, then so can you. You can live again,”

I sigh, head hung low. It takes a lot to admit to myself, how exhausted I am … from everything. I haven’t breathed in months.

“Let yourself live again.”

I breathe back the tears welling up. 

“Yo sé,” I manage to mutter.

“Invite her out, Miguel, put yourself out there,” she encourages, patting my back then jumping off the platform.

“How’s … Baby doing?” I ask, turning around to watch her leave.

“Baby’s healthy and happy,” she calls out, rubbing her belly.

“Gracias a Dios.”

“Miguel, do yourself a favor… be more like Baby,” she mutters walking out.

I let myself chuckle then look back at the screen. 

My fingers subconsciously open that file. I feel myself smile, watching my past self be happy, full of life.

Let yourself live again.

Maybe I’ll try.

○◦˚.˚◦○˚

ch.4 here >:D

my lovely taglist: @wingedturtledream @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @waiif-uwu @punpuun @thbidkbutok @acehyacinth @thetoetickler @kaqua @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @inafantasyworld10 @d1lf-loverrr @altheadq @thesilenthill @trash-king18 @imnotyourbcbe @tiffanypooh @ihateuguys @littlemissilovecoconuts @royal-jester @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @tbh2idk @gilliantate23 @envyjmoney @qiaipia @ur-fav-ginger @lacook246 @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @blair6th @missing2socks @thel0velykey190 @ladymoztaza @ta3bae @dhollandhs @qiaipia @deputy-videogamer @kinkybandages @murnsondock @obi-mom-kenobi @rjasmin2021 @syarblu @smokers-sweetheart @cheezit-luv3rr @tayleighuh @sukioyakio @maripositanoctruna @coffeeislifeyes @lilmissyrainbowstar 

[auraworkshop]

MY STORY OF SUCCESSFULY CONQUERING THE VOID STATE

Trigger warning: Sexual abuse, trauma etc.

I was raised in a loving and nurturing household. My childhood was hunky-dory and I remember myself as a bright and happy child, frolicking around in a carefree environment. I was pampered by a set of very loving and supportive parents. Alas, my protected bubble shattered, when at the age of 11, I went through sexual abuse and my life changed. The incident led to repressed anxiety, depression, and lingering PTSD for almost a decade.

I was sexually abused at the age of 11

Considering I was just 11-years-old when the heinous incident took place, I was too young to register the gravity or impact of such a crime. Revisiting the incident is still very painful. It happened about nine years ago, at an outstation wedding. I was sleeping alone in a hotel room, when the abuser entered my room and forced himself upon me. I remember distinctly how dark the room was. I was in a deep slumber and didn't realize that someone other than me was in the room as well. I wasn't able to respond or react, as I couldn't escape or stop the person. I was left in pain.

While I did inform my parents immediately, for some reason, the abuse and its record got shushed. My parents didn't want it to be made public or for it to harm my image in the society. Their response towards my trauma festered as a scar in the coming years.Living with depression, anxiety and PTSD As much as I tried to move on from that horrendous night, it kept coming back to me.

Unfortunately, I was too young to repair the damage. I began to feel lethargic and fatigued all the time. Something as small as brushing my teeth became a laborious task. I withdrew from merrymaking, public engagements, and activities that I had found joy in earlier. I failed to find any joy in life anymore.

I made many attempts. I think they started as a result of feeling unhappy with myself. All the failed attempts were a call for help and desperation. I felt helpless and alone and I couldn't dare to face the demon. I began to get triggered by even the mere mention of weddings. I think, my parents untimely and apathetic response to my suffering was the nail in the coffin-I lost trust in anybody whom I considered close. The replaying of the incident, over and over again, left my conscious and spirit bruised and broken. I became quiet and reclusive. This was when my life slowly started to change, as I found out about law of assumption and then the void state. After knowing that I can change my life completely through the void I tried every single night till yesterday to enter the void state at any cost. I was so desperate to get in. I slapped myself every night to enter otherwise my life would never change and I'll also be miserable. I did everything that can be done but still I saw no progress. I slowly started to get super jealous of other people's success stories. Everytime I saw a new void success story here on Tumblr, I would cry so hard and isolate myself. Yeah :) I was so Harsh on myself.

But, Then I found out about you and your subliminals and then about your paid custom subliminal and how magically they work, and yeah I was a bit hesitant to pay you for the subliminal as I got scammed by people so many times but all those success people got from using your subliminal boosted my motivation and trust in you! and see, my money was worth it!!

I listened to that sub on loop for 3 hours for 4 days continuously and the night of the 4th day I ended up in the void. It was instant and so effortless, it all happened so effortlessly. I never thought I would enter like this after beating, slapping, and isolating myself to enter.

Thankyou for helping me, thankyou for the hardwork you put in your subliminals, thankyou for your sweet and motivating words ♡

Bye to Tumblr, all my fav bloggers, anons and Aura.

Signing off...

Wow! You did a great job my girl, Your success story is truly a GEM.

Sorry for everything you went through, I LOVE YOU <3

And Thankyou so much for taking your time and writing this beautiful success story to all of us 🤍

[up-in-flames-writing]

I feel like we never talk about how hard it is to be a trans immigrant. We never talk about how escaping from a country that persecutes you does not free you from suffering & bigotry.

I may not be able to attend my own graduation ceremony. I worked so hard these past three years to achieve something, to be the first person in my immediate family to finish uni, get a degree, & then be able to actually do something with it, to pick my own life course & not stray from it. I reinvented myself during these last three years so much, from the shy, dysphoric kid with no friends to a man who maybe isn't doing the best in life, but who has a hope for the future. I worked hard to present myself in the best way I could, & yet I won't be able to see the fruits of my labours.

And, sure, the reason is real silly. I can't legally change my name, so the name on the degree will be my dead one, & the Vice Chancellor will read out the corpse of my old self in front of all my teachers & peers, everyone who knew me as Booker, & Booker alone. And they will expect to see a young lady in a dress climb the stage, only to be met with a boy who isn't quite a man yet, who is still forced to live under a girl's name.

And why? Why! Because I am an immigrant who feared for my young life when Brexit was happening, who has been teased & bullied for being an ESL student, who never quite belonged. Because I am an immigrant transman who could be imprisoned in my country of birth for the crime of wanting to reinvent myself, who has to walk on eggshells around the man who reared me because he grew up Polish & catholic & who knows how he would react if I told him I was his grandson & not his granddaughter. I am an immigrant who has to hide behind their parents because who knows how my extended family will react to me, who is still not allowed to tell his cousin, his little sister whom he adores, his real name despite the fact I was her age when I started questioning my own gender & I somehow wasn't too young to be in pain!

I am an immigrant who cannot safely return home, but the country that took me in isn't quite the safe haven either. Because I need a passport to prove that my name has changed, but a passport cannot be issued to me under a name my birth country does not approve of. Because to change myself fully, I need to become a citizen to a country that abandoned my homeland after the war & looked away when it was being subjugated during it. Because I need to know how many of the swans in London belong to the Crown for the state to consider me a citizen of this dying empire, despite the fact I've lived here for so long, I can't remember what my childhood home back in Poland even looked like! I cannot truly remember what my room in that flat in a small, backwater Polish town looked like anymore, except for the bed that we now have in our guest bedroom, & the bookshelf that cradles all of my books on transness & queerness & feminism.

Because I am an immigrant from a country who hates me, I am forced to live in a country that hardly tolerates me, & to live as my true self I have to subjugate myself for the sake of an old empire that lost its touch. I have to submit myself to a personal sort of colonisation, to be able to walk onto that stage at graduation with my real name on the degree. But I can't do that, because I don't have the money, because I spent the last three years breaking my back proving to people that the little girl with behavioural problems who was always bullied, was able to become something greater than the sum of her parts. Because I now don't have the time or the patience to tell you exactly when the Union Jack was created, or at what hour of the day is tea time, & I don't have the time to wait for a passport to be sent to me, only for me to return it to sender with a plea of changing my name upon it.

Because my transmacs friends in college had their names changed at sixteen, while I'm already done with my undergrad & still have to contend with the question of what citizenship I would rather have. Because I will sooner be on hormones & growing a beard than I will be able to change my name.

And in all this I find it so ironic that I was named after an angel, & like everything else in my life, I reject the goodness & the easy way out, I reject the things that once made me, me, to become my own god & rebuild myself out of the scraps left behind by a life of turmoil.

And still I am just some immigrant bitch stealing jobs from good, hardworking Britons, & I'm still just a transsexual fag taking women's rights away, & I'm still just some freak of nature manipulating the kids into sin & immorality. And no matter where I go, where I turn to, I don't feel all that angelic at all.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

An Unfair Loss

Summary: Thomas realizes that his results were switched with yours, and you had developed the curse Ruby had.

-Based off season 6 finale.

-Kinda proofread, kinda didn't. I feel like this was kinda rushed but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mention of suicide

Gun to his temple, he cocked it, ready to fire until he heard an all too familiar voice, his little Ruby.

Looking out into the field of green, he saw his baby girl running toward him with her small legs. He met her halfway pulling her into his warm embrace.

“Did Aunt Polly send you? Oh it feels so wonderful to have you in my arms one last time.” Tommy was panting, and the little girl held him tight so he knew she was really there before she spoke.

“You’re not even sick daddy.”

“But I am my darling. I’m closer to death as we speak.” The child shook her head vigorously, looking in the distance before turning back to her dad.

“No daddy not true, you’ve got to live, for Y/N.” Thomas’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not understanding what she was trying to say.

“What do you mean? Her exams came back clean Ruby. What do you-“ She guided her arm to the side, her hand pointing over at the fire. Thomas followed her gaze.

“It’s in the papers daddy. I’ve got to go.” She hugged her father once more, before vanishing in the distance in the field of grass and scattered flowers. Tommy watched, wishing that he had been faster, and had been a better dad in not putting business first but his family first. He wasn’t sure that he was doing that now, since he rushed off not telling you or anyone else where he was going, but he was sure that everyone assumed what he set off to do.

The corner of the paper flowed in the wind underneath the piles of sticks on top of them. His daughter may have been young, but deep down Thomas knew she was smart, far too brilliant for her age, so who was he to doubt her.

Standing up on his feet, his legs felt like jelly as he made his way over to the pit. He picked up the ripped page, eyeing it conspicuously. He took note of Oswald and his wife, and then looked at the bigger picture, and what he saw he couldn’t believe. His doctor, whom he trusted with his own health, was standing next to them in a photograph.

“Son of a bitch.” He didn’t waste one moment before he began to run on foot to the man’s house.

Alfred turned to get in his car, that was not working. “What the hell, how did-“ When he went to close the door Thomas’s arm was wrapped around his neck while he pointed the gun at the side of his temple. Alfred stumbled in his grip, trying to get out but Tommy was far too strong for him to take on.

“You’ve been my doctor for three years now, didn’t realize how well connected you were Alfred. You made me believe I was going to die soon, and knew that I’d rather off myself. Made me believe my wife was in good health. That’s me assuming that’s who you switched my results with eh?” He tightened his grip around the man’s small, fragile throat, making his voice strained when he responded.

“Ye-Yes.”

Thomas forced him onto the hard ground on his knees, while at a fast pace me moved his gun toward the front of the scared man’s face, resting it upon his forehead and cocking it.

“Wait! Wait! You and your wife are both sick. The amount of people you have killed in cold blood and the both of you just stood by, not explaining yourselves to the grieving families.” Tommy rolled his eyes in response, hardening the gun to the man’s head.

“But- but, I think because of your children and your family, you are a changed man. You’re not going to shoot me Tommy.” A dark chuckle escaped from Tommy’s plush, pale lips.

“You see that’s where you’re wrong I am. I’m a changed man until it involves my fucking wife, and my fucking children, Alfred.” In an instant, the echo of his gun firing swam through the neighborhood. People looked through their windows to see what had happened but immediately escaped their windows once they realized it was Thomas Shelby.

Patting down his suite, he exited the property, and walked back to the home he shared with you.

As he walked in the quaint weather, he couldn’t help but watch kids running around, and notice happy families. Why was it he never got to be happy? Grace was taken away, Lizzie was too much, but you? He had never seen a woman be such an amazing mother to his children or treat him the way you did. He knew it was unfair of him to run off on you, not saying a word but he was trying to protect you in not seeing him wither away. Who knew it would be him having to watch you slowly deteriorate.

-

“Mummy! Mummy! Daddy’s home?” Charlie heard her and came rushing down the stairs to look out the window.

“Milly we’ve talked about this he-“ You were cut off by the sound of the door opening. You stopped putting away the laundry and approached the living room quickly. Maybe someone had news of Thomas’s whereabouts, or worse maybe he was dead.

When you passed through the doorway, you felt like you were looking at a ghost, a panicked ghost at that. There your husband stood, like nothing had happened and everything was okay. He was still dressed in his suit but looked like he was rummaging through his mind conflicted and pained.

“Tommy?”

“Yes, my love.” You couldn’t stop yourself from running to him and jumping in his arms, hugging him. He smelt like he had been drinking combined with a hint of grass on his clothes. Your arms being wrapped around him once again felt surreal, and warm. You felt complete and couldn’t stop the water brimming at your eyelids, it had been weeks since you touched him, or seen him and your whole body couldn’t find the will to let go of him, not again.

He patted your back soothingly as he watched Charlie and Milly over your shoulder, they had looked confused as to why you would be crying but happy. He felt terrible watching their innocent eyes, and knowing what he knows now about your inevitable death that was soon to come, and it scared him of the thought he’d be the only parent they had, once again.

“It’s okay, it’s alright. I’m here now darling, I’m not going anywhere ever again, eh?” You nodded into the crook of his dampened neck; your tears had soaked. Tommy was glad they were joyful tears, but he knew that his news would change everything momentarily.

“Charlie, Milly, can you go upstairs I need to talk to your mum privately. I’ll be up in a moment, alright?” You sunk down from his grip and wiped away your tears, looking up at him with those loving, endearing eyes that always managed to brighten his day.

He guided you to the table, taking a seat next to you and folding his hands. When you looked at him he looked, lost like you’d never seen him before but you waited patiently to talk. His hand grazed across to the wooden table before it rest on top of yours, intertwining his fingers.

“My darling, you’re sick, very sick.” You looked at him confused, not catching onto what he meant.

“Ruby visited me today, I think Pol sent her. I left to kill myself and she stopped me, she stopped me and made realize Alfred’s intentions. I’m unsure of if you’ve been reading the paper but there is a photo of him standing with Mosley. I found him and he admitted to switching our results.” Realization sat in, and you leaned back against the chair in defeat. It explain why you’ve not been feeling well, why you’ve been hearing things, seeing things that had no explanation. A part of you had convinced yourself it was because you were adjusting the the thought of Thomas being dead.

“I- But how did-“ He tightened his grip on your hand, pursing his lips together as he had felt he had failed in being the man he was meant to be for you. If he had just not taken the easy way out and disappearing, if he had paid closer attention to the small details before Ruby had gotten sick this could have been avoided.

Thomas felt as if he was breaking at the seams. How did he not see it, how did he miss all the signs?

His heart was breaking inside as he watched you sitting across the table, head buried in your hands while you cried a river. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so weak, and broken.

“Oh god the kids, they-they’ve seen me like this, they’ve been seeing me like this. I don’t want them to anymore. I -I can’t bear the thought of them finding me-“ You couldn’t find the ability to complete that sentence.

Milly and Charlie meant the world to you, and it was hard enough losing Ruby and Thomas, well Thomas had lost everyone and here you sat being added to the list.

“Darling, you know as well as I do there is no cure for a gypsy curse.” It had taken you quite a while to understand Thomas’s upbringing, but you had always put in the time and effort to ask questions, and take interest. Throughout the years being married to him, you didn’t have a doubt in your mind about there being no cure if Thomas said there wasn’t. You never questioned him after Ruby.

-

Tommy’s pov

-

Tonight was an awful night, and I had never felt more weak than I did now. I watched her as she lay in bed, her skin was pale, lips cracked. She was shivering, and she had lost the ability to remember things. I had asked her just the other day if she knew where she was, she didn’t. Somehow, someway she managed to remember the childrens names, but not that she was Milly’s mum, or that Charlie considered her as a mum. Do you know what that does to a man?

Watching your wife slowly wilt away and lose her sanity. Not being able to do anything about it. It’s gut wrenching and it was a pain I had never felt before. I often found when she needed something I would escort myself out of the room, check on the children, and find a place to shed my tears where no one could see, I wanted to be strong for her, for them.

Y/N, has sacrificed her entire life in watching over them, making sure they were fed, clothed, bathed, and taught the simplicities of life. Yet she still always found the time and the effort for our marriage. She worked wonders, and is very bright, brighter than the moon on a clear, quiet night. The amount of weight she had lost from not eating. My wife looked unrecognizable but still beautiful as always.

The delusions had gotten worse, she began to hallucinate at dinner, and the children saw it.

“Who are you people, where am I?” I watched as fear settled within her wide eyes.

“Y/N darling-“ She stood up from the table frantically, searching for a familiar face, and looking at the people she didn’t recognize. She took the glass of water from the table and threw it at the painted wall, shattering it into a million little pieces, making the kids jump in their seats.

I pushed the chair back rushing over to her before she hurt herself or someone else in this room.

That’s when she turned slowly, almost with what seemed like a dead gaze before her arm slowly extended until it pointed toward the empty hallway. I followed her gaze, freezing in my tracks not wanting to frighten her. There was nothing there.

“He’s here.” I looked back to her with calm eyes, hands out so she knew I wouldn’t do anything to her.

“Honey, there’s nothing there.” She shook her at a vigorous rate, disagreeing with me and she began to back into the wall as I approached her with ease.

“Daddy what’s wrong with mummy?” What was I supposed to say to them? That their mother’s delusional, they had already known she was falling of illness. I glanced over to them quickly while my hands rested on Y/N’s flailing wrists.

“Charlie, Milly go to your rooms.” They hadn’t moved, and Milly began to cry.

She was too young to understand at her ripe age of two years old. I looked at Charlie with expectant eyes. I depended on him and I didn’t mean to put all the weight on his shoulders to look after Milly but what choice did I have when I had to take care of their mother, my wife. A man can only handle so much at one time.

“Charlie! Go with Milly, now!” Charlie jolted up out of his seat, grabbing Milly in his arms before running up the stairs with her. Once I heard the door close my attention averted back to Y/N. I watched as she was struggling for air and still screaming at the top of her lungs, her body shaking. I gripped her wrists as I felt that being calm maybe was not the best decision to get across to her that no monster, no ememy, nothing was in the room. Just me, her husband. It killed me withing  knowing that this was something I had no control over, I couldn’t offer her protection from her own mind.

“Y/N! Look at me!” She stayed frantic and I began to shake her gently.

“Hey! It’s alright! It’s alright! Nothing’ there! Look, please my love!” She shook her head vigorously for a moment more before she opened her eyes once I rested my hands on her warm cheeks. Hesitantly, she peered her frightened eyes open, looking up at me for reassurance that it was safe. I nodded to her, and she must have still had an ounce of trust in me as she cautiously poked her head around my shoulder.

She released a held in breath, and began to cry one more as her body collapsed against my chest.

“I’m tired Tommy. I’m tired, I’m-I’m scared.” She hiccupped, and I began to brush my fingers through her hair as I held the back of her head.

“I just want everything to end, to go away. I can’t do this anymore.” Her back was spasming, and her first was clutched into my shirt, holding on for dear. She was ready to let go, she had given up but the problem was, this curse wasn’t that easy to put to an end. It would take you when it was ready, it didn’t care how broken down she was, this curse was about pain, suffering, breaking down a person to their lowest level. I knew at that moment the end was beginning and it was far nearer than I was ready for.

“I know darling. I know.” I couldn’t tell her to keep fighting, what point would that contain? There was no cure for this curse, and I wish I could find one, because until then I must watch my wife die slowly and cruelly.

I held her in my arms as she shivered and sweated at the same time. “Y/N, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” You didn’t nod or anything showing a response to him. The delusions that began a few weeks ago made you question whether Thomas was even your husband, if you even knew who this man holding you was at times. Fear fulfilled you but you found it best not to move and lay there limp as your body was in indescribable pain.

2 Weeks Later

It was a Wednesday when she had passed in my arms.

A small shimmer of sunlight had peaked between the curtains from the morning sky, settling on her still beautiful face. I combed a strand of hair behind her hair, admiring her perfect face before I had realized.

“Y/N?” She didn’t speak in return, and out of disparity I pulled her body in between my arms, embracing her now lifeless body, unable to hold back tears. They came flooding out, running down my cheeks, soaking the thin shirt she had been wearing, I had never felt more vulnerable and lost in my entire being. This was a loss I wasn’t prepared for. Nobody is truly prepared for death, but I wept. I wept and for once I prayed, I prayed that our children did not hear me.

I wasn’t ready to confront them, how was I supposed to tell Milly her mom was gone, how was I supposed to tell Charlie that now his second mother, was dead. My heart went out to our children, they were well behaved, innocent, and just so young and oblivious to the troubles of being an adult. Bless their heart. They were great kids, but I owe it all to you, my dear Y/N.

I telephoned Ada, settling my breath and trying to regain composure. She had answered right away.

“Thomas.” I sniffled in response, brushing away the snot that coated my skin with my sleeve.

“Ada, she’s gone.” The line was silent, assuming she was trying to think of something to make me feel better or make this process easier. I looked back at my wife once more and tried to tell myself, she was sleeping peacefully, it’s an odd feeling that’s indescribable when faced with your dead spouse, just completely still. It had felt like her soul and her being had already left the room, already making the house feel strange to me.

“I’ll be right over. Tommy, I’m so sorry.” I nodded to myself, once again being lost for words and hung up the phone. Should I lay here with her until Ada gets here? Should I go inform Charlie and Milly now? But if I do that, would they try to break into the room? Would they start crying and screaming to see you? Should they see you? My mind was roaming every which way, how do I know what do? You were always the smart one in our marriage.

The children didn’t understand, and I was grateful that Polly tended to Milly and Charlie while I arranged the funeral exactly how Y/N had wanted it.

The venue was closed casket, she did not want a gypsy funeral and she didn’t want the children to see her in that way. It was a close knit group of friends and family per her request in the backyard of the fortress we had built together.

I had the children at my side, dressed in black, and I had Ada braid Milly’s hair as she complained endlessly about it. That was when I saw my dear friend Alfie

“Thomas she was a wonderful woman, she cared for you and understood you inside and out, in a way I don’t think anyone ever has. Sometimes life has chosen to take people from us, and we can never understand why, eh? I nodded, still holding Charlie and Milly’s hands.

“Just know she’s in a better place mate? Alright?” I nodded in response and escorted the children toward the casket. I couldn’t help but feel my breath hitch in my throat, knowing she was in there, a part of me wanted to look but I wouldn’t as I wanted to respect her wishes.

The funeral began, everyone gathering in a small circle. Alfie spoke nothing but kind words and cracked a few jokes here and there to lighten the moods of not only the adults but the kids. It couldn’t stop the feeling of loss everyone had felt. As each person spoke, I realized it was now my turn. I gave Charlie and Milly a hug before I had spoke.

“Where can I even begin to honor this amazing woman. She gave me life, love, laughs, all the things I didn’t think were possible after I came home from the war. She struck something within me as she did to all of us. Her parenting skills and the patience she carried were beyond belief, and beyond anything I could be capable of. She made me learn that life isn’t about losing or winning, it’s not about money or business deals. It’s about family, being there for each other through a difficult time and I want to thank every one of you who came and-“

“Daddy can I say something?” Charlie spoke up interrupting me and my thoughts. I cued him to go ahead.

“Y/N might not have been my mom, but I loved her, and I hate that she’s gone. Life’s not fair, and I wonder why I can’t ever have a mom, but Y/N taught me that life works in mysterious ways and it’s okay to be sad sometimes, it’s what you do with that sadness that matters.” I felt my tears brimming at the rim but clenched my jaw, holding back my emotions for everyone here. I bent down and hugged Charlie telling him how well he did. Milly was in tears and I picked her up into my arms, cradling her before I excused myself into the house with them as I felt we needed a moment alone to be a family.

Later that night…

Once I tucked the children into bed and everyone had left, I felt lost. The person I shared my life with wasn’t home anymore and would never be again.

I closed the bedroom door and locked it. I can’t understand or find the meaning behind Y/N’s life coming to an end so soon. I weakly, opened the bottle of wine that sat atop the dresser while my mind was beginning to go frantic. I didn’t know the kids schedules like you, I didn't know what they liked to eat and what not or even if they were allergic to anything. What if I hospitalize them, or they get hurt on my watch in the way that Y/N and Ruby both did. What if I can’t protect them? How am I supposed to raise Charlie and Milly on my own when I don’t even know these little things about them because of business.

Cracking open the bottle I spilled the sweet alcohol down my throat, it’s taste quenching my nerves but it wasn’t enough. I needed more, as if it could replace the void in my heart.

I found myself rummaging through the drawers, tears brimming at the sight of her clothes lying next to mine but I stopped when I noticed a piece of paper, hanging out of one of her pockets.

“My dear Thomas,

                Don’t be sad, we knew the day would come sooner or later. It may feel like there is no reason to move forward but there is. Look after Charlie and Milly, they need their father, and they love you very much. Remind them every day that I am with them in their hearts, as I am with you. I wouldn’t trade our story for the world because you, Thomas Shelby, complete me. You’ve grown so much, and improved, you put your family first over business though it took quite some time, but you made that change for us. Don’t lose sight of who we are, who you are and what we’ve built. I know you’re scared but I believe in you Tommy, as I always have since day one. Before everything went wrong and I lost my mind I wrote down everything you could possibly be unsure about of the kids schedules, their meal times, doctors. Etc. You’ve got this my love, I promise you, you guys are going to be okay and I will still be around even if you don’t see me.

                                Love Dearly,

                                                Y/N”

I hung my head in disbelief, I don't know where I'd be or where to begin without Y/N. She seems to always think of everything, and every possible situation. I love her dearly, and I could never imagine re marrying or being with another woman after her.

[lustfulslxt]

Sweet Nothings - Matt Sturniolo

summary : as matt’s girlfriend, you feel very insecure being plus size. he assures you he loves every bit of you.

warnings : insecurities and sex.

—

Matt and I had been out at some pool party for a few hours, and quite frankly, I was beyond ready to go. I’m not really a people’s person, much less when I’m surrounded by people who make me feel self conscious.

Being bigger, I’ve always struggled with loving myself. And sometimes I do well with it, but then there’s times like these; when everybody surrounding us is small and beautiful, and I can feel their judgmental stares.

Sometimes, I wonder if Matt sees it too. Surely, he does. He could be with literally anybody he wanted, why would he settle for me?

“What’s the matter, princess?” His voice cuts me from my thoughts.

I turn my head, only to be met with his concerned face staring down at me. I give him a slight smile and shake my head a bit, causing him to wrap his arm around me.

“Do you want to leave? Say the word and we’re gone.”

I pondered for a moment, before ultimately nodding, “Please.”

He brings me in closer, hooking his arm around my shoulders and planting a kiss on my temple. With that, we were finally exiting the party.

Upon making it to his car, he opens the door for me. Once I get in, he stands there looking at me with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What?” I ask him, feeling a little self conscious at the moment.

“You know, you might not want to talk to me, and that’s fine, I won’t force you to. But if you change your mind, just know that I’m here for you. Whatever it may be, I’m always here.” He says, staring me into my eyes.

My lips grow into a smile as butterflies dance in my stomach. I lean forward and plant a soft and gentle kiss on his lips, which he passionately returns.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

He gives me another small kiss and a slight nod, then makes his way over to the driver side of the car. He gets in and we’re on our way.

Throughout the whole ride, I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wonder again. I couldn’t shake my insecurities this time, and it was forming an uncomfortable pit at the bottom of my stomach. I think Matt could sense I was anxious, because he reached over and placed his hand on my thigh, rubbing circles into it.

I truly love this man. He’s everything to me. He’s so funny, so kind, so caring, so charming, so pretty. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the same for him.

“What on your mind, princess?” Matt asks, sparing me a quick glance.

A frown immediately made its way to my face. I wanted to talk to him about this, but I was also scared. I didn’t want to feel stupid, and I really didn’t want to humiliate myself.

Sighing, I ask, “Are you attracted to me?”

Chuckles continuously fell from his mouth, him supposedly finding my question very amusing. Once he took in my serious expression, his face fell.

“What? Are you serious?” He asks, bewildered. “Of course, I find you attractive. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

He frowns, “No! Why? You are perfect to me. Where is this coming from?”

I looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. I could feel a lump forming in my throat and I hate that I just want to cry. I’m always so sensitive sometimes, I just can’t help it.

“I don’t know. Sometimes, I just think.. Like, maybe, you’d rather be with someone else. Someone prettier… Smaller.”

Realization dawned on him, having known about my struggles with myself. He’s always been supportive, caring, and encouraging. It’s just hard to love yourself sometimes.

He doesn’t say a thing, only pulls into a vacant parking lot on the side of the road. Once he’s parked, he stops and stares at me, again, not saying anything.

I began to feel a little nervous under his stare, fidgeting in my seat. Just as I’m about to open my mouth to say something, he swiftly lifts me up and places me on his lap. My cheeks heat up and I immediately try to lighten my weight for him. However, he notices and pulls me back down against him.

“You are beautiful.” He says, giving me a kiss. “You are amazing. You are phenomenal. You are perfect. I’m in love with you and everything about you.”

As he’s talking, his lips are going from my own to around my face and neck. His hands are grabbing all over me, hugging me and pulling me flush against him. I could feel him growing underneath me, and it only made my cheeks turn darker.

"I don't want some scrawny little girl, I want you. You may not like yourself, but I'm going to do everything I can to teach how to love yourself as much as I do. You’re perfect to me, princess.” He tells me, nothing but genuine love and adoration in his eyes.

I can't help but ask, "Why are you so nice?"

"I'm not nice. I'm honest, and you're deserving of it."

I only give him a small smile, then capture his lips in mine. His hands run from my waist, down to my thighs and around to cup my ass. My hands hooked around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

After just a moment of kissing, Matt pulls away. “Can you feel what you do to me?”

As he asks that, he repositions me, so I was now sitting on his full erection. His hard on was directly beneath my core, poking up into me through my shorts, the pressure feeling good on my clit.

"Let me show you." He speaks again, his mouth meeting my neck once more.

My head tilted to the side, giving him more access as he licked and nibbled on my skin. His hands continued to knead my ass, softly grinding me against his groin, soft whimpers leaving my mouth.

"You're so beautiful, baby. Even just the sound of you makes me want to cum." He whispers into my ear, goosebumps spreading across my skin.

"I love you." I whisper back, taking his lips in mine.

It was a sweet yet passionate kiss. We moved perfectly in sync, becoming one with each other. It was like we put every unsaid emotion and feeling into it, figuratively speaking through tongues. I was telling him he was everything and more to me. He was telling me he does and always will love everything about me.

Once we pulled away to catch our breath, he cupped the side of my face with his hand. I leaned into it as he stared into my eyes, both of us taking in each other's features. He leaned forward and placed another gentle kiss on my lips.

"Can I take this off?" He questions me, grabbing the hem of my shirt.

Instead of answering, I just swiftly pulled it over my head and tossed it onto my seat. Out of habit, I covered my stomach with my arms, already feeling a bit self-conscious.

With a frown on his face, he softly grabbed my wrists and pulled them away from me, revealing my stomach. His hands grabbed at my bare skin, fondling me sweetly. He slightly tossed his head back, groaning as he grinded me against him again. Looking back up, his arms reached around my bikini top and tugged the strings, untying them and letting it fall in between us.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He says, his hands cupping each boob and squeezing them.

My hands reached the bottom of his shirt, tugging at it so he could take it off. He does, then immediately pulls me against him, our warm skin flushing together. He places his left hand on my hip, his right hand going behind my head and bringing me closer.

"I wanna make love to you.” He whispers, his voice husky yet soft.

I couldn’t help the heat that spread across my cheeks, my stomach twisting and my core throbbing. Hearing him say that lit a fire in me that only he could put out.

I slightly lifted off of him as he scooted the seat back, and removed my bottoms after struggling a bit from the awkward position. We couldn’t help but laugh with one another, amused from our predicament. As I was adjusting myself, Matt pulled his swim trunks down to his knees, revealing his throbbing cock.

Once we both got settled, his dick was right under my pussy, begging to enter. Matt connects his lips with mine, and one of his hands finds it’s way between my legs while the other goes back and forth from teasing each nipple. His slender fingers poke and prod at my slit, slicking them with my arousal.

“Mm, so wet for me, princess.” He groans, tossing his head back.

“Feels good, baby.” I moaned back.

He slightly lifts me up and lines himself up with my entrance, letting me sink down on him as he rubs my clit with his thumb. Soft whimpers and moans leaving both of our moans at the feeling of each other.

One of his hands wraps itself in my hair, bringing my face closer to his so he could leave a trail of wet kisses down my jaw and neck. His other hand was rubbing up and down my back, before both of them ultimately landed on my ass as he helped me grind against him.

My hands hooked around his neck, my mouth meeting his as he guided me on his dick. Our tongues worked together, exploring each other so deliciously. I was in heaven right now, and from his heavy breathing and slight moans, so was he.

“You feel so good. I love you so fucking much.” He moans into my ear.

He held me so tightly, pulling my body impossibly closer as he thrusted up into me, soft and hard. I couldn’t help the lewd moans that poured out of me, feeling nothing but euphoric. He was fucking me so good, but it felt different than usual.

His hands continued to roam my body, grabbing at every roll and crevice, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. Seeing him indulge in my entire being made me feel so good about myself.

“I swear to god, I love every single thing about you. I could spend the rest of my life like this.” He says, his voice strained from pleasure.

“I love you so much, Matthew.” I moan out, clenching around him.

I could feel him twitching inside of me, indicating he was close. Our bodies were hot, glistening with sweat as we made love. The sounds of our heavy breathing and moans filling the atmosphere. It was all so sexy, I couldn’t help but feel even more turned on. And the fact that Matt was truly showing me he loved every part of me, made it a million times better.

“You’re so good to me, princess.” He moans out.

My face scrunches in pleasure, his praising sending me over the edge as I convulsed above him. My legs were shaking as I fell into him, my orgasm pushing through as I climaxed with a loud pornographic moan.

My finishing pushed Matt to his, his stomach tightening as his hips sputtered. He released his hot load into me, still continuing to push it deeper, filling me up. His voice cracked as he let out a string of moans, his forehead falling to my shoulder.

“Fuck. That was so good.” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

“I just wanted to show you that I love you. All of you.” He tells me, his hands once again grabbing at every part of me.

“I love you so much, baby.” I respond, pulling him into me.

He peppered kisses all over my damp skin, from my shoulders, up my neck, and to my cheeks.

“Mine forever.”

—

a/n : yuhh, mid :( i just need some matt love idkidk. enjoy, send requests 🫶🏼 not proofread btw

[doberbutts]

My apologies about the weird ask! I saw pictures of ballet dancers bloody feet and let it color my view of it, figured if its painful for people with five toes it would be hell for anyone with more than that. Not that they couldn’t or shouldn’t do it, but that it’d be harsher on their feet. As someone who has wide feet that has a hard time with pointed shoes I was wincing 😅 sorry again should’ve kept it to myself

Oh, you're talking about images like this?

Tbh this is fairly extreme and mostly you see this with ill-fitting shoes or with professionals who don't give their feet a break (bc they can't, bc this is their livelihood). Dancing small time competitions in the local rec center shouldn't do this to your feet unless your shoes really suck or your instructor is very hard on you (by ballet standards- ballet instructors are stereotypically fairly tough anyway).

However, ballet does permanently change the way your foot is shaped and the way your joints work.

Not just your feet but your whole body. Especially when started very young, so since I started at 4 and I have a bazillion things wrong with me anyway I was kind of pre-destined to have some problems from ballet later in life. Don't get me wrong, there were also many benefits, and I LIKE ballet, but ballet and foot problems later in life kind of go hand in hand regardless of what your foot was shaped like when you were born.

It's a rigorous discipline and people don't take it seriously because it's seen as hyperfeminine and also because they see how effortless the dancers make the moves look, and they don't see the work it takes to create that visual. So it's very shocking when non-dancers happen upon images or discussions of the drawbacks.

As said before, I never went en pointe due to ankle weakness I couldn't quite fix, so that photo where her ankle is bent at an extreme angle? Yeah my instructor wouldn't let me go en pointe bc she was afraid I'd snap the bones in my ankle the second I tried that move. Ballet flats aren't nearly as bad on your feet as pointe shoes (pointe shoes are in each of those photos), so it wasn't the shoe itself that beat up my feet but the wear and tear of executing the dance moves.

These are flats- much more flexible than pointe shoes and what young children learn on before their skill and development reaches a safe point to graduate to pointe shoes. They're really just a piece of soft leather or satin held on by a stretchy band. Little kids should never be in pointe shoes and I genuinely caution anyone whose instructor told them it was safe before hitting double digits to find a different instructor for whatever kid before they do massive, permanent damage to their feet. Pretty much every medical study out there says you should be at least 11, and preferably 13-15, before you move off of flats.

My instructor believed the same. I stopped ballet because I was tested twice before being allowed to go en pointe and both times failed due to ankle weakness, at about 13-15. So in high school I switched disciplines because otherwise I'd be a teenager dancing with a bunch of little kids still in flats.

THAT BEING SAID I do feel the need to clarify that I have not had extra toes or fingers after my first week of life, because they were banded pretty much immediately after birth and fell off shortly thereafter. So I wasn't some 6-toed kid forcing myself into an unforgiving wooden shoe, I was a 5-toed kid in effectively soft leather moccasins that just happened to have slightly wider feet than you'd expect. I'm not putting photos of my feet on this blog but unless I point it out you wouldn't really be able to tell I was born with extras until I show you the remnants of the little "shelf" where the extras would have grown out of.

I do appreciate the concern- just keep in mind how it might be coming across next time.