#do you know how depressing it is to drink cold tea

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Skz Energies

Chan: I can’t quite describe it. His energy probably resonates the most with me in terms of familiarity and similarity which also makes it harder to describe for me. But his energy kind of gives me the vibes of sleepovers in the winter but not in a cold way, in a warm and cozy way. Like no matter how cold it is outside, inside it’s warm and calming. With coffee, tea, or hot chocolate, curled up under the covers watching your favorite movie but not even paying attention to it because you’re so busy talking and gossiping, while there’s chaos around you but it’s more easing than overwhelming. Almost like a found family environment that he just naturally kind of…Emits. I feel like he withholds things more because he’s afraid of…Offending people? But he also likes to talk and talk and overshare. Sometimes gets off topic.

Minho: Very calm and relaxed. Like a river or ocean at night. Gentle waves, moving slowly with the flickers of light on the surface. Calming. Like the scent of the air right after it rains. But there’s also something expensive about it. Calming and easing yet also closed off. You know you shouldn’t go close or get in, no matter how much you desperately want to. Vague in the sense of only shares what’s necessary, but also speaks his mind with 0 fucks given.

Changbin: What’s the energy equivalent of mouth diarrhea? Dunno. His energy is very lively and almost childish to me? Not in a bad way, but in a sense that it’s very easily excitable and bright. Not necessarily pure, but trusting despite the damage. Like a dog. His energy reminds me of sunny green fields with flowers and bees and butterflies. I fucking hate bees but that’s beside the point. Also with a stream running through it. It reminds me of green, yellow, and the scent of nature without the animal shit.

Hyunjin: Highly depressed. Sometimes passionate and likely, sometimes down in the dumps and gloomy. It flip flops. Leader of the oversharer squad. He reminds me of the scent of rain. The sounds of rain, too. Like sitting by the window while it’s raining and the sun is setting. Curled up with a warm drink and art supplies, headphones in listening to music. That sort of vibe. It’s almost like his energy latches onto these readings to finally be able to get out how he feels and what he’s holding inside. Sometimes it also gives the vibes of when you’re so depressed, drained, and burnt out you can’t even move, or hold anything. Like you’re numb, and drifting. There’s something expensively antique about it.

Han: He reminds me of a cold bath in the best way. He over shares sometimes but also doesn’t do too much? His energy is scattered but also present. Kind of like warm, salty fries and vanilla ice cream. That’s what he reminds me of. Just sitting around anywhere, eating fries and ice cream while the world around you is still moving. Time doesn’t seem slow. It’s just right. Not fast, not slow, but just…Moving. There’s a sense of normalcy, but not in a boring way. More in a sense of contention with the world just being as is.

Felix: His energy is very warm and welcoming. Almost like when you’re a child and you’re just laying in bed with your parents, under the covers snuggled up with them and their warmth. They’re so large and you’re so small but you feel so warm and calm. Like nothing could ever happen. It’s bright and naive and innocent but not manchild-like and more…Painfully optimistic. Again like a dog. No matter how much they’re hurt, they still trust and love unconditionally, whether it’s returned or not. He shares a lot but doesn’t quite overshare? He knows what you can handle. But he also keeps things to himself. Like he doesn’t want to ruin others’ perceptions of him. He reminds me of the smell of cinnabar.

Seungmin: His energy reminds me of laying around in bed talking shit with your best friend, drinking wine and watching trashy reality TV. He shares what he wants and doesn’t share anything he doesn’t want to. Not even in a manipulative way, but in a “Why do you need to know that?” Kinda way. And I live for it. He’s blunt and doesn’t care to spare feelings. He doesn’t give a shit. There’s always a dry humor to his responses. But you can also tell he cares very deeply for people and things.

Jeongin: He reminds me of a bright sunny day in the park just walking aimlessly, talking about any and everything while you just do whatever. He’s definitely the one with the most mellow energy. Just calm and…I don’t want to say normal but normal. Not too broken or depressed but not unrealistically happy or optimistic either. Just average. Not even in a bad way. It’s very refreshing. He also readily gives information he’s comfortable giving and doesn’t give what he doesn’t wish to. He reminds me of the smell of lavender.

[tac-the-unseen]

Slashers getting sick

Michael Myers:

• He's pissed

• How could his body do this to him??

• kinda betrayed ngl

• will refuse medicine

• He's to strong for that 😒

• also it tastes yucky

• your probably gonna have to make him tea with honey if you want to actually help

• coax him into bed with the promise of candy afterward

• that's about all he'll let you do

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

If only stu is sick:

• he will be super clingy

• wants to eat but physically can't

• might just lay in bed crying

• you and Billy sit with him and make sure he sleeps

If only Billy is sick:

• attempts to power through it

• ends up fainting

• you and stu are great care takers

• you two have to dog pile on Billy to make him lay down

If both are sick:

• They kind balance each other out

• Billy wants to get up and move, stu wants to lay down and cuddle

• thank God you have a more than one bathroom

• you have to hide stu's medicine in drinks

• you have to call Billy a chicken to get him to take it

• Both make sad noises until they get what they want

Thomas Hewitt:

• he doesn't get sick often but when he does...oh boy

• this is Texas heat, if any Hewitt is sick you have to but them in the basement

• it's the coldest place in the house

• even then he's gonna have to take off his shirt

• wants chicken and human noodle soup

• he really wants to go up and eat with the family

• it REALLY upsets him that he can't

• please go down stairs and eat with him

Bubba Sawyer:

• tired and sad and doesn't know why

• you have to be the one to figure out he's sick

• he feels weak

• when Bubba gets sick he goes into a depression

• sad babbles as he trys to explain that he has to provide for the family

• he goes to bed when you sternly tell him to go

• you freeze a towel and give it to him

• again he's in Texas

• holding his hand and telling him he'll be better soon helps him trough it

• forehead kisses are ideal for a sick Bubba

Bo Sinclair:

• " Bo you're sick"

• " No I'm not!"

• " go to bed!"

• "No!"

• * almost vomits*

• " ......fine..."

Vincent Sinclair:

• he is one of the only normal ones

• He knows his body's limits and takes care of himself

• He's very grateful that you want to help him

• all he wants you to do is bring him food and cuddle up to him

Lester Sinclair:

• he is the definition of male sickness

• he could cut off his arm and he'll just duct tape it back on

• but as soon as he has a cold he's dying

• looks like a lowly peasant boy asking for bread

• you have to wash him, help him to the bathroom, feed him, all that jazz

• he is forever grateful that he has you

• feels bad that you have to do all that for him though

Billy Lenz:

• if he sneezes he begs you to call in sick at work to take care of him

• "you're fine Billy"

• " No no no no Y/N my tummy hurts."

• " You ate 3 crayons"

Brahms Heelshire:

• cries

• begs for his mom

• He tackles you into cuddling

• he wants grilled cheese and tomato soup

• will fight you if you try and give him medicine

• just put it in the soup and he won't know

Hannibal Lecter:

• he refuses to let you take care of him

• "you'll end up getting sick too."

• Quarantine time

• he does everything himself

• appreciates that you want to help

• lays in bed and reads books

• will give YOU medicine so YOU do t get sick

Thanks for reading <3

You can soooo tell I wrote this two years ago. (P.S. That's why there isn't anything for Will Graham or The Lost Boys.)

[plutoswritingplanet]

Ring Of Fire (Lucifer x Female!Reader)

a/n: again, no one asked for this, but i've been rewatching supernatural and there is something about season 5 Lucifer that just hits the spot for me. this one will be multiple chapters (i swear), a bit on the darker side. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (nothing too scandalous), Soulmates (but not really), follows season 5 storyline, Kinda Depressing, Strongly Inspired by "Preacher's Daughter" by Ethel Cain

Summary: Knowing God has an actual plan for you would be comforting for most people. You, however, seem to be always down on your luck.

PT.2

The foliage is damp with the night's air, water seeping into the fabric of your jeans, as you sit in the low bushes, watching. Smoke still fills your lungs, and grief still fills your heart, Jo and Ellen's faces etched just beneath your eyelids. Tears stain your cheeks, drying slowly on your skin, forming an uncomfortable crust. It's been such a long time since you've experienced loss such as this. One that rips something out of you and refuses to give it back. You must've grown too comfortable since Dean has been brought back, life needed to bring you back down. Your hands hurt from the tight grip you hold on a branch of a nearby tree, nerves locking you in place, as you watch Dean approach the Devil. Except, you're not there anymore. 

It's warm inside Bobby's home, and you've changed out of your past outfit, scattering it on the floor, never to be used again. Still, you can feel phantom moisture on your knees, elbows, on the palms of your hands. Coldness, like nothing you've ever experienced, seeps deep into your bones, taking root within you. No candle, no prayer, no ancient exorcism can cleanse you of the revelations you've seen tonight. Your head feels heavy, when you drop it onto the pillow, as if some weight is pressing you further down, through the comforter, through the bed and the wooden floor. Through all the layers of Earth, until you're right where you're supposed to be. 

It's unfortunate, you thought back then, compelled to reveal yourself from your hideout by one command you couldn't ignore, he looks just like any human. Tall and lean, with a little softness to his body. His clothes were unassuming as well, casual. As if he just took a stroll through the woods from a supermarket. No one told you the name of his vessel, who he was before he said yes, why did he do it. His eyes were ordinary as well. Blue and gray, aged, tired. Human.

It would've been so easy to pass him on the streets, not knowing. He could've been one of the patrons in the countless bars you've visited while on the hunt. Handsome, yes, with an aura of a beaten dog around him, that, in any other circumstances would've made him irresistable to you. You could never refuse a hopeless case, now you supposed you knew why. 

Sam made you tea. It sits untouched on your night stand, steam flowing in dancing ribbons into the ceiling. Somehow, you can't seem to force yourself to drink it, even if you know the intention behind it has been kind. You couldn't eat as well, the smell of cooking coming from Bobby's kitchen reminded you too much of the smell of smoke coming from the exploding hardware store. And his smell. 

Burning coals, cedar wood, jasmine, all of them were pleasant once. Now, you know they will always be stuck in your head with only one association. Lucifer. 

Even thinking of his name brings a wave of shivers running down your back, as you curl into yourself on the bed. Your fingers scratch at skin of your jaw, trying to regain some sense of autonomy. Still, you can feel a phantom of his icy touch, where he grabbed your face like his hands were meant for it. And in a way they were. At least, that's what he told you. 

The demons gathered around the mass grave didn't even react, as you ran out of your cover, pushed to reveal yourself by the sight of Dean's flying body. Because how else would he coax you out, if not through the hurt of your boys? In hindsight, you were glad Dean was unconscious for the most part of this ordeal. After the night's events, it was hard to look him in the eye, you didn't need him witnessing your downfall over your head as well. Sam tried to make his way over to you, feet sliding cautiously through the grass, but suddenly Lucifer's eyes were on you, and you could feel your fate get sealed then and there. 

He clasped his hands in front of him, pursing his lips as he took you in, cowering on the ground, trying hard to find Dean's pulse. 

- You boys brought me a gift - he mused, eyes crinkling with some strange emotion - You shouldn't have. 

One gesture later, you're up on your feet, limbs trembling as he abandoned his shovel in favor of making his way towards you. You're frozen, fear seizing you in a tight grip, and you can't seem to think straight, as you watch him approach. Last day on Earth, you muse, life flashing before your eyes, when he raises both his hands. And then he grips your face, gentle yet confident, and the world around you spins. He's cold, so cold it's unnatural. Your lips fall apart in a silent gasp. 

- Do you know who you are? - he asks in a quiet voice that suddenly makes you understand why he's temptation incarnate - Do you know why you were put on this Earth?

All you can do is stare, confusion creasing your eyebrows. His breath reaches your collarbones, as he lowers his head slightly. You can hear him chuckle to himself. The sound makes you shudder, fear and anticipation mix within your gut. 

- All those years of hunting, struggling... - your life seems so trivial, coming from his lips - It all lead you here, to me. Doesn't that sound lovely?

It doesn't. It most definitely doesn't. Tears of confusion prick at the corners of your eyes, your breathing quickens. Panic settles into your nerves like a paralyzing blanket. Because here stands a threat of magnitude you couldn't even dream of. The Satan, the Devil, Bible's biggest villain. And he knows something about you, that you cannot comprehend. 

- It's really quite pathetic, when you think about it - he muses, hands leaving your face in a flash, as he starts to pace in thought.

Swaying in your place, you risk looking at Sam, his confusion mirroring your own. Dean is still unconscious beside him. There's a thin smudge of blood running down his forehead, and you want to move so badly. You've spent years caring for these boys, being there for them, whenever they needed you. Yet, at this crucial moment all you can do, is stare in horror.  

- My Father's last ditched attempt - Lucifer turns to you with a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes - To give me my own special little bag of worms. To own, to care for, to change my mind. 

- What?

Your own voice sounds foreign to your ears. Lies. Those had to be lies. He's Satan after all, manipulation was his forte. Yes, that had to be it. Just another, messed up way at getting an upper hand over Sam. 

This time, you nearly scream when he advances towards you, his cold hands immediately finding purchase on your face, covering your jaw and your cheeks. He presses against your face so hard, you have to take a step back as he comes closer still. Sam's figure flashes out of the corner of your eye, and suddenly you feel the rough surface of a tree bark digging into your back. 

- You - for the first time you can hear some tension in his voice, something more than cold indifference - You were made for me, Honey. Just like Sam is destined to be my vessel, you're destined to be by my side. To own, to care. - he repeats those words like a mantra, and you want to throw up at how genuine he sounds.

He smiles at your terror. Tears start to flow freely from your eyes, falling on his cold fingers, skipping down his arms in smudges. His hands start to move, a perversion of a caress, as he ruffles your hair. Your head bounces off the tree, and you try with all your might to free yourself out of his grip. Your limbs flail at your sides, and you crane your neck so far back, your muscles start to strain. He doesn't let go, pressing himself closer, one of his hands coming up to grip your hair. Your nails dig into his cotton shirt, as you push against his chest to no avail. 

- No - you whisper, your rejection falling flat against his unaffected stare - I'd never...

- See, but that's the best part - his sudden enthusiasm scares you deeper, than any passive stare ever could. - Unlike Sam...

You backpedal into the tree again, as he leans closer still. His cold breath mixes with your short, panicked ones, and your stomach churns, when he tilts his head in curiosity, as if he's experiencing this intimacy for the first time. And in a way, you suppose he is. Then, his eyes meet yours, gray captivates you, and you hold your breath on instinct.

- You don't have to say yes to me. 

You're not even allowed the decency of taking a gasp of air, when his lips press into yours. It feels beyond weird. He's unnaturally cold, and there is a sort of unpracticed sloppiness in the way he fights for your mouth to fit against each other. Reminding you of your first, inexperienced romances, he smashes your faces together until you feel both sets of your teeth through the flesh. Then, he pulls back just a smidgen, taking in your terrified face. Something flashes through his expression, and he sighs, leaning back towards you, stopping just short of your left ear. 

- Kiss me like you mean it, or I'll make Dean eat his intestines. 

He looks at you, just once, letting you know this is not a game. Your heart stops. 

Dean's unconscious body starts to move by the tree, and never in your life have you felt so helpless. So, when Lucifer unavoidably leans back down, you give him all you've got. Your body arches, hands come up to his hair, and you will yourself not to feel grossed out by the feeling of his cold tongue slipping past your teeth. It's a fight for survival, you remind yourself, as his hands move to your back, rubbing your skin like a horny teenager in a bathroom stall. The short supply of air you've been granted runs out quickly, and as pressure builds in your lungs, you start to push against the Archangel's chest. He doesn't register what you're doing, not at first, confusing your sudden unwillingness as some sort of late attempt at rebellion. That is, until you bang your fist against his shoulder, letting out a muffled scream. 

Finally, he detaches himself, hair even more disheveled than before. You take a heaving gasp of air, as you brace yourself against the tree, your vision swimming ever so slightly. Lucifer watches you, his body hunched over, as if he's observing some middle schooler's science project. There are new tears in your eyes, just waiting to fall. Your hair is disheveled and your lips are puffy from his unpracticed assaults. His right hand comes up to his face, and he bites on his index finger in thought. 

- You really are human - he muses to himself, and with every fiber of your being, you try to explode his head with your brain - That's no fun, you'll break so easily...

- Fuck you - your words make his eyebrows raise, and he straightens out with a flourish.

- Fuck you - he repeats, mocking your tone - Yeah, I probably will - you watch, disgusted, as he sends a wink towards Sam.

Then, he's back to his shovel, back to his mass grave, where he completes the ritual. 

You can't move, not really, even when Sam tugs on your shoulder. Your head runs empty, realization of your current predicament far from registered in your brain. You stay frozen in your spot, when Castiel arrives, taking the three of you back to Bobby's house. Only, when the Angel's hand pushes against your rib cage, only when you feel Enochian symbols burn into your bones, do you lift your gaze. Apologetic doesn't really cover the way Castiel looks at you, and the pity painted on his face drags you down more than any Devil could.  

Sam is the only one to truly understand, when you fall to the floor, shock, anger and dread spilling out of you like a broken faucet. He's the only one that truly knows how it feels to have your bodily autonomy stripped away by the literal Devil. How it feels to have a threat of such magnitude hanging over you, every day. Which is why, he's the one to lift you in his arms, and get you to the guest room, lead away by the concerned glances of the rest of the men. He's the one to make you tea, bring you fresh clothes. He opens the window when the smell of dinner makes you retch. And finally, he's the one to explain, what really happened back on that hill to the rest of the group.

From your fetal position on the bed you can hear Dean curse, throw something somewhere. All the ways he knows, how to show he cares. Despite everything, it makes you smile, face pressed to the pillow that smells like cigarette smoke and beer. You're doomed. There's nothing you can do against God's plan, and you can feel that thought take root in you like an invasive species ready to destroy every crop in it's path. Still, despite it all, a sense of security falls upon you like a decieving blanket. 

- What sort of a messed up game is this? - Dean screams somewhere in the house, you assume it's at Cass, the only one even remotely aware of your destiny. 

The idea, that God made you specifically to be Satan's personal therapist sounds far fetched at best, but given how the last couple of months have been going, you're more inclined to believe in the absolutely worst scenarios. You don't even need to hear Castiel's response. The sound of glass breaking is telling enough. Then, a door slamms somewhere, and the house falls into heavy silence.

You can't think. Can't allow yourself to fall apart more than you've had already. So, you focus on the sound of your own breathing, interlinked with your heartbeat. Steady, alive. Your eyelids are heavy, eyes burn with drying tears, so you close them and sigh. Exhaustion pinns you in place, sinking you into the blankets. Darkness welcomes you like a long lost friend.

Your boys will find a way, they always do. And Lucifer can't find you, not with the wards Castiel has put on you. You'll have to thank him i the morning, you think, and it's the last conscious thought you have, before slipping into sleep, shivering like an abandoned child. 

[soap-ify]

GLADIOLUS | simon 'ghost' riley x reader

cw — angst, heavy suicidal tendencies, simon is NOT okay, he is depressed, mentions of death, hurt/no comfort but there's comfort too if that makes sense, bittersweet ending. [1.4k]

italic paragraphs mean flashback!

Cold and stale, the tea in Simon’s hand had long lost its heat. Almost like a cruel mockery of his own life, slowly losing the warmth that made him a human, reducing him to nothing but a breathing corpse.

A waste.

“I think my life’s too short for our love.”

His words caused you to look at him with confusion, trying to mask the inner turmoil brewing in your head at his sickeningly vague words.

“Sorry?” Though you had heard him well, you still wanted him to repeat it, to hear his voice once more.

Simon sighed and put the tea cup aside, having no energy left within him to drink anything, or even do anything. Trapped by the chains he couldn’t see, maybe just simply forged by his own brain. Brown irises soon looked over at you, still holding the same fondness as all the other times.

“I…” He paused momentarily, the thoughts in his head too loud yet distant. “My life. S’too short to love you properly in the way you deserve.”

“Don’t say that, Si. It’s more than enough.” You smiled and placed a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder. Your words were like a sweet lullaby, calming him a bit. A bit.

So he stayed quiet and nodded, pretending that he was fine now, letting you stay in this false bubble he had made up for you both — tranquil and domestic. A paradox to his actual life.

Simon had been overly fascinated by knives lately. Even guns. Not by their beauty, but by the damage they could inflict. He’d let his gloved thumb caress the sharp edge of his knife sometimes, wondering what it’d be like to just stab it into his neck at this very moment.

Some poor unfortunate soldier would find him lying in his own blood, completely oblivious to how contentful he’d be.

Other times, Simon would fiddle with one of his guns, awful intrusive thoughts invading his head, making him feel overly sick. What if he just presses the barrel against his forehead, his finger on the trigger. One click and he’d be gone for good.

Was it selfish to want to die? Simon couldn’t even point out why he feels this way, or since when. All he knows is that nothing helps anymore. Well, you do, sometimes. Though he’d rather have you not see this damaged man rotting himself away more and more. He loves you too much for that.

Was it really selfish to want to die? All he wanted was to leave behind everything, leave behind the blood on his hands and the deaths he had seen, leave behind the memories and just fly away, finally free from the chains suffocating him.

He wanted to become the air, and you’d be his sunlight then — both of you dancing around each other everyday, together once again.

Maybe he could be better for you that way.

“Si.” You poked Simon’s arm, momentarily interrupting his quiet reading. Not that he minded though.

“Yeah?”

“I want to ask you something.” The mild shyness adorning your face sparked his curiousity, causing him to put his book aside and turn all of his attention onto you.

“Go on.” He urged softly.

“Um… Do you think we’d be together in every universe?” You felt silly for asking a question like that, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes looked away.

Simon paused for a second, brown eyes softening up as he studied your expression. Together in every universe? God, he’d do anything for that. Anything to love you in every life of his.

“Yeah.” He grumbled softly after a while, a poor attempt to appear nonchalant, though it failed as soon as you hugged his arm happily, making him chuckle under his breath.

“I’ll find you in every universe.”

Gladiolus. It’s a pretty flower, though Simon doesn’t like it just for its beauty. He feels oddly connected to it, uncomfortably exposed — even though he didn’t know why. Could flowers even speak to you?

Which is why he decided not to pick them, turning away to look at some other options. It was his little routine to bring you flowers whenever he could. Though this time, it was different.

A mission — a suicide mission. He was dreading the moment he would have to announce it to you, knowing that he couldn’t back out from it anymore. That was his job. All the dirty stuff.

It was hard, too hard. Watching you collapse in his arms while sobbing in pure devastation absolutely tore his heart, his arms holding you tightly while your fingers hardly dug into his arms, trying to touch him whole.

“M’sorry, love. It was just… supposed to happen one day.”

He couldn’t really recognise the words coming out of his mouth anymore, not really knowing what to say. He couldn’t give you false promises, especially when you both knew the severity of this situation.

Laying on the ground, drenched in blood, wasn’t that bad. He felt a sickening relief that made him feel nauseous yet happy at the same time. His hand was pressed against the severe bleeding wound on his stomach, fatal coughs leaving his mouth while he weakly stared at the sky, the sounds of shouts and gunshots too distant and blurry. It was as if he was slowly slipping away into a bubble that carried him away from this battleground and into somewhere calmer.

At least I didn’t kill myself with that damn gun, he thought to himself, smiling weakly. At least there wouldn’t be any nightmare anymore, no more sleepless nights and random outbursts. Peace. The beauty of death slowly engulfed him, wrapping her arms around him and slowly taking him away from this damned life.

You. He lost consciousness thinking about you — about how he left you back at home, about how he wasn’t strong enough to just retire from the military once you moved into his place.

I’m sorry, words he could desperately say, I’m sorry for not being strong for you.

Though right before dying, he made an oath to himself that if there was even a tiny chance of him living another life after this, he’d find you.

It was another one of those sunny days where you wished you had enough funds to fix the damn air conditioner. Your fingers silently put the last gladiolus into the bouquet one of the old ladies around the town had requested, the sweet scent of flowers soothing your senses.

The soft jingle of the door opening averted your gaze from the bouquet, your eyes falling onto your new customer walking into the flower shop. The sheer size of this mine caught you off guard, though you were quick to scold yourself for being so invested into someone’s height.

“Welcome. How can I help you?” You smiled politely and put the bouquet aside. Once those brown eyes of his met yours, both of you went dead silent for a split second, a strange spark igniting somewhere in between you.

He seemed… familiar. You were sure that you haven't seen him ever in your life, but something about him made you feel as if you knew him. Your fingers twitch involuntarily, feeling as if they had run through those dirty blonde hair off his.

He stared at you with, internally equally bewildered. His lips were slightly agape behind the black surgical mask he wore, for which he was glad for since you couldn’t see the soft shade of red slowly spreading on his cheeks. Why were you so familiar? He felt an odd pang in his chest, making him momentarily forget about why he was even here.

Oh yes, flowers.

“Can I have some roses?” He grumbled under his breath, quickly looking away as he reached for his wallet. “S’my mom’s birthday today.”

“That’s sweet. Happy birthday to her.” You looked away alongside him, a soft bashful smile creeping up on your lips as you began grabbing some newly fresh roses.

It was silent for a while between you both before he eventually broke the thickening silence, clearing his throat, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thanks. Um… My name’s Simon, by the way.” God, he was awkward at this.

You stared at him for a second before letting out a soft giggle, introducing yourself. “Here are your flowers, Simon.”

He felt as if he had been searching for you his whole life.

[cntloup]

Levi Ackerman x reader

post-war!Levi, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, implied depression, Levi being closed off and not good with feelings :')

yes this is a repost i made some changes :')

you mindlessly saunter inside the living room, only to be met by the consuming darkness that surrounds it, immediately shifting your mood to a more gloomy one.

you make your way to the shadowy figure sitting on the couch and place the two cups of tea that you've been carrying on the table.

you cautiously take your place beside him in the bleak atmosphere that's settled in the room and turn your face to his bandaged one.

"drink it before it gets cold." you try to sound as non-demanding as possible, a faint smile painting your face that goes unnoticed by the man sitting next to you which then wipes the smile off your face.

there are dark clouds looming over him as he stares into the distance. it's almost as if you can see them too.

you can feel the gloom and darkness seeping through him and consuming you as well.

and what's even more heartbreaking is that it seems like he doesn't even notice your presence.

"Levi..." you call out, voice soft and sweet as ever as you gently take his hand off his lap to intertwine your fingers only for him to pull his hand away.

he's been getting more and more distant lately, pulling away from you gradually as the void devours his soul bit by bit.

and you can't do anything but watch as you slowly lose your lover to this darkness that's been consuming him.

it shatters your heart every time he slaps your hand away when you reach out to him.

he's taken aback for a moment by your touch, but quickly gathers his composure and stands to leave the room.

"Levi! please wait!" you blurt out suddenly, stopping him dead in his tracks. there's a hint of desperation in your voice as it slightly quivers.

his back is still turned to you, but he's stopped so you go on, "please, Levi! talk to me. don't shut me out." you implore, breaking his heart with your sorrowful tone, but he manages to keep the cold facade.

"there's nothing to talk about." he speaks dryly and leaves the room, not even bothering to take a small glance at you, leaving you clenching your chest as your heart aches from his coldness, and for him, his pain, what he's going through. your heart aches for your husband.

you decide against your better judgment and go after him as he steps into the yard, "Levi! I know you're hurting. please let me in." you say and lighly grab his arm to make him turn to you.

"why? what good would it do?" he snaps, his tone low and dark, still not looking at you as his head hangs low.

"so i could help-", "help me, how?" he cuts you off, voice slightly raised as he finally turns to look you in the eye with seething daggers. and you have to admit, it certainly does hurt you.

"in any way you want me to. just please talk to me. nothing will get solved by acting cold and distant." you respond, trying to reason with him as best as you can.

"i-i don't..." he trails off as if he's been caught off guard, averting his gaze from you once again, feeling flustered as he tries to keep his cool and not break down right before your eyes.

he deeply regrets his behavior. he shouldn't treat you like this. you don't deserve to be treated this way, the one good thing he has in his life.

"you don't what, Levi?" you encourage him to go on as you step closer to him, caging his face between your hands gently to make him look at you.

he can't believe how kind and sweet you are even after snapping at you like that. and your kindness only makes the sorrow and remorse pile up in his heart.

"i don't know... i-i don't deserve you." he mumbles lowly, shutting his eye for a moment before looking into yours.

"what made you think that?" you ask in disbelief, utterly surprised by his words. you have always been the one who thought to be undeserving of his love. you have no idea what brought this on.

"leave it." he snarls, back to his cold demeanor, building his walls higher this time after a moment of vulnerability.

he turns on his heel and steps into the house again while you follow his every footstep.

you take the cup of tea off the table and offer it to him, "here.", "no, thanks." he rejects coldly.

he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a frustrated sigh as he takes his previous place on the couch and you sit beside him, waiting patiently.

"sometimes i just wonder... why you're still here." he speaks after some time, catching you off guard.

"what do you mean? do you want me to leave?" you question in disappointment and slight confusion.

"no, i mean with me. why are you still with me?" he asks, a faint crack visible in his voice.

"i'll always stay with you, Levi. through everything like we said in our vows, remember?" you respond, wrapping your arms around his bicep from your spot beside him and place your chin on his shoulder.

he feels the tears threaten to spill and soon, the dam breaks as his head flops in his hands, letting out quiet sobs of repressed anguish.

"Levi..." you call out softly, your confusion and helplessness building up, sorrow clenching your heart in its fist at this sight of him.

"i'm not who i used to be, who you chose to marry. now i have these scars. visible and invisible ones. you don't deserve this pain. you should leave and live a happy-" he manages to speak through his cries of despair and it finally dawns on you what he meant before you cut off his rambling.

"ok, stop! i'm gonna stop you right there. you're a fool if you think i would leave you because of that. if anything, it's all the more reason i should stay. i want to stay. there's nothing that could make me leave you, even you, Levi. you're stuck with me whether you like it or not." you say with a sincere smile on your pretty face which makes his heart skip a beat.

you reach out to gently wipe his tears, "i love you, Levi." you whisper as he sighs and shuts his eye, leaning into your touch.

"i love you too." he replies, finally a genuine smile making its way to his face, your words acting like a soothing balm on his wounds.

he leans in to kiss your lips, "i'm sorry... for hurting you." he murmurs after you pull away to take a breath.

"i'm not saying that was ok, but i forgive you. just don't shut me out again. we're in this together." you remark and he nods, kissing the back of your palm, "i'll try. promise."

for you, he surely will try. he's willing to do anything for you. and you will wait patiently for him to come around as long as it takes.

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Metamorphose | 2k

my masterlist | ao3 ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ✦ Summary: You and Simon deal with the pain of losing a baby. ✦ TW and general warnings: established relationship, angst, fluff, sensitive content (abortion), depression and eating disorder mentions, it's painful but he comforts you

A/N: Hi everyone! Since I'm working hard on some requests I've received and in the next chapter of Shades of Red, I decided to release this kinda old drabble of mine here. I'm not too satisfied with how it ended up but enoughly to post, so enjoy <3

I'd also like to mention that I have a taglist for my longfic Shades of Red but not one for my general writing and drabbles so I'll make a post for it, but till then, if anyone's interested in being tagged in my general posts and drabbles, please let me know <3

The sky is colored in blue, pink and purple.

Mostly blue.

You stare outside of the window while it changes, a golden yellow sun by the morning that rises; it spent too much time burning bright in the also bright blue sky. You counted the hours till it started descending. Now, the sun was nothing more than a little line by the horizon, and the sky was fading into cold colors, fading into the cold night. 

You feel hungry, but it felt wrong to eat knowing you’d be sick of your stomach the second food hits it. You’re not in town anymore, Simon decided it would be better if the two of you took some time out in the country, where it was safe and you’d have time and space to do the things you loved. Running with your dog, swimming in the lake, breathing the fresh air. Truth is, you don’t feel like doing anything. Your legs are too tired, you’re sleepy, you’re tired. You’re very tired. 

You heard him on the phone earlier. His voice was hoarse and low, he argued you wouldn’t want to receive visits. You could tell whoever it was - was insisting, pushing him too hard into allowing them to visit you. He blatantly denied, and you could feel his mood changing in a bit of seconds, his patience running low and the moment he turned off and let out a huge snort; and it had been perhaps two hours since that happened.

You let out a tired sigh, your empty sad eyes stare down at a small sign of movement under the window you were staring at. A little cocoon, seeming to be still inhabited, was hanging from a little line in there. You knew it was supposed to keep hanging till the moment that little caterpillar metamorphosed into a butterfly, and broke the shell, flying out freely. But for some reason you can’t understand - as well as many things in nature, this one cocoon is about to fall.

Your shaky hands reach out for it and before it hit the ground, you carefully pull it and it detaches without a second guess. You take a small look around the room and grab a small empty cup where the water you were supposed to have drunk evaporated, and place the small thing inside of it.

“There you go.” You mutter, the first time you hear your own voice in days, maybe weeks. 

Some things aren’t supposed to happen. And you’re not supposed to die without being conceived the chance of living, even if only for a day.

You reach for Simon downstairs, minutes later. Looking pale for the lack of food you’ve been putting yourself through, tired for even standing, collateral effects of the strong medication you’re taking for the sake of your life. 

“Baby.” You mutter, and he turns instantly from the alluring stare he was giving the fireplace. Your man’s sitting in a cozy armchair, drinking tea - cold at this point - and dissociating just like yourself. You blame yourself for a second: how can you put him through so much? Isn’t he suffering as much as you, why are you isolating him?

“Yes, my love?” He quickly responds, like he craves for hearing more of you. “Another nightmare?” he asks, standing to come closer to you.

You shook your head. “No… I found this.” you show the cup between your hands; Simon doesn’t seem to get it at first glance. “A butterfly. It’ll come out anytime, the cocoon is moving.” you state.

“Oh.” He raises an eyebrow, and sighs a little. “What a cute thing… Should we put it in the garden?” He asks, so much calm in his voice you feel yourself a little lighter. 

“I want to see it.” You state. “The butterfly, I don’t know what type it will be, I’m curious.” 

Simon looks at you like love would, if love was a person. He’s as tired as you, you can tell. Maybe his legs work a bit more than yours and his hands have the capacity of doing the hard work still, but his mind is as empty as yours.

“Of course.” He nods, and reaches for his own coat, placing it around your shoulders. You feel warm and cozy to the smell of him. “We can watch, come on.” he suggests, and grabs onto your hand. 

His squeeze is light and calm, and your body follows him instinctively, not thinking about anything but the comfort you crave right now.

For the past few days, the only thing you could think of was the void in your belly. The void you haven’t felt in months; when you told him you were pregnant, Simon stared at you in complete despair and horror for at least ten excruciating silent minutes. You weren’t used to the idea as well, you’d have to interrupt your current work, you’d have to dedicate yourself to learn the slightest about being a mother.

It is a lie that every woman is born knowing how to hold a baby. When the two of you would visit some of your friends and their children, you’d try to picture yourself as holding your own baby instead of holding theirs. You couldn’t. They’d tell you that oh, god, don’t hold him like this, while laughing. But for you that was a sinful despairing moment.

Simon knew better than you, as a matter of fact. He held babies correctly, unintentionally - but very correctly. 

You didn’t know if you were supposed to feel envious of his natural ability or proud of having this man as a daddy to your baby. 

You learnt to love the little thing growing in your belly. He did, too. He would often bring gifts to you - keeping track with your cravings, and also buying things for the baby. Baby’s little room would be full soon enough. This little creature who wasn’t even born yet was everywhere around your house. The worries about conciliating Simon’s work with your pregnancy were starting to catch the two of you off guard, and soon as he asked for a license to take care of his pregnant wife, that day. That night. So much pain, so much blood. He wasn’t a small lifeless fetus anymore, it was a whole baby. It was a girl. She had a name. 

Some things aren’t supposed to happen. 

“Your parents want to visit.” He mutters, the two of you sitting in the swinging chairs by the garden, surrounded by dozens of different kinds of flowers. The weather is fairly cold, but you don’t feel it with his coat around yourself. “Told them you wouldn’t want to.

“I don’t.” You agree. “Tell them I need time.”

“I did.” He fixes the coat you have around yourself, and glares into you as the sky fades into deeper tones of dark blue. “I was a little less polite than that, but I did.”

“If you weren’t, they wouldn’t listen.” You argue, looking at him now, too. Your eyes fall deep into the void of his own. 

For the first time in those two painful weeks, you can feel his pain flowing through his damaged soul. Like yours. 

“I know. Terribly stubborn blood you have, dear.” he mutters, moving your hair off your face. “Did you manage to eat something today?”

“No. I’m sorry.” You mutter, your voice failing for the first time.

“Don’t do this to me.” His voice comes out pained like yours. He closes his eyes, and his jaw clenches in sadness when he sees the tears start gleaming through your eyes. “Don’t apologize. Don’t cry…” he asks in an almost begging voice.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, love, this is all my fault, it’s-” you catch your breath in your throat and suddenly, you’re falling apart. Days of nothing, weeks of not feeling anything but pain in your chest, despair, panic, and now you’re falling apart in front of him. Your tears stream down your face like overflowing rivers. “It’s my fault.” You say, grabbing handfuls of your hair and tugging your face on your knees. 

Simon feels his own eyes get drenched as he can’t hold his own rivers by seeing you like this. He kneels down to the ground in front of you, pulling your hands from your hair, carefully stopping you from hurting yourself; feels excruciating to him to be able to do nothing.

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” He mutters, and you feel your body moving up. He holds you like you’re lightweight and takes his seat where you were sat at, now, holding you like a baby against his lap. You tuck your face on his chest now, the tears wetting his shirt, your painful voice coming out in low groans of pain, a painful cry of a mother who lost her children. The sad dead eyes of a father who watched this happening and couldn’t do nothing about it. The grief of parents, who didn’t have the chance of raising their children.

“Why? It hurts so much, so much.” You say beneath your cry, your eyes drenched, your face red from all of the crying. His hand is caressing the back of your head as he silently cries.

“I know. I know it hurts.” his voice is almost a blow of the wind, a whisper. “I can’t possibly know how it feels for your, my darling, but it feels bloody excruciating to me, everyday. I miss her all of the time.” He admits, his voice like the one of a kid who just lost its parents. “I miss talking to her, feeling her kick in. I miss her.” 

For the past few days, the two of you seemed to be speaking in foreign languages.

Couldn’t understand each other. Couldn’t comprehend. He was in pain, so were you. None of you could see each other, understand each other. The two of you needed space. The fights, the screaming, his complaints about your refusal to get help and your anger for not feeling understood.

Right now, you feel understood.

Who could understand a grieving mother more, than the kid’s grieving father?

You miss moments that didn’t exist. That didn’t even happen.

You shouldn’t have died without even getting the chance of living. Even if for a day.

“I’d give anything to have a day with her. A fucking day, just one.” You mutter in admission, as you hug in his arms and feel his warmth start to make you calmer by the second. Simon closes his eyes in acknowledgement.

“Me too, darling. And I don’t know what can we possibly do so this hurts any less, but I’m pretty sure we can make it easier if we’re together in this.” He affirms, his hand reaching for your face and washing away your tears. You look at his eyes for the very first time in weeks now. “We face it together.” 

The sky is painted in dark blue now as night approaches and the cold finally starts rising completely. You feel it hitting your skin, as Simon has you in his arms and you hum a low lullaby to the air. He runs his hand across your belly like he somehow tries to heal you from the void you’ve been feeling.

If she feels empty, then I’ll fill her with my own love.

You close your eyes and even though in this terribly uncomfortable position, you feel warm, and you feel cared. You rest. You fall asleep in a matter of seconds

None of you had awakened in time to see the cocoon hatch and the butterfly fly out. But for the past months, for the past years - when you were facing the task of emptying your baby’s room along with Simon, or when you were working - and even in other times, when you’d catch yourself thinking about her, you’d see a blue butterfly flying around you. 

Simon was too skeptical to believe, but even so, he’d always catch every butterfly he’d see, and bring it to you. “Look, who’s coming to visit!”

[cressidagrey]

Indelible Scars - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel knew pain. So did Galena.

Also known as: Azriel’s mate is a healer and the first time they meet, he nearly dies on her.

Warnings:

Discussion of whatever Mor and Az are, Fainting, Irresponsible use of Sleeping Potions, kinda depressing?

(thanks to @cafekitsune for the super pretty dividers!)

Neither of them got any more sleep that night. 

Not when Azriel’s fever seemed to climb with every fucking minute, when his teeth started to chatter, even when he was so warm that the heat seemed to nearly seep out of him…The House provided ice wrapped in tea towels and they tried to get him to drink some tea, too worried about all the fluids he seemed to sweat out…

It was absolutely horrifying. 

It was sometime in the morning, the sun having come up and Azriel was still breathing with every fucking breath punctuated by a wheeze. 

A quiet knock at the door and Cassian looked up to find Mor enter the room. 

“Hey,” she said, her gaze already turning to Azriel. 

“Good Morning,” he responded, rubbing a hand over his face, eyes burning…

“How is he? Em said he just fainted during training yesterday?” Mor asked. “Where are his always present companions?” she wondered as she stepped closer to the bed. 

“They disappeared,” Nesta said quietly from where she sat curled up on the armchair. Cassian had abandoned it to sit on the bed next to Azriel. The shadows hadn’t turned up again after they had gone to fetch Cassian. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by another round of Azriel’s coughing.

So bad that Cassian hauled him upright against his chest, as Azriel’s whole body seemingly shuddered with the force of these dry coughs. They sounded like they hurt. They sounded like they were torture. And there was no fucking thing that Cassian could do. He could slay monsters and had stood against armies…but he was powerless against this. 

And he hated it. 

So fucking much. 

“You’re alright. It’s alright, Az,” he promised his brother, a broad hand cupping Azriel’s head as he kept on coughing, as he kept on sounding like he couldn’t breathe, his heartbeat seemingly shuddering, until finally it stopped, leaving him, wheezing, dragging in breath after breath after breath. 

“Fuck,” Cassian cursed “I don’t like this. He should be better by now,” he uttered as he slowly, carefully, lowered Azriel back against the mattress. The Fever Reducer should have done it's job. But clearly it hadn't.  

“Madja?” Mor asked, her voice sounding tight, worried. 

“Said she would be coming over this morning,” Cassian answered, grounding his teeth. It didn’t sound like it was enough but he didn’t know what else to do. 

“Rhys said you were just being a mother hen,” Mor said quietly. 

“Look at him and tell me I am,” Cassian responded sharply. “Yesterday Rhys told me that Azriel will just get over himself…after Az mumbling on about how he deserves the pain and how we should just let him sleep, because he doesn’t want to wake up again,” he snapped.   

Mor stared at him after that outburst, then at Azriel…she stepped closer to the bed, touching Azriel’s forehead, hissing at the skin that was boiling to the touch. 

“I don’t think you are,” Mor agreed quietly. 

“Is there another healer we can ask to come?” Nesta asked sharply. 

“Madja is the one we always use,” Cassian responded. Always Madja. She had worked for Rhys’ family for…centuries. She had centuries of experience as well. There wasn’t anything that she hadn’t seen before… normally.

But Cassian wondered if this one time…if Madja had been wrong. If it was truly just a cold, because he couldn’t…he just couldn’t accept that. 

“I think a second opinion would be sound,” Mor agreed, for once agreeing with Nesta. “Has he been like this since yesterday?” Mor wondered and Cassian shook his head. 

“The wheezing is new, since two hours ago,” he answered. “Who do you want to ask?” he wondered. Did Mor know any other healer? Cassian wasn't about to drag an Illyrian Healer down from the steppes but...well, if that would help Azriel...he would. 

“There is another healer in Madja’s practice. Zoreen,” Mor answered. “I have met her before…we’ll just say that we want a second opinion, just for peace of mind. Do you want me to fetch them?”

Yes. 

“Please,” Cassian responded. 

Mor just nodded. “I’ll deal with Rhys,” she muttered darkly as she left the room. 

“Madja has a practice?” Nesta asked him and he scrubbed a hand through his hair once again. 

“Yeah…Madja’s whole job is not to come when Rhys calls because we have broken a bone or something. She has her own practice, other patients... And an apothecary where she gets her medication and potions from...” he explained, tiredly. 

Nesta nodded in understanding. Even now, years after being turned into a High Fae there were some things about this world that she didn’t know about. Mostly, because they had never outright come up. 

Mor returned with Madja and a second High Fae within the hour. Zoreen Bertram as she introduced herself…with blue eyes and short cropped blonde hair.

He didn’t know what Mor had told Madja, which made the older Fae not even blink twice about their request for a second opinion.

“The fever and the cough have gotten worse,”  he said instead as he moved to let the healers do their job. Nesta reached out for his hand as they stood out of the way, waiting for their diagnosis, waiting for something.

Hopefully good news. 

He listened to the quiet conversation between Madja and Zoreen, nearly like between a teacher and a pupil when that pupil clearly very well knew what they were doing.

“That’s not a cold,” Zoreen said suddenly, the tips of her fingers glowing as she held it over Azriel’s chest, surprise covering her voice. 

“You don’t think so?” Madja asked, sounding curious. 

“No,” Zoreen disagreed. “He’s otherwise healthy…To have him deteriorate this quickly…It's an infection…it has taken over his lungs.”

Cassian swallowed. That didn’t sound good. That didn't sound good at all. Nesta’s hand tightened around his own, Mor standing next to him, staring at the two healers. 

“What caused it?” Madja asked but Zoreen shook her head, staring at Azriel like he was an enigma. 

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice quiet, letting her hands fall to her side. “I…I don’t…”

“Can you fix it?” Cassian demanded into the quiet. If it was an infection, could they give Azriel something to fight against it? Another potion? Something? Could they do something against the pain he was clearly in? Against the way his brows furrowed, the way every breath was punctuated with a wheeze…

Zoreen turned to him, blue eyes dark. “Without knowing the cause?”  she asked him. “We can treat the symptoms. And pray for the best.”

“Is he going to survive this?” Mor asked, her voice shaky.

“We’ll give him… something to lower the fever, to help against the pain, we make him comfortable, we…” Madja started to count off but Cassian and Mor both realised that she hadn’t answered the fucking question. 

“What if we get another opinion,” Zoreen interrupted her suddenly. Madja turned towards her, knobbly hands wringing. 

“Who do you want to ask?” Madja asked, sounding curious. Zoreen pulled her shoulders back, her chin held high. 

“Galena.”

Cassian had no idea who Galena was. But Madja seemingly froze at the mention of that name. 

“Galena researches,” Madja said sharply.  “Galena doesn’t work with patients. For good reason. We have tried that. Galena also tends to forget the personal cost, you know that,” Madja said, crossing her arms. 

Zoreen mirrored her. “Her research was sound,” Zoreen bit out. 

“It was not the time for experiments!” Madja snapped. 

“Galena proved her point weeks later. She saved both Cosima and Orion.” He had no idea who either of these two faes were but Zoreen clearly was in favour of them calling in Galena. Regardless of what Madja thought. “We don’t experiment, he dies .” Zoreen said quietly. That sentence rippled through the room. 

Die. Death...and this time there was no option for Nesta to save Azriel's life in return for the powers she stole from the cauldron...He would be dead. Unable to return. Gone.

“We have no fucking clue what is wrong with him. Neither of us. It’s an infection and it’s not and it’s more. And I don’t know what to do other than to watch this male suffer. He doesn’t deserve that. Right now, he’s stable but we don’t know for how long he���ll stay that way. If it’s gonna be a few hours or a few days. So let’s ask Galena. And if she can’t help, then I don’t know what to do anymore,” Zoreen snapped. 

Madja softened. “Your choice,” she said quietly, looking at Cassian. “Zoreen is right. If anybody can figure out what is wrong with him…it will be Galena.”

He met Mor’s gaze, brown eyes misted with tears. 

“We’ll try anything,” he said calmly.

Whatever could help Az. 

Madja just nodded, mouth firmed up. 

“Where do I find her?” Cassian demanded. He was going to get her. Right now. 

“In the apothecary,” Zoreen answered immediately. “I’ll write you a note, so she’ll know…why to come.”

“Come on, we’ll find you some parchment,” he offered and Zoreen left Azriel’s room, trailing after him. 

“Do you really think this Galena can help?” he asked her after procuring pen and parchment for her and Zoreen scrawled down her note on it. 

“I think that neither Madja nor I know what is going on,” Zoreen answered, tucking blonde hair behind one delicately arched ear. “And that if there is anybody that could figure it out, then it’s Galena. She does pure research most of the time. But that doesn’t meant that she doesn’t have the magical power or theoretical knowledge she needs. She’s your best bet,” Zoreen promised him as she held out the note. He reached out but she didn’t let go. 

“General? Just…Don’t stare at her,” Zoreen said quietly. “Please.”  He blinked. That request was…unexpected. 

“She could have lime green hair and polka-dotted skin and I wouldn’t fucking care as long as she can help Azriel,” he told Zoreen, who let go of her note. 

She gave him a smile, but it seemed forced. “Keep that in mind, will you?” she requested. 

He did. He did keep that in mind. As he flew straight down to Velaris, landing in the middle of the street, ignoring the surprised gasps of fae and lesser faeries around him. 

Madja’s apothecary was near where Rhys’ townhouse was, tucked away in the ground level of a townhouse of its own. Cassian didn’t hesitate to open the door and walk right in. A male High Fae was manning the counter. 

“How can I help you?” he asked Cassian, looking up from doing…something, with a bundle of herbs. 

“I am searching for Galena,” he answered. The male nearly froze. 

“She isn’t here,” he blurted out. It was a lie. Cassian could easily ascertain that. 

And he really wasn’t in the mood for it. Not when he was fucking terrified of losing Azriel, of losing his brother. And the only person that stood between him and certain death was that illustrious Galena. 

“Zoreen is sending me. I am supposed to give her this,” Cassian gave back sharply, slapping down the note on the counter. “She’s here. Zoreen said so.”

The male blushed, high on his cheeks. “I…One moment,” he mumbled, taking the note and disappearing into the back. 

Cassian curled his hands into fists, and waited. A minute, two…three…he could hear a conversation, but not the words and then, the male came back out. 

“She’s coming,” he said quietly, for a moment looking like he wanted to say something else and then didn’t. “She just…she just needed to pack up some things…”

Well. 

Cassian had absolutely no idea what to expect from the fabled Galena. But it wasn’t what finally came out of the backroom. 

It was everything but that. 

He should have taken Zoreen’s request more seriously. 

“General,” her voice was quiet. She was small…tiny to be completely honest. Maybe a little bit bigger but Amren but not by much if at all. 

She was a slight thing, leaning heavily on a cane at her side. But that wasn’t what pulled his gaze. 

No…that was the scarf wrapped around her head, swathing her in black cloth…and her face. 

Cassian did his best to keep the horror of his own face. He was quite certain that he failed horribly.

He had seen scars. Missing limbs. Burns. Things like that. Of course, he had. That came with the territory of his job. But her face…

Her face looked like Azriel’s hands. 

Skin mottled and stretched taught like somebody had melted it down and slapped it back on, covering her whole face with a… wax-like mask , one corner of her mouth pulled into an always present grimace. No eyelashes, no eyebrows, just the brow ridges on her face, her nose seemingly missing a bit, but healed.

Grotesque scars that covered her whole face and her neck and the bit of her shoulders and arms he could see as well, and her hands that held that cane…

One eye, lost, milky and grey…the other one healthy…dark brown and beautiful. 

She just looked at him like she had fully expected his reaction. Or had even expected worse. Like he was going to laugh at her or make fun of her or flinch away. 

He swallowed. 

Now it made sense. Why Zoreen had told him to not stare at her. Why Madja had been so hesitant to reach out to her, why Madja had said that Galena didn’t normally work with patients. Of course not. He didn’t want to imagine what she got on a daily basis. The whispers behind her back, the stares…all of it. 

And still there she was, willing to come out and face ridicule because she wanted to help.  

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

There are a lot of poetic things we can say about crying: It's a temporary storm that cleans the air, and you need to wait out the rain so you can see the rainbow!

Or in less poetic words, crying can be good for you.

it's the opposite of bottling your feelings up. Openly expressing feelings with tears is an important emotional "safety valve" that helps you relieve the pressure from overwhelming emotions. After you released the pressure, it's easier to think clearly and make healthy decisions.

It can also serve as a helpful tool to communicate with the people around you. It enables you to ask for comfort or put up a boundary, even when you're too overwhelmed to use words. (in fact, crying was the very first communication tool you ever used after you were born! That's how important it is!).

It has physical health benefits. Crying helps to keep your eyes clean (by keeping them lubricated and flushing dust, smoke etc. out) and emotional tears may also flush stress hormones and other toxins out of your system!

So, the answer to "how do I stop crying?" is usually "you don't need to!". It's much better for you to allow yourself to cry when you feel the need to, to embrace tears as a healthy and normal way of expressing emotions, than to learn how to suppress them.

With that being said: what if you feel like you cry too much?

There isn't really the one agreed-upon definition of "too much" when it comes to crying. You may read statistics like "The average person cries 3 to 5 times a month" but that doesn't mean it's necessarily an issue if you cry more often. Different people have different emotional safety valves, some people's safety valves are triggered much more easily than others... and so some people just naturally cry more without it being a symptom of mentall illness or general dissatisfaction with their life!

Rather than hinging it on a specific number, it's more important to look at your subjective feeling. If you feel like your crying is negatively affecting your quality of life (for example: you cry yourself to sleep every night, you often find yourself crying for no appearant reason and/or you cry uncontrollably in situations where you really don't want to be crying (like at work), it's best to talk to a doctor. You may be struggling with a mental health issue, like depression, and you deserve professional help and support.

Last but not least, I want to give some practical advice:

Tears are mostly water. It's a good idea to rehydrate after a long cry! Drink some water or make yourself a comforting cup of tea.

There's some advice out there on how to stop your tears from flowing in public (tilting your chin up, opening your eyes wide, not blinking). I'm sure these tips work well for some people but in my experience it's usually much easier to just find an excuse and a silent space where you can cry (quietly) for a few minutes. Rather than staying in the stressful situation with the added pressure of not blinking, just say you need to go to the bathroom (or you need a glass of water, a smoke break, some fresh air, to take an urgent phone call etc.) and take a little cry break.

If you know you are a crier, it can be helpful to prepare yourself for the situation above. There's no shame in having a little "cry bag" with tissues, concealer, a fidget toy or anything else you may need to calm down and freshen up after your cry break in the work bathroom. (It may feel like people will stare at you for taking a bag into the bathroom but they'll most likely just assume it's hygiene products or headache pills)

Putting an ice cube in a washcloth and then gently putting it on your cheeks or around your eyes can be a great way to soothe your face after crying. If you don't have access to that, running cold water over your fingers and then gently pressing them on your skin can help just as well!

If your eyes hurt after crying, over-the-counter eye drops can help. But if you're a frequent crier, make sure to check the instructions if they're safe to be used on a regular basis! (And keep in mind that crying should not lead to long-lasting eye pain. If it does, it may show an underlying eye issue, such as dry eyes or allergies, and you should see a doctor!)

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[whyoneartheven]

What head canons do you have for the LU boys? (Yes, this is a request for you to ramble about them)

aaaahhh hello! Thanks for asking, but wow, goodness me

this will take some thinking XD

umm

ok a lot of these are a lil generic or just other people’s ideas I kinda adopted but here goes!

also I didn’t expect it when I started but this got long…

for Legend, I really like the idea of him drinking tea and still having an apple orchard. And also having honey bees! (These aren’t mine originally lol) Also I feel like post LU (this ofc may change depending on the ending) he fell into depression a little bit before digging himself out with Ravio and Zelda’s help… he cut his hair during this time. idk I just feel like that would happen. I like the idea of him having a good singing voice. (merperson stuff but also even beforehand. He definitely sang lovely duets with Marin once she taught him how) Also I feel like he’s one of those people that’s always cold! So he secretly likes to cuddle :)

with Wild, I feel like… he definitely doesn’t use recipes! This is based off how I am in his game and irl, as I just throw things together and never go back to see how I made things before, but also I feel like it just fits his personality! I think it would be hilarious if he named his horses at first after anything that had an impact on him so like, one horse is named Zelda and another is Stir Fry. Or smth XDDD Also based on my experiences in game (to an extent), I feel like he doesn’t actually care about legitimately looking fashionable… it’s more that he likes wearing things that looks crazy XD

on to Hyrule! Ok this isn’t as much a headcanon as a ship but I really ship him and Aurora; I feel like they’d be absolutely adorable together but he’s really private about it! I like to think Hyrule can sew? And I think he’d love to run around barefoot on fresh grass! And just, be in love with nature in general! And maybe he doesn’t have an eye for color; he can’t tell if colors clash or actually match. Also is it just me or does he feel like out of the entire chain he could easily be a Studio Ghibli protagonist? Just me? Idk lol

Time! I like the idea of Time and Malon having a running joke that the other is color blind, and the chain eventually picks it up! And then Time keeps mistaking one color for another (on purpose or not? We’ll never know), and every time the others go wild XD (this may or may not be based on a joke my parents have irl hehe). When Time first met Malon he was very very lactose intolerant. And drank it anyway, of course! also I feel like Time really likes flowers? Idk why! And finally, if Time was in the modern world he’d be the guy who’d be eating food months to years past the expiration date…

Four, my beloved! Umm this is kinda a design idea more than anything but I like the idea of him growing his hair out and wearing it in a ponytail post LU! (provided he doesn’t die…) I don’t think of him as having voices in his head or being a system but I still like the idea of him talking to himself sometimes XD! Also this is just something canon I don’t see talked abt a lot but I love he and Twi’s relationship sm! Four totally has RBF and definitely stares at people accidentally when he’s thinking… also I saw a crack fic somewhere where Four was already married to Dot and had children and the chain were shocked; it was hilarious, and while I don’t think he would actually have kids yet, I think it’d be hilarious if he and his Zelda are already quite far along in their relationship (as I ship them lol)

the man, the myth, the legend, WIND, is next! This man has Opinions. I feel like he’s the kind of person so have opinions on things he’s only heard of two seconds before, like automatically deciding he will like a food or deciding the other way round. (And yeahhhh I’m basing him on my brother lol) I’m definitely not the one to come up with this but Wind is probably the one with the best (and most opinionated) fashion sense (most of the others are just hopeless in varying degrees so it isn’t hard)! Maybe older him bonded with young Wars in the War of Eras over this (bc I love the idea of older wind being there), Idk XD! Also he definitely braids Aryll’s hair and is generally very responsible (I mean he’s a big brother he’s gotta be XD); he starts off almost treating LU as a bit of a vacation! Nothing will go wrong, his family is safe, and he gets new friends :D

Warriors, the wonderful man, is next! I feel like he’s very nostalgic and a little sappy. Like, just in general. He likes to look back on his happy memories! Also (once again not my idea) but I like the idea of Warriors growing up either orphaned or really poor, and living in the less palatable portion of Castle Town. (Therefore he played pickup soccer as a kid; he just feels like he would lol) I definitely ship him and his Zelda (ok tbh I ship ALL the Links with their Zeldas lol). I feel like at the point of LU they’ve talked abt it but Warriors isn’t ready (thanks to Cia and maybe just all the barriers in his mind about being inferior to her or smth) Also, give this man the craziest accent you can find and I am here for it; whoever first came up with that is a genius. Ok yeah you can probably tell I love Warriors angst

XD Sky!!! My bestieeee!! If Sky was in modern times he’d be one of those people who gets sleepy when they drink coffee, fs! He is definitely the artistic one, and maybe during LU he discovers a bunch of mediums besides woodworking that he loves (and maybe he makes a bunch of art for Sun, who knows!) This next one is based off @margindoodles2407’s Forger from her loz AU but the idea that his parents died in a house fire and he lived with Gaepora and Zelda until he was older is so cool to me! And bc of this I feel like he’d really hate being around fire (to the point of panic attacks? Maybe, maybe not). Finally, hopeless bird lover Sky is a beautiful thing. As a bird watcher myself, I cannot blame him.

Last but not least is Twilight!! This guy totally holds conversations with animals all the time and it freaks people out (they can never tell if he actually understands them)! Twi definitely has a lot of respect for kids too and talks to them like they’re adults (by using the same vocabulary and tone, not by talking about things that aren’t good for kids to hear XD) and I feel like he would write painfully cheesy love poems? Twi definitely can’t cook but I feel l Ike he also cares the most about food? Idk? ALSO LET THIS MAN QUILT. IDK I THINK HE’D BE TERRIBLE AT IT BUT STILL TRY AND IT WOULD BE FUNNY

ok, and that’s it!!! Wow, that was a lot…

and I could definitely come up with more lol

[marilynthornhilllover]

When you call my name. do you think I'll come running? { chapter 7}

+ If i only could I'd make a deal with God I'd get him to swap our places.

Alcina dimitrescu x fem!Reader

Warning: pre-grief, depression, slight sadness, extreme rage, LOTS of angst, extreme plot twist, talk of suicide, slight fluff. { read chapter 6 here }

A/n: I just wanted to start off by saying thank you to the people who showed utmost appreciation to this series and interest of it continuing! I never actually thought this series would hit it off! And it warms my heart to know so many of you are interested and it has captured the attention of your heart! Sorry for the long wait in chapter update! I know it's been almost five months since i last posted CH. 6 and I sincerely apologize! :). This is a bit lengthy so I had to split it into two parts so, chapter 8 will be a bit short!! Love you guys enjoy!!.

Today no one spoke..... no one moved.... no one even dared to blink or breathe too hard. If you were ever to be caught dead in the sight of Lady Dimitrescu who knows what she might do to you..... Perhaps Rip you in half?, shred you to pieces?, pull your throat out?..... well no one wanted to be a human experiment, therefore everyone kept their distance away from the lady and her personal space. Her rage is not one to be tested and neither is her faith. She's like a lion, sly in the shadows but dangerous in light, she couldn't be trusted then and certainly not now. Ever since you left she's been acting as a fish out of water.

She never left her office or the castle itself and when she did, no one could be able to point out her emotions. She'd always dress in her usual formal black dresses and Veil hats that covered three quarters of her face. Her elegant walk and perfectly fitted gloves, only God knew what monster hid behind the poker face of 'Countess Dimitrescu' .

The entire castle was silent - completely silent. You could hear a pin drop. Make noise and your dead, make one slip up and show weakness or incompetence and your also dead, no one wanted to be alive in the same place where " Countess Alcina Dimitrescu " also lived. The villagers who'd usually bring fresh food and fruits to the castle heard of the matter and started delivering their pastries at the back door, too terrified of the wrath she held for anyone who may know what she's going through or even the smallest detail of your whereabouts.

It was a mad house at castle dimitrescu, maids started whispering rumors and stories of how the lady was going completely mad and turning into some sort of witch or dragon - if that's even possible, at night. Some say she flys over the village howling and puffing looking for her.... lost one.... but that's not true..... right?.....

It was 10:05 am, the lady drinks tea at 10:00 am, the lady's tea is five minutes late.... why because the poor little tiny girl who's job is to bring the raven hair goddess tea is scared out of her mind to so much as to stand infront of her door, she's done this a million times, so what's holding her back now? Maybe the fact that no one knows where her fate might lie after the woman opens the door, perhaps only mother miranda will know.... but she's a topic for another time.....

The girl took slow strides walking up to the lady's door as the tray that laid in her hand containing the lady's tea shook vigorously as a result of her nervous system failing her, cold sweat dripped from her forehead as her lips quivered and shook.

One

Two

Three

Knock, knock

Her shaking palms returned to her side as she sighed a breath of pure fright. For two long , minutes there was complete silence, no movement, no breathing, no sign of other recreations, nothing, absolutely nothing. And just as she was about to leave, hoping the lady thought her ears deceived her, there were loud thudding foot steps. No exaggeration used, the tall woman's footsteps were loud and massive. They spoke of frustration and pure rage. The young girl then again started struggling to breathe.

As the footsteps got louder and closer she managed to bow her head just in time when the lady opened the door. Suddenly the girl was taken back when an impossibly human surviving air hit her skin. The air was cold and thick, she could easily tell that the lady in fact hadn't left her room in a while and there was no ventilation happening in there. It felt as if someone had truly died, as if all life was lost, and the world had truly ended and all love was forgotten.

" yes, what is it, can't you see I'm busy?!" her voice was cold, brutal and hoarse, it showed no sign of life, love or even integrity , instead she sounded bitter and cold as, if she was the first person to ever be born on earth and everyone else were just a burden or her just her unwanted ornaments.

" f- forgive m- me my lady i-if I'm wrong but- you have wine with your b- breakfast, and tea in t- the mid afternoon, m- my lady" she wasn't wrong... in fact she's one hundred percent correct, but when your life is at stake you try to minimize your talking and smart mouthing - simply being correct. Again there was a long pause of utter silence. The girl couldn't even hear the lady breathe above her , it was as if she wasn't there at all, if she wasn't quite literally staring at her heels she would have believed she had returned inside.

Besides from that she couldn't even hear herself breathe, she minimized her heart beat and lungs respiration so low that it felt as if she was dying, her chest started to burn, it was as if she wasn't breathing at all. The girl heard a sigh of frustration before a loud slam of the door infront of her.

Well.... it's better than having your throat ripped out and being made into fine Romanian wine then being sold to the market.

Alcina sniffed walking back towards her desk. she held onto the rim of it for emotional support. She bit her lip as it quivered, while fighting back tears. Your voice rang through her mind, you were like a ghost, invisible with high amount of impact but held powerful memories. Alcina couldn't function or focus the way she should be. You were the only thing she thought about, the only person she ever truly loved or cared about besides her daughters. And to have you pulled out of her life by the hands of the person she hated so greatly made her feel as an failure even more.

It ate away at her heart to know that if you had died - as miranda said you did, that means that you spent the last few minutes of your life probably cold and afraid, thinking that it was her fault. But regardless, what ate her up the most was the fact that you died with holding her hand, without her being by your side until you took your last breathe. It wasn't fair, and it was her fault. It is her fault. After all she is a monster.

' Monster '

' Your a monster '

' No one loves you '

' Your the reason she's d- '

" SHUT UP" alcina picked up her vanity and threw it across the room with great power, breaking it in half and slightly cracking the floor of her office. That's definitely gonna need fixing.... which means someone will have to visit the castle. She didn't want any guests or company, not because of the rumors, or the uneasiness you felt as soon as you stepped foot into the palace, no alcina was bigger than that, what she wasn't bigger than was herself.

Not her literally self, the one she saw when she looked into the mirror, the one she felt 24/7 weighing down her shoulders, the one she heard most of the time.....her entire life, the one she felt deeply inside waiting to be unleashed, to be able to set the world ablaze and get rid of all human beings. The one she was called...... a monster..... this part of her..... this was the part she wasn't bigger than.

No matter how much she tried, no matter how much she fought..... it ate her up inside..... her inner soul was bruised, scared, busted, call it what you want, but the truth was she fought to keep the outside going strong and tall. While the fire was running low she fought to keep herself elegant and up right. Good Posture, perfect teeth, phenomenal business, respected name. All of it was just a show that people got to tell. What people failed to realize was that although Alcina may be dead on the inside..... she's still human.....

She still loved... she's still cared, for God's sake. This was the part of her she just couldn't get rid of. The weight of it all soon caught up to her and it and not light at all.

She missed you.... so so much, beyond explanation.... beyond belief.... she loved you, every part, your smile, your hair, the way you'd do a little nose scrunch when she tackled you onto the bed, your laugher, your dramatic side eyes when she said something that didn't quite suit your style. She cared for you.... so damn much too. Cared if you ate, if you slept, if you were happy.... and now you were gone.... erased from her memories, from her life.

She longed for you....

You stired as you slowly opened your eyes to see daylight. You blinked rapidly trying to clear your eyes and refocus your vision. After a while of low steady breathing you were finally able to open your eyes completely and take hold of your surroundings. The room was small, it reminded you of the vintage times. It was raged with cigarette smoke and burning medicine plants - too much burning medicine plants. The room wasn't clean but it also wasn't the tidest.

There was a small bed on which you laid on and another which was empty, there was another room connected to the room that you were in that had a beaded curtain handing before the entrance. From the view that you were sitting you could see an old woman slowly moving her hips side to side as she hummed softly to a playing jazz music that your ears couldn't yet pick up. You coughed as you tried to get up slowly, you instantly felt excruciating pain all over your body.

You fell back sobbing as your hands felt utterly weak. You heard small foot steps before seeing a familiar face. It was Carmen. Your mom's old yoga and herb cooking buddy. A small warm smile was plasted on her face as she sat on the stool infront of you.

" Easy now child, you don't want to make this wound worst" she spoke, her voice cracky and faint. She was dressed in a light pink night gown and a soft brown head band with her hair braided in a fish braid. She gently dipped a wash cloth in a bowl of green like liquid before gently pressing it to your wound that was located on your hip. You whimpered softly at the slight stinking sensation before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. After multiple wips of her cleaning the wound she placed a badge on it.

" thank you carmen" you mumbled, your voice also being raspy from using for the fisrt time since God knows when. The elder woman smile before waving you off with her hand. She got up and and went back into the kitchen.

" how did I end up here?" You asked her before standing since you felt a bit more better now. You heard her chuckle before hearing some pans clack together.

" I found you laying in the forest the other day when I went out to pick berries, you were all cut up and bruised, could have swore you were a zombie or perhaps even a lycan" she laughed before emerging from the kitchen and into another room. You Curiously followed her just to find four small but widthful shelves of books.

She bent down groaning slightly before taking out some books and dusting them off and replacing them, continuing the step for others.

" I hoped you'd wake up soon, when I found you, you had only a faint pulse that lasted every twelve seconds, you were basically half dead. Anyway I need to go to the market, i'm sure you can fend for yourself, you did just fine, God knows how you ended up 36 miles out into the woods" you froze..... did she just say 36 miles..... into the woods....

" am I in south Romanian?!" You asked a bit too loudly. Carmen looked up at you with raised eyebrows.

" yes.... did you forget you and your mother use to hop the river to come visit me for my birthday? Silly girl, yes south Romanian, mother Miranda's old village, the one she used to rule over? Yes my dear" she moved towards the other selve and began packing.

" Carmen! Do you heard how crazy this sounds?! I live in north Romania, you know... where castle dimitrescu is?! " again your voice was on the raise and she didn't quite like it, but you didn't really care either. She sighed before getting up, she facial expression and body language completely changed into a colder one.

" have a seat child" you compiled before she sat infront if you with a very serious expression. She sighed before placing her hands down onto your thighs.

" your mother died y/n...." your eyes zoned and you swore you could hear your eyes ring as you heard your heart beat slow down. Carmen squeezed your thighs before continuing.

" it's a hard pill to swallow but you better do, my condolences my daughter" she said doing the sign of the cross. Your mother meant alot to you, she wasn't really a huge part of your life, you didn't even remember much of her. You remember being kidnapped from your house one night by mother miranda and seeing the terror on her face before you passed out, and seeing her in a dream once. You've lived in an orphanage for your entire life and that night was the first time that you got back your life to her.

That didn't meant you wouldn't miss her.... you just couldn't find a reason to miss her.... you barely even knew her to begin with.....

" you know that lady people said your in love with?.... you know.... tall, big vampire mommy lady with wings" you gaved her a sarcastic fake laugh before looking at her dead serious. She smirked before continuing.

" there was a rumor that she killed your mother....." you tilted your head to the right, trying to comprehend the information you just received. You shook your head before nervously laughing.

" No that's not true.... it was probably miranda but people are to scared to say that so they blame alcina, they always do that, trust me, miranda was the last person my mom saw so-" Carmen cut you off by shaking her head and tsking.

" No child..... your mother was killed six months ago... and if I'm not mistaken you were kidnapped and forced to work for this ' Alcina' almost two years ago.... look they said it was big boobs vampire lady, bird lady and some lady who's obsessed with carrying her doll everywhere" you were significantly frozened between reality and what carmen was telling you now - which would obviously be a lie.

No one is saying carmen is a lier but sometimes elderly people loss their minds as time goes by - especially is they love to gossip..... anway.... your mom is dead and you felt nothing, you don't even think you miss alcina, now that your away you feel.... nothing..... you don't miss her, part of you don't even seem to care if she's doing ok, it's as if you never loved her.... maybe your body is still in shook, carmen did say that you had been out for two days straight, maybe your sleep dprived and can't think straight or maybe........ no let's not go there.

Carmen could clearly see that you didn't believe her, getting her she sighed as she began to grab her belongs, shoes, shopping bags, bud spray and pepper spray.

" look child believe what you want, don't go cra cra over your mom too much, wishing on things that just weren't possible, i'm off, when I'm back maybe we can make cinnamon rolls and some soup to get you better" she smiled softly at you before leaving a small peck on your forehead then leaving. You decide that your going back to castle dimitrescu, you needed answers...... you demanded them..... and even if it's the last human thing that alcina is capable of doing she will give them to you.

You could feel it in your heart that you were drifting away from alcina..... that spark that you once felt.... that burning passion.... that burning love.... gone....

You didn't have any belongs at Carmen's but you walked with some of her stuff, like water, little protein bars, bud spray and a knife. You left her a note thanking her for her utmost compassion and kindness upon you before starting your very very long journey....

TAG LIST : @willalovexx @ilovehugslikealotalot @milkiedimitrescu @willowshadenox @enchantressb @moisblofish, @nclgsticore @vampire-s61914 @snkskyler15 @milkkyshakeez @luisa323 . If you wish to be apart of the tag list for the next up coming chapters please comment below :) <3

[roznnreads]

Chosen not Fated Chapter 5

Eris x Fem!Reader

Tags: marriage of convenience, rhysand slander, depression, suicidal ideation, slow burn, fake dating

Summary: Tired of a life in the shadow among the inner circle, Rhysand’s younger sister decides to take her life into her own hands and makes a desperate grab for power.

Chapter Summary: Autumn Court courting traditions, and the Eris's hounds

a/n: I am running out of steam with this fic, I'm getting tired from it so I might take a break from writing for a while

last part, next part

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

2 days later

I am sitting in my chambers, on the balcony drinking my tea, the night was light enough for me to know it was day everywhere else. The stars in the sky sparkled in the night, dazzling stars waiting to be noticed by someone, to be pointed out by a little child or a couple saying look, look how pretty that star is. Stars remind me that I am not alone, there is always someone looking down at me, I hope he is looking down on me. I hope he understands what I am doing, that I am not betraying him. I am not disloyal, not untrustworthy. 

In my heart I know he understands, He knew me, he knew that I didn’t belong in the Night Court, I wanted him to run away with me, to escape the palace life, not many people would miss the sister of the High Lord, one who had a Bride and heir, I am not needed here. 

A soft blow of air whips at my hair, I look up from my tea to see Eris winnowing in. 

“Dear” he started

“What are you doing here? If my brother sees you” I interrupted, I was panicking, he was in my chambers and if anyone was to walk in they would he Eris in there close to me, Eris would be killed, and I’d have to start all over again. 

“Oh don’t worry about that, I’m here to take you to Autumn” he said easily

“Are you crazy that will start a war” I said, this man is going to give me a heart attack

“Only for a moment, I am not kidnapping you, it is simply a date, this is what you wanted, a proper courting” he said puffing his chest out

“Make it quick” I say

“Oh I do nothing quick, but don’t you worry you’ll be back before anyone notices” he said

“Then let's get going,” I reach out my hand, touching his waist, looking in his eyes as the world shifts around me.

~

I haven’t often left Velaris, the last time was when I was under the mountain. Even before that I left sparingly, for the High Lord Summet in Summer, or some ball to show a united front. But I had never been to Autumn. I’ve heard stories from the Inner Circle, it is meant to smell of death, a rotting court of the near dead, a transitional court that is full of tricksters and deceit. I’ve found that every court is full of deceit, no one is only truthful, anyone can lie.

When we finished winnowing, the warmth warms my skin, it perforated it spreading through my body in a way I never could have known. It isn’t the sticky blistering of heat from Summer, but like a warm day with a blistering wind keeping you cool, but never cold. Looking around from where I just arrived, We are in a garden, surrounded by Azaleas, Sunflowers, Roses and Petunias, the growth of trees surrounds the garden, they grow high like giants, looking down upon me and Eris, watching us, judging us like a grandmother might a child.

“Lost in thought?” He said startling me

“It’s beautiful,” I pondered

“Yes, it is,” he said. I look back at him but he is looking at me already. 

“What have you brought me here for,” I said

“A proper courting in Autumn court fashion requires this” he said, pulling out a necklace, it is beautiful, it is shaped like a burst of fire moving around the necklace, the gems simmer in the light, it look like it’s moving. Eris moves behind me leaning in close.

“May I?” he said. I move my hair out of his way, he moves the necklace around my neck, using heat from his hands to melt and reform the necklace to connect permanently to me.

“Is there some hidden significance?” I ask

“Every courting necklace is purely individual to the pair, it is meant to be worn until the wedding ceremony is complete, or the courting is broken off, which rarely ever happens. It shows the longevity and how committed we are to be together” I turn to face him, our bodies close together I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, his hands moved to running comforting circles on my arms. 

“Your serious about this, aren’t you” I joke “It’s only been two days”

“Let’s say I was prepared,” Eris said with a smile. I smile back at him. I hear a bark from in the distance, I look for the the source and see a pack of four foxhounds, bounding towards Eris, 

“Hey girls”, he said, falling to his knees being pounced by the dogs, accepting the kisses the dogs give him

“So these are yours” I say laughing at the sight of my future husband, kneeling on the ground getting bound upon 

“They’ll be your once we get married officially” he said looking up at me 

I kneel next to him, not worrying about the dress I am wearing reaching my hand out carefully at the closest hound, he sniffs my hand carefully before giving it a lick and nudging my hand getting closer before he jumps at me causing my balance to tip and I am in a heap on the floor the dogs licking my face.

“Ok, Ok, girls, off you go” he said, whistling with his fingers near his mouth, the dogs run off bounding together barking and playing together

“I think it is best that I head back now” I say, composing myself, standing uneasily.

“Are you ready for that?” he said his fingers ghosting the necklace welded to my neck

“I have to be, I’ll be fine” I say “there is nothing they can do about it now” I say reassuringly, bringing my hand to hold his near my neck. Letting go I give one last smile before winnowing back to the Night Court

~

“Your Compromised” was the first thing that Rhys said to me as I winnowed in from the Autumn Court Gardens, His eyes garling at my neck. 

“Is that so” I retort

“Do you know what that means, who are you married to now” He said 

“I am not married, yet, and the who is Eris, he loves me” I say with determination in my voice “Don’t be naive, Eris doesn’t love you he is attached at the most. And that necklace is a promise of marriage, In autumn women don’t just reject a courting once they are entered in one, the man has to, and if Eris gave you this he intends to marry you” He said dripping with malice. 

“And what if I want to marry him” I say “Why would you want that” He exacerbate

“He will treat me well, I can make my own choice of who to marry, I would have thought that marrying the Heir to a Court would have made you proud”. I say close to tears, I really don’t want to cry, to be emotional right now, It's not like I am really in love with him, and Rhysand can’t stop the engagement if Autumn wants a bride.

“He’s using you,” he said

“Like your not, or anyone who I align myself with is going to use for political power, I’ve accepted that” I say

“And what of your mate” He yelled

“He is dead, there is nothing to do about it, He would want me to move on, I know I will never love someone like I loved him, but I can’t be wallowing in self imposed sadness, I believe that a life with Eris will make me happy, why can’t you be happy for me” I yell back.

“I’m trying to protect you” he said desperately 

“Then let me do this” I plea, I reach out to him, taking his hands and bringing it close to my chest, I don’t like begging, but he needs to know I am willing in this arrangement, that I want this, I know what he is thinking, that I will regret this engagement, that it won’t be suited for me, just like Feyre was with her wedding, it isn’t much different in his head, a woman who is being wed to a Lord that is not her mate feeling forced to be married out of obligation not love. I need him to see it is not an obligation, I need him to see that I am in love, I am not but he needs to believe that, for his own peace of mind. 

[tackyink]

So! Thanks so much @sanzos for asking, I would never pass up an opportunity to bring a snippet of my daily idiocy to your dashboards.

There's a cafeteria where I work. A cafeteria where it's universally acknowledged (except by the owner, maybe?) that its coffee tastes like ass. The pastries and sandwiches are good, but for months I've been hearing the coffee is bad bad. When the IT guys and the Marketing girls to go a nearby coffee shop they tell me "hey, we're going to the coffee shop, do you want a good coffee?" Nobody likes it.

Thing is, I'm a tea person. The first day I got there, I asked for tea. It was disgusting. The next day I asked for a different one. It was worse. Undrinkable levels of bad, which was very weird because the brand of their tea bags is fairly good. I did not understand what was happening, nor did I care to because I was busy enough trying to adjust to the new job. I just drank water all day every day.

Weeks went by, summer heat kicked in, and I have a ten minute walk uphill every morning to my workplace, so one day I asked for an iced coffee. Because the point of iced coffee is not to get good coffee, but something watery brown and cold to sip on and cool down, this became my new normal. I tried not to think about what I'd do when the heat relented, but this week I've had to face the music at last.

An important factor in this story is that I never sweeten tea or coffee.

One of the last days I asked for an iced coffee in the morning, my supervisor brought me a latte unprompted. He's very nice. I don't like lattes, but I decided to drink it anyway because I wanted to be nice too. Now, admitedly, the last time I drank one I was maybe 18 and it destroyed my GI tract for half a day, and last year I took a sip from one wrong order, so when I drank some of that one and I thought the taste was off, I thought maybe it was just me. I just don't know how lattes taste. I would have assumed that they didn't have a slightly rancid, cured cheese aftertaste, but who am I to judge the tastebuds of milk drinkers.

I lasted three sips before I snuck to the toilet to throw it away. I also had a fizzy sensation in my stomach for an hour because that's what lattes do to the body that's been thrust upon me in this lifetime.

Another day went by, and I decided to try the chai latte the cafeteria lady had recommended me. It tasted good, though it was extremely sweet, and I'd asked for oat milk, which made it sweeter. I looked up the brand they were using and the composition of the mix, and found out it's mostly sugar with added chai aroma (???!?!!!?) and brown coloring and tea extract instead of tea (WHY). Not something I wanted to drink every day.

I bit the bullet this Tuesday at last, figured that maybe they'd just had a bad tea day a few months ago and ordered one.

It was vomit-inducing disgusting. My brain couldn't stop torturing me with the taste for the remainder of the day. It was extremely bitter, without any distinctive tea flavor, and somehow salty. It went down the toilet too.

Okay, I thought, they've clearly burned the tea. They pour boiling water and toss the tea bag in right away. Next day I'll try again, ask that they give me the teabag to go so I could wait for the water to cool down a bit.

The second morning arrives and I wait. I think about sipping on the plain hot water just in case, but I get distracted, promptly forget about it and put the tea bag inside. That's fine. I take a sip.

It's not bitter anymore! Win! They were burning the tea!

Unfortunately, it was still salty with an undescribable flavor of depression room and unwashed pile of clothes.

At this point, I'm 2.30 euros in and sunk cost fallacy, well, sinks in. I'm inordinately invested in this. Why are people at this workplace living like this? How the fuck is this possible. I refuse to accept this. Is the water funky? The drinking fountains are fine. The water cannot be contaminated, there are chemistry labs here, they would've noticed if something was wrong with the water supply. Dad, former bartender, suggests that the coffee machine may not have been properly cleaned. After all, they use salt to descale it. That could explain the cheesy latte.

Today was the third day, and I came in with a plan and my own tea bag from home. The idea was to ask for tea in the same way as the day before, take the tea from the cafeteria home, and use my own tea there with their water. This way I could find out where the problem was.

But also, today I remembered to take a sip after letting the water cool down a bit.

IT WAS FUCKING RANCID.

Guys, I could smell it before I drank it. It was slightly salty and had a rank taste, like something way past expiry date. Either our water supply is fucked, or the coffee machine is. Just to complete the experiment, I sacrifice my tea bag to make a potion of nope that, you guessed it, went down the toilet as well.

I had told my supervisor about my predicament the previous days, and today I told him that I had in fact confirmed that the problem was the water, most likely a coffee machine with bad filters. He said he'd try to find a way to delicately rely it to the owner of the cafeteria.

At noon he drops by my desk, thoughtful, with a latte in hand. He says that now that I've told him, he realizes that that was it. That there's an odd aftertaste to the coffee, but since he adds milk and sweetener to it, he never minded it much, and most people do the same. Since I take everything plain, I was hit with the full brunt of it from the first day. He then says that everybody had assumed that the coffee was bad quality, but nobody had thought about water being the issue. Now I've cursed him with Knowledge that God never intended for humans to have, and as Adam did before him, he now has to live with the consequences of acts that he didn't even set in motion. As an unrelated aside, I was born on the year of the Snake. Anyway.

He seems resolute to look into it (it's part of his job, technically). On my part, I now feel compelled to investigate the water quality of the different areas of the campus, because the cafeteria is in a sort of middle ground and as unlikely as it is, it could be that one of the buildings has nasty water and it's not the coffee machine's fault.

So, to sum up my last three days:

PS: The brand that makes the chai mix also makes a matcha one. It's 80% sugar and 20% tea. It sounds awful, so next Monday I'm going to get a matcha latte for shits and giggles.

PSS: I brought the cafeteria tea bag home and brewed a cup with it. As I said, it's a pretty decent brand, much better than what I have at home, so I was happy. Then I took a sip. It tasted nothing like it's supposed to. It barely had any taste at all, in fact. It was also permeated by a faint odor of peppermint that went down my throat and came back up to my nose every time I took a gulp. What. the. fuck.

[thestormthatrises]

Y'all, you ever just get assaulted by the idea of how devasting it would be for the rest of the world if SQH actually took care of himself, three meals a day and 8 hours of sleep sorta deal? How minds would be blown?

Because like, I have this headcanon that every peak lord has a different kind of beauty, yeah? Like SQQ has this very cold, ethereal beauty. And LQG has this very sharp, intimidating beauty. YQY has this very warm, confident beauty, beautiful big bro beauty. WQW has this rugged and debonair sort of beauty and so on and so forth.

And SQH, underneath all of the stress and sleepless nights, is the most adorable, endearing, cute person in the world. He's that cute that makes people go feral, like honest to God cute aggression.

So can you guys imagine like, let's say that SQH has a minor but very acute qi deviation because of how hard he works, yeah? It's not SJ level but enough for MQF to put his foot down and whisk his shixiong away to his peak and very politely forcing him to be taken care of So SQH can't do anything but rest, eat well, take some sun for that good vitamin d for his depression and chill.

(MQF has some close calls with SQH, of course. Some disciples that need their Shizun back. Some demons that don't understand they can't just teleport in and Try to steal his shixiong away. But because MQF has had plenty of training with SQQ and LBH, he perseveres)

Queue a couple of weeks later and SQH is getting some weird ass looks and doesn't understand why! Is there something on his face? He looks at his reflection more often His cheeks are rounder and pinkish but they look clean enough. Was it because he put on weight? His clothes aren't hanging off of him anymore... But MQF said it was a good thing.

Was it his hair? He thought it looked good. With nothing to do for all those weeks, he had thought That he had managed the bird's nest he had been saddled with. MQF and his head disciple had said it looked nice... Were they lying?

Look as he might, he can't find stuff that's too wrong with his face. So why are people staring at him like that?

....

And not just staring. They're acting weird too!

Like! Like! He went to talk to LQG about his peak going over the budget and the man looked like he would kill him. And then! When he finally managed to get his shidi to agree in keeping the costs down, he smiled, thankfully And LQG punched the table between them, breaking it in half! Like WTF, bro!

He thought they were cool now, after SQQ married Bīnghé!

Guess he was wrong...

Speaking of his son! He was weird too!

SQH'S body had decided to betray him after so many years. Just because he had shown weakness.

He couldn't go three hours without food anymore. Real food too! His adored melon seeds did nothing for the growling beast in his stomach.

Such a traitor! Didn't his body know he had a job to do? Aiya!

So imagine his embarrassment! His shame! When waiting for a weird acting Cucumber bro, his stomach growled noisely near LBH! WTF!

SQH looked down, apologetic, cheeks red with shame, and askes to be forgiven by Junshang.

The look LBH gave him was so deadly that he thought his days were numbered. But when Airplane thought LBH was going to give him the final strike, he merely got up and left his Shishu to wait alone.

Normal right?!

But then! When he was talking to SQQ, who was a lot More bitchy than usual, LBH brought snacks for his beloved. Usual, right?! NO!

For the first time in his life, LBH placed some of the plates in front of SQH! And two cups for the same pot of tea! Bīnghé usually made two pots of tea for them, one with the really good stuff for SQQ and one so and so for SQH!

And people might think he was insane! I mean, maybe the table was small, right? He had to place the snacks for Shizun near the other peak lord because there was no room but NO! There was so much room!

And to top it all off, after. While of just drinking tea, LBH asked why wasn't he eating??? WTF!!

He looked helplessly to SQQ but the traitor just arched a brow at him. Was this some sort of game? Was the food poison??

"Eat, shidi"

SQH had lived a... Life, right?

It wasn't the best life but it had been a life. Who knew it would end like this?

SQH ate the food. It was delicious. The soft exterior of the bun melted in his mouth giving way to the savory meat inside. It was the best food he ever had. It was heaven.

Ok.

He could die for this.

But as he happily ate, he must've done something! Because SQQ struck his head with the guard of his fan, waking him up from his bliss.

"What was that for?" He asked, heartbroken.

But Cucumber didn't answer. He merely grumbled about his stupid face and to just eat and shut up.

Weird, right??

And then he had been getting these-- things! They looked like gifts from his martial siblings but-- but that did not make any sense! They never, ever given him anything but work.

And at first he thought they were normal, yeah? He thought, for example, when WQW had given him a Very beautiful and blessed dagger that he wanted more of the ore that made it and told him he would see what he could do. When he managed to find the budget for it and purchase the ore,his shixiong had the nerve to ask him why he bought it!

SQH showed him the dagger and WQW had the gall to laugh at him and told him to keep it. Like it was a gift or something??

WTF??

But worst of all! Worst than all this weird crazy nonsense, was his king!

If MBJ had been needy, demanding, and spoiled before, it was nothing compared to now.

Now, MBJ demanded his full attention when they talked, looking him dead in the eye like he was trying to pick out a lie. Or when they sat, he pulled SQH to his lap like he was going to run away. Or get made when those weird not-gifts started to pile up in his house.

He had the sneaking suspicion that his king broke some of them too.

Aiya!

And because SQH'S body was a traitor now, not only did it need food like all of the time, it needed sleep too! He was now falling asleep on his king's lap all the time. So rude!

He tried to get MQF to deal with this weirdness but his shidi only said that it was normal.

And then patted his head! Like... Like--like he was a kitten or something!

WTF?!

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi. I don’t know if requests are still open or not, but I was wondering if you could do some headcannons of Hector, Isaac, Alucard and Trevor helping their S/O through a panic attack??

If you feel uncomfortable writing this or if requests are closed please feel free to ignore this request. I hope you are well and staying safe 💞

Ask: Hi. I don’t know if requests are still open or not, but I was wondering if you could do some headcanons of Hector, Isaac, Alucard, and Trevor helping their S/O through a panic attack??

If you feel uncomfortable writing this or if requests are closed please feel free to ignore this request. I hope you are well and staying safe 💞

A/N: Requests are still closed as of right now, but this one made it in before that- I’m just a super slow tortoise when it comes to getting things done. (I think I’ve had like a year of writer’s block. That or it was just a major depressive episode… Who’s to say?) Anyways, onwards and upwards! Here is how I think Hector, Isaac, Alucard, and Trevor would help their S/O through a panic attack. I hope they're good, normally when I'm panicking I just let myself freak tf out lol

☮ ☮ ☮

Hector: 

Hector knows exactly what a panic attack is. Okay, well maybe he doesn’t know all the psychology behind it, but he’s had plenty himself, so he understands how overwhelming they can feel. 

He may not pick up on the fact that you’re having one right away if he’s preoccupied with making night creatures at the moment. But he’s also one to worry about you- he’s lost almost everyone he’s loved in some way or another, so he makes a point of checking in between every couple of creations. 

He’ll see your labored breathing, the fear in your eyes, or the way you bend your body in half and know immediately that something is wrong. He’s learned from observing your behavior: which words and movements mean you’re happy and which ones mean you need help. 

He’ll physically come over to you, and place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. If you’re in his workshop, or somewhere else that isn’t exactly an ideal calm spot, he’ll usher you- carry you even- if he has to, to a safer place where the two of you can sit quietly. 

If you’re okay with being touched, he’ll hold you close to him, placing one of his hands on the small of your back. Using the other, he’ll grasp one of your hands and bring it to his chest so you can focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

He takes deep calming breaths and urges you to match yours to his. 

Once you're past the worst of it, he’ll leave you alone momentarily to go and make the two of you tea. The two of you can sip your tea and enjoy the company of your many adorable undead pets together. It may be unnerving to some, but to you, when you’re all together, it helps make the world look less intimidating. 

Isaac: 

Isaac doesn't panic often, or, well, ever to be quite honest. He used to be terrified as a kid, but now that he’s a man in charge of his own destiny, that’s all behind him. That doesn’t mean he’s unaware of your feelings or anything. As a matter of fact, he prefers the focus to be on your feelings so he doesn’t have to share his. 

The first thing he has you do is drink some ice-cold water, to help your brain shift its focus from your overwhelming feelings to the shocking and quite refreshing feeling of the cool liquid going down your throat. 

The second thing he does is rub soothing circles into the pulse points on both your wrists. He learned from an acupuncturist in one of his many travels, that these points, called the Great Abyss and the Spirit Gate respectively, are good pressure points to use in alleviating feelings of anxiety. 

Thirdly, he makes sure those in and around the palace respect your privacy. He ushers any passersby away and uses his night creatures to reroute people to ensure no one other than him sees you in this state. He doesn’t want you to feel negatively judged for having feelings, because he lived his life like that for so long and he knows how awful it is. 

Once you’ve reached the peak of your panic attack and begin to come down, he’ll ask if you want to talk about what triggered you in the first place. After all, he is the King of Styria now. If it’s something he can change in the palace, or in the way people work, you can bet he’s going to fix it for your benefit. 

If it isn’t something he or you can change, but rather something you have no other choice but to live with, he mentally makes peace with it and urges you to do the same. Yes, feelings of panic are scary and they mess up your entire day, but if this is a part of who you are, he doesn’t want you to feel in any way angry at yourself or at fault. People carry all different burdens, this one just happens to be yours. And Isaac is more than happy, to let you know, you don’t carry this one alone. 

Alucard: 

Alucard is pretty stoic most of the time, at least, he tries to be. He’s not used to vocalizing or expressing how he feels. Hell, he doesn’t even really know how to process all that he feels, much less share it. So it’s safe to say, being a knowledgeable and comforting presence is foreign to him. 

Greta and Sypha do end up teaching him a little bit, but you’re gonna have to be very honest and open with him going forward if you want him to anticipate your needs beyond eating and sleeping every once in a while.

You’d most likely come to him and tell him. Either with an “Alucard, I need you,” or even a whispered, “Help.” And he’d come running, like superspeed running, over to you. 

Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? He’s checking for blood. No blood! Okay, any bruises? No bruises! He’s going through the physical list when he notices the way you’re trembling, the way you keep grasping at your chest, and the way you keep shaking your head ‘no’. He soon realizes it's not that kind of injury. 

He takes you to your room and sets you gently on the bed. He asks you directly: what can he do, and what do you need? Whatever it is he’ll get it, or he’ll ask for someone else to get it, so he can stay there in the meantime and hold you. 

He lets you play with his hair, something he rarely does, to keep your mind occupied on something else. He’ll even shift into his wolf form if you’d prefer a big fluffy doggie to cuddle with. 

Stemming off of what he’s learned from Sypha and Greta, he reminds you how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him. He thinks you’re a wonderful person- brave and strong. Panic attacks don’t change that. And he’s not upset or even shocked- life is scary, and your guys’ life has been very scary. 

Basically Alucard just wants you to know that even though he isn’t an expert at emotions, he’ll stay by your side, throughout it all. 

Trevor: 

Trevor actually used to have panic attacks a lot as a kid, but back then he had his family to help him through it. After they were taken from him, he shut down emotionally- something he needed to do to survive. So now, his emotional IQ isn’t the greatest. That doesn’t mean he’s not observant though. 

Being a trained monster hunter, he’s good at reading people. He can spot fear or aggression from a distance, and he’d definitely be able to sense panic in you. 

He would want to make sure the two of you are in a place and position for you to freak out freely, preferably away from prying strangers’ eyes. It’s not that he’s embarrassed, he just wants the two of you to feel safe enough to calm down, and it’s hard to do that with a bunch of judgemental eyes on you. 

Trevor’s priority is safety: so once the two of you are clear of people (or night creatures), he turns his attention to you. He instructs you to take deep breaths: in through your nose and out through your mouth- he remembers reading something about that in one of his family’s books a long time ago. 

If you’re not too hot, or in the middle of an anxiety-driven hot flash, he’ll offer you his coat/cloak to grip on or to cocoon yourself in. If you choose the former, he’ll place a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and practice his breathing with you. If you prefer the latter, he’ll pick your wrapped-up form and cradle you in his lap. And he’ll tell you stories from a happier time in his life- something he doesn’t share with anyone other than you- to distract your mind. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you. 

Trevor knows he comes off as stony, bitter, and just completely over-it in general, but he never wants you to think he feels that way about you. He loves you, and he prides himself on his ability to protect you and keep you safe. You’re his family now. He’s going to stick through it all with you- thick and thin. 

He might even softly sing some of the old Romanian lullabies his mother used to sing to him. But that’s only if you’re really, really panicked. Once you start teasing him about how he’s really just a big softie, he knows you’re going to be just fine.

[gratifyingdays]

Grat's Character Sheet:

(THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT A CHARACTER SHEET, PLEASE BARE WITH ME IM NEW.)

Name: Gratifying Days.

True Name: Feuer Days.

Username: GratifyingDays

Nicknames: Grat, Sun Child, The Sun King, Glowstick, Light Taker, Lemon, Silly Demon.

Age: 19 (In demon years!)

Birthday: April 20th ????

Pronouns: He/Him.

Gender: Male.

Sexuality: Homosexual.

Species: Demon (Pride/Wrath Hybrid)

Disorders: Insomnia, Autism, PTSD, CPTSD, NPD, OCD, Depression, Unipolar Mania.

Physicial conditions: Dichromatic Vision, Solar Retinopathy.

Addictions: Smoking and Drinking.

Religion: None, but he'll follow whatever benefits him the most.

Job: Puppet!

Past job: King (Dictator👎).

Past birthplace: Somewhere in hell?

Past homes: His fathers train, heaven, his realm.

Living: Daisy's house! (He sleeps in the trees, specifically the big one in heaven.)

Languages: English and Demonic.

Height: 6'5. (Tall guy!!!)

Powers: Shape-shifting, Possession, Enhanced hearing, Enhanced strength, Enhanced speed, Fire and light elemental powers, Teleportation, Invisibility.

Weaknesses: Cold temperatures, holy items, darkness, his loyalty.

Weapons: A golden sword, a golden axe, His claws and teeth.

Alignment: Chaotic neutral/lawful evil.

Favorite animals: Cats and Birds!!!

(There diffrent in his realm!)

Diet: He's not too picky with his food, but definitely prefers any type of cooked meat and any type of tea! And souls occasionally!!

Scent: Smoke and antique cologne.

Favorite flowers: Coreopsis and Yellow Roses. (Not sunflowers, surprising, I know!!)

Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Fact: He feels no remorse for the realms he's left without a sun! Those losers should have been more prepared!

Soul: Witch's hat mushroom!

Grat!:

Family: Ottone "Brass-Hat" Days and Cordelia "Svet" Days.

Friends: The Cultivator, Alice, Daisy, Dayfare, Ebrofour, Jessa, Asa, Lancia, Sotomania, Cosmo, Zailyn, Radio, Pixy, AND SO MANY MORE!!!

Pets: Three cats, Hope, Ambi and Faith!!!

Brief personality:

Grat is a very cheerful and energetic demon most of the time! He's always willing to help if he can! Sometimes, he can be a tad bit too energetic and get violent, but he really doesn't do it out of anger or hatred.

A lot of Grat's cheerfulness is an act, he fears people wouldn't like him so much if he wasn't so happy all the time, and if they don't like him... How could he accomplish his goals?

He tends to over think a lot.

When he's in the dark for too long, he can be very apathetic and distant due to his unresolved trauma and fears of his past.

Grat is an incredibly loyal worker and would do just about anything for the person he's working for! Unless it threatens the safety of his suns of course.

Very Brief Backstory:

Grat grew up on his father's train, would cause mischief there and steal from passengers. Stole a book about the sun. Became obsessed with that book about the sun and ran away to train so he could escape hell. Became big and strong and escaped hell, more training, beat up angels, became a cruel ruler in heaven. Befriended the God of that reality, created a realm together. Blah blah blah, went to other realities together and stole their suns too.

There realm couldn't handle all of the suns so the God sacrificed themselves to save the realm, blah blah blah, Grat lost most of his powers but didn't give up, now in a new reality working on getting more power and suns then hopefully returning to his realm when done!

(This is a very simplified version of this because there's still a lot of story things I need to figure out. I'm not a writer, so forgive me if it's not great or if things are misspelled. I have never created anything on the scale of this character or even shared any of my characters online, so I am very much out of my depth and would appreciate it if you didn’t judge too harshly!🙏)

(I hope I didn't mess this up hhhhh...)

[mccnstruck]

hold me like you understand.

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

tags: TW!!: implied depression and $u!cida! thoughts, mention of sh, vent fic, op is going through it, not proofread, hurt/comfort, kissing, the ending sucks

a/n: sorry guys 😭

the people down in the shops wandered around, yelling prices and selling different products. kids ran outside with the ball, yelling and laughing underneath the joyous warmth of the sun. friends gathered to drink tea, warriors trained amidst the green fields.

the wooden floor began to slide underneath your bed, yet you didn't seem to care; your eyes unfocused and stoic. your bed piled with clothes of the past day, your blanket had a eerie smell of sickness, yet you didn’t seem to care; you hands were too weak to pull the blanket over you fully. your throat felt like sandpaper and your stomach yearned for at least a small meal, yet you didn’t seem to care, your lips broken and bleeding.

nothing really mattered anymore, did it? it felt like weeks have turned into days, and your sense of time slipped away from the grasp of your fingers. you were too tired to grasp it back; letting reality slip away. nothing really mattered, did it? the red scars testing the fragility of your skin, the cold air making the hairs on your skin stand. your desk remained clattered of the endless amount of work given to you 2 days prior. your eyes consisted of red, either because of the 2 hours of sleep or the tears that fell onto your bed.

when was the last time someone had visited you? now that you think about it, when was the last time you talked to someone out of your own desire..?

it didn’t matter anyways. they wouldn’t want to talk to someone who doesn’t even know how to take care of themselves.

so, you laid there for a undefined amount of time. the soft promises of warmth and comfort from your bed soon turned into a confined suffocation; forced to face the thoughts in your head.

your chest hurt. you were tired. you wished you could see light, literally and figuratively. would you feel some relief? or would that light overwhelm you; the burdens of life forcing you back into the darkness of your room?

there’s nothing for you here. all of your loved ones were better off if they weren’t forced with the burden of acknowledging you anyways.

and yet, the knock on your door says otherwise.

a soft voice echoes through the walls of your home. “[name]?”

kazuha? what was he doing here?

your voice cracks, yet somehow you find the power to reply.

“sorry, give me a minute…!”

with the task of not disappointing kazuha, you rushed to get up and change into the clothes on your bed. your legs almost crumble after curling up into a ball for so long, yet you will yourself to walk to the main door.

you squint your eyes when you peek outside to see kazuha with something in his hands. the light of another day shined into your home from the crack of the door. kazuha softly laughed when he saw two eyes peek back at him.

“hello, you. i just wanted to pop in, if you don’t mind? it’s been a while, and i would like to spend some time with you.”

“um, its really messy inside…”

“i don’t mind. well, unless you want me to go? i don’t mind either way. whatever you wish.”

you don’t want kazuha to see the calamity of your home. but having him over would be nice.

“…promise you won’t judge?”

“of course, dear.”

you opened the door some more for him to enter. as he walked in, his eyes widened. your home looked dim and felt stiff. he looked at you in your entirety to see dark eye bags, unkempt clothes and tear stains marking your face.

he placed down the bag in his hands and moved closer to you, his crimson eyes dilated in fear of losing you to your thoughts. “my love…what happened?”

your voice cracked. your hands began to shake at his question. “it’s…. it’s been a rough few weeks. i’m sorry.”

he held your hands with caution, and let his lips linger on your skin. “don’t be sorry for not feeling alright. you should’ve told me of the thoughts that lingered in your head.”

he tugged on your hands, and you followed him to your kitchen. he sat you down on the chair and walked behind the counter.

"do you wish for a specifc food?"

"kazuha..."

"shh. let us make something, ok?"

he began to work with what you had, humming to a tune you weren't familiar with. he paced around the kitchen, while asking you where things were. you pointed to each cabinet, naming what was in there and what needed to be restocked. kazuha smiled and made his way to you to kiss your cheek. his lips lingered onto your skin and whispered, "thank you for helping me, dove."

soon, the spoons clicked at the bottom of the bowl, and your stomach was content with finally consuming something. saying your thanks and helping him with washing the plates, you finally move into your bedroom.

you were scared. the eerie smell never left your room and if kazuha were to even flinch at the condition of your room, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

and yet, kazuha walked in as if he didn't notice. he lit the small candle in your room and walked back to you, dazed and bewildered.

kazuha pulled your arm and let his own wrap around you. his face fit into the crook of your neck, and he gave a gentle squeeze. you swore you almost cried when he held you with such care, a reassurance that he was with you.

"kazuha...?"

his own voice was shaky, yet he whispered.

"i'm so sorry, dove. i'm so sorry for letting your mind consume you. i should've noticed sooner. "

"kazu, you didn’t have to-"

"i want to. it's not easy to face all these burdens, and you are the strongest person i know. you've done so much for me and so many other people. let me take some of those burdens, let me take care of you."

you hiccup, and a fresh set of tears stained his clothes.

"kazuha, why do you do so much for me?"

your cries echoed the room, and kazuha's heart broke. here in his arms, stood a person, who he thought deserved every bit of joy of the world, crying to him because they couldn't even find a reason for his kindness. his willingness to help was for the satisfaction of his heart, not of a ulterior motive. but to think that you, his love, would need a reason of kindness, because you thought you didn't deserve his love, you didn't deserve him.

kazuha answers, "because you are you. before you are my love, you are you. you are human. that in itself, should be all the answers to that question. but, i know your mind won't settle for only that."

he leans back, and you mourn the loss of warmth. his hand cradle your cheek, and he guides your face to look at him. "i want to help because you mean so much to me. it doesn't seem like it, but you mean so much to others too. captain beidou was asking about you the other day. she wanted your input on something, now that i think about it. and before, when i went off to liyue, the kids over there still remember you as the person who played catch with them. even your mama sent over something. i left it on the counter, but auntie told me she had made your favorite sweets."

kazuha examined your eyes, ignoring the shock written on your face.

"i don't see the stars in your eyes; it pains me to see it so dimmed. no matter how far i am willing to follow, i cannot reach you when you are so deep in your mind's cage. please, let the people care for you. you deserve this much."

he leaned in, and in the time it took you nod, he had leaned into a kiss. his other hand remained firm on your waist, and he muffled the sighs from you. your face felt unclean and dirty, you wanted to say. he telepathically answered by peppering kisses on your face, the sensation ticklish. you feel the laugh burst from your chest, and you also feel kazuha's smile on your skin.

voice muffled from peppering kisses onto you, he mumbles. "h'vent heard you laugh in so long. you sh'ld laugh and smile more."

he was right, you thought. this is the first time you genuinely laughed in... how long? you didn't care to count the time passed.

when he leaned back, he saw you smiling at him with a glint of light in your eyes. kazuha gives you a smile of his own. "mission complete."

he leaves one last kiss on your lips, before pulling you in another hug.

"thank you, kazu."

"don't mention it."

"do you want to help me gift something for mama this afternoon?"

you feel his smile on your neck as he whispers a yes.

the candle burned brightly on your desk. you hoped it forever stayed that way in your heart.