#i recently had a death in my circle and let me tell you...

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Bewitched Pt II

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

-

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

-

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

-

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

-

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

-

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

[spxllcxstxr]

Give Me Strength to Stand • M.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Could you do a story where the reader (she/her) is a nurse and is struggling with returning to work in the Pittsburgh after losing their dad suddenly? Hurt and comfort with either Abbot or Robby if possible 💜 -- @rae4725

Summary: With the recent death of your father dominating your thoughts, you find it difficult to think about going into work the next day. You call up Robby to help you through it

Warnings: nurse!reader, fem!reader, death of a father, grief, overwhelming sadness, talk of Adamson's death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 950

A.N: I have never lost a parent, but I tried my best. If you ever need to talk I'm always here for you guys <3 Also first time writing for robby and the pitt (that's why its so short lmao) so let me know if i need to work on anything or something lol

•

Tomorrow was the end of your bereavement leave and the thought of getting out of bed and going to work as if everything was fine petrified you.

You would have to step into the trauma center and focus on saving people--saving other people's fathers so they didn't lose them like you did just a week ago. You would have to give them chest compressions or a blood transfusion and while you should be focused on their care, your mind would wander and you would wonder if you father received the same treatment, states away, and if they did why didn't it work?

Thoughts like these plague you enough that you pull your covers over your head, the sunlight filtering in through your blinds irritating. Your face aches from crying and your throat is raw from sobbing into your pillow. The thought of returning to work and seeing sons and daughters go through the exact same thing difficult to swallow.

It was hard before his accident, you know this, because you always imagined the father lying in Trauma 1 with their child holding his hand while pleading for them to wake up was you. But now it really was. Tomorrow when you brought a kid to their dying dad you would now see yourself, ragged and exhausted and racked with despair.

Your back aches from laying in your bed.

Your phone dings with a text from Dana, telling you that you could take another day off if you felt you needed it. All week your coworkers had sent you heartfelt messages that made the whole process just a little bit more bearable. Your fingers hover over the keyboard to reply to Dana. Of course you wanted more time; going back to normal felt like an insult to your father's memory and simply dragging yourself there seemed like an impossible task.

But something stopped you from simply taking her up on the offer.

Instead, you text Robby to meet you at your apartment after his shift. He was your mentor, your friend, and most of all, the man you trusted with your life. Having lost someone akin to a parent, you knew he could tell you what to do.

He replies moments later, assuring you he'd be there when he's able to, and it all feels a little less scary knowing that.

Robby comes late in the night, bags under his eyes and short hair resting in chaos. His sad deep brown eyes track your movements as you let him inside and offer him tea. You can feel his gaze on the back of your neck and you shiver when his hands accompany them on your skin. His soft touches contrasted with his bone crushing hugs comfort you in a way the countless amount of sympathies from relatives and friends haven't.

On your couch, his hands clasp on of yours, thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"How did you do it?" You finally ask, voice cracking after not being used in days. You must sound so fragile because he frowns. "How did you just get back up and start another day after Adamson's death?"

He heaves out a sigh at the mention of his mentor. "It was hard," He states, nodding almost to himself. "So excruciatingly hard, like the world just crumbled beneath my feet and I somehow had to just keep walking like nothing was wrong."

Robby swallows roughly, thinking of his next words carefully. You bump his knee with your own, reminding him that you're still there with him. "But I knew I had to get up and continue on."

"I just...I just know I'm gonna have to save someone's father or watch someone's father die...and I just don't know how I can do that anymore without seeing him." You admit, looking past his shoulder to the yellow light of your lamp, hoping your tears would fade.

"The more you sit here and think about your father's passing, the tougher it will be to get up and resume your life." Robby shrugs. "It's a bitch, but it's true. You can't let the grief eat you alive, your father wouldn't want that."

Bottom lip wobbling, your eyes find Robby's. While your vision is blurry with tears, you can still see that his are as well.

"It's been well over a year since my mentor died but...but I know that if I stop for even a moment to lay down, I know my grief would consume me to the point of no return. He wanted me to be a great doctor and goddamn it, I'll be a great doctor for me, my patients, and for him." Robby huffs out a rough laugh. "Wherever he is, I'll make sure he knows he taught me well." His own smile is tight, red dusting around his eyes.

"You think I can do it?" You ask after a beat.

"Kid, I know you can do it. And you won't have to do it alone, either." Bowing his head, he searches for your eyes once again. "It gets easier, it really does, the grief you'll hold onto for the rest of your life will be a reminder of all the love you had for him and all the love he had for you. You just have to hold onto it and not let it consume you, ok?"

You take a deep and shuddering breath and nod. "Ok." Squeezing your eyes shut you lean into your attending and he wraps his arms around you once again. "Thank you, Robby." You whisper into his jacket.

"Any time, kid." He replies softly into the top of your head, lips grazing your hair. "We've got you."

•

[xtreme-shipper]

Just Don't Give Up

Azriel (ACOTAR) x FReader (Human)

WC: 1.5K (Oneshot)

Summary: When it all becomes too much to keep going, our favorite Shadowsinger shows up just in time.

Warnings: Mentions of (and attempt at) suicide, angsty, I think, canon divergent, not proofread, lol, hurt/comfort, English is not my first language. Let me know if I should add anything <3

N/A: Hi! This is my first ACOTAR fanfic, so constructive criticism is really appreciated :) It's been a while since I've written fanfiction, but recently, I've been obsessed with Az, so here we are.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night sky was blinding in the best way possible. Another year had passed, and you could see from the distance how your friends were celebrating another Starfall, a drunken joy filling the air, their voices full of excitement. The preparations started early this year, and the night court went all the way in, with concerts throughout the city and free drinks for all its citizens. You could tell the party would go on until sunrise and wondered, not for the first time tonight, why weren’t you down there with them?

“Is everything alright?” Az had asked you earlier that day. You nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Just had a long night.” He nodded, not fully convinced, but he didn’t push the subject, which you were grateful for. You didn’t need to ruin the mood because of your problems.

 Nightmares from under the mountain still plagued your sleep, making it almost impossible to get any rest, and it was starting to show. The things that you had to see while not being able to do anything haunted your every second.

You didn't expect to survive when you escaped from the human lands, but Rhys found you not long after you crossed the border. He wanted you to turn around, warning you that Prythian wasn’t safe, but the alternative—going back to town—was not an option; anything would be better than that, even certain death. So you stubbornly refused to, claiming you knew how to take care of yourself. The problem was that one of Amarantha’s minions watched the interaction and wanted you for its own entertainment, so Rhys had to pretend that he had taken a liking to you and wanted you as his pet.

Word got to Amarantha, and she wasn’t particularly happy with her plaything taking a liking to someone else, so she punished him while you watched, unable to do anything. Useless.

After that first time, Amarantha decided it was a fun idea to have his “beloved” pet watch the suffering she had caused. So, every time you did anything she deemed disrespectful (which was basically everything), a torture session would take place. You couldn’t help but think that if you had just stayed where you belonged, Rhys wouldn’t have suffered as much as he did. It was your fault, even when he insisted that it wasn’t.

Shaking your head, you try to get rid of the memories.

You turn your eyes to the stars, the same ones you prayed to every night. Always the same wish without any answer from them and wonder, like you so often do, whether you should still be here.

The inner circle had never treated you as less or excluded you from anything. They were your support when no one else would lend a helping hand, and with the years, they became your family, yet even now, you still feel like an outsider. You weren’t Illyrian like Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. Heck, you weren’t even Fae to begin with. You ended up being in the way most of the time.

You took your jacket off, letting the cold breeze hug your bare arms, where scars of silent battles painted them. A shiver ran down your spine as you stepped closer to the edge of the building.

In the human lands, your family never cared for you, and even when you left, no one mourned your “death”. Here in Velaris, you had people looking out for you, yet you felt like you didn’t quite fit in.

Would they notice? Would they care if you just… disappeared? Fae's lives were so endless that compared to them, humans’ existence must seem… insignificant.

Another step. You had slipped from the party when it all became too much. Your feet were moving on their own accord. Another shiver, another step. They would probably mourn for a while but then move on. You could stop the nightmares and the pain, and they could move on; Rhys wouldn’t have a living reminder of every time he was abused and had to endure the shame. Or when he was beaten, and you had to patch him up with your scarce medical knowledge.

Az and Cass could stop pretending that you didn’t cause their brother more suffering. That your recklessness didn’t make things worse. That they didn’t believe you weren’t brave enough to help him.

You are standing on the border of the building now, eyes fixed on the stars above, “Please,” you whispered. “Please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking for any more. Relieve from the pain, the guilt? Maybe you didn’t need an answer from the stars to fulfill that. You could hear the music all the way up here, a serene tune drowning the rest of the noise. You start walking on the edge, arms stretched wide to give yourself a bit more balance. One step, then another.

Letting go… should you… just one step…

A cold grip settles on your ankle and another on your wrist, pulling you carefully away from the border while a sad smile paints your lips.

You were used to Az’s shadows clinging to you from time to time, so you welcomed the touch but didn’t budge. You knew their master was standing a couple of steps behind you. “You know, you aren’t very sneaky for a spymaster.”

“I was looking for you.” His voice wasn’t more than a whisper. “I was worried since you left so early.”

“I’m fine” was all you said. A lie you had perfected over time.

He led out a humorless laugh. “You don’t seem fine.” You hear his steps, careful but loud, so you know he is getting closer. “Can you please step away, Sunshine?” You tense at the use of your nickname. So familiar by now, yet so unfitting.

“It’s fine, Az. I’m just admiring the night sky.” You can feel him right behind, you know. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Y/N… why are you here?” You knew he meant at the rooftop, but your mind couldn’t help going to a darker place.

You take a moment to answer, weighing your options. After a couple of silent minutes, you decide to be honest. “Did you know…” You pause for a second to try to stabilize your breathing. “That I was not only responsible for treating the High Lord's wounds? I was also tasked to inflict them.” You choke at your words, your throat feeling like it's closing, and it’s getting hard to breathe, but you push the words out anyway. “I am responsible for every scar that never fully healed, for every messed-up nightmare he has at night. I can still feel the way his muscles tensed every time I inflicted pain.” The world was spinning before your eyes, and the words were coming out in short breaths. You were gasping for air, struggling to get any inside your lungs, but still, the words wouldn’t stop coming out of your mouth.

“I’m the reason he suffered. If I hadn’t been there that day, or maybe if I had put up with my life at the… maybe he wouldn’t… he saw his… and I couldn’t… anything…” you close your eyes again. “How am I supposed to live here and accept all his help and love whe—”

A strong hand grabs you by your waist, interrupting your words and yanking you away from your doom. “It wasn’t your fault.” Az’s whisper came breathless, and his arms, though firmly hugging you, were shaking.

Tears were running down your face, staining his shirt. A protective wing wrapped around you, offering shelter. Giving you a protection you didn’t deserve. “I need the guilt to stop, Az. I’m a broken reminder of his pain, and selfishly, I can’t take it anymore.” You felt so tiny, so… shattered, fragments of yourself falling to the floor with every tear shed. He was silent for a moment, trying to hold you together while you crumbled.

Then his words reach your ears. “He once told me you remind him of his sister, you know?” One of his hands starts caressing your hair while the other firmly supports you against his body. “That your bad jokes to lighten the dreary mood and your constant presence were some of the things that kept him from giving up. That thanks to you, he was able to survive long enough to find his mate.” A loud sob shakes your entire body, hands fisting his shirt as you grab onto him for dear life. “Do you know why I call you ‘Sunshine’?” Az pauses, so you shake your head in response. “Rhys had been suffering long before you got there, and when he told us how you gave him hope, even when you yourself were silently breaking apart, how you would sing to him and brighten the mood with your warm voice, I knew. I knew you were like the sun he had been deprived of for so long. You saved my brother in the way that mattered the most. You were his light, and ever since you started living with us, you became my light, too.”

You were speechless at his words; raising your head from his chest, you looked into those beautiful hazel eyes and found nothing but tenderness. “You are my light, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to say it, Sunshine.” He places a kiss on your forehead. “I won’t say it will be easy, but I promise to be here with you. We will get through this. I promise, ok?” You nod as his grip tightens. “Just don’t give up, Sunshine.”

[gaymaramada]

Rise! Boys x Reader who has lost a loved one.

NOTE: This is entirely self-indulgent; my father unexpectedly passed yesterday and this is how I’m coping. A lot of this is based on my own experience and some of the dialogue is taken directly from me and my girlfriend, who was there for me as soon as I called her.

CW: death and grieving

Leonardo

It’s about two seconds after you send the text “please come over” that the room starts to smell of ozone and a bright blue portal cuts through the air. It takes less than half that time for Leo to step through, see your tear-stained face, and swiftly cross the room to gather you into his arms.

“Hey, hey, babe, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

His gentleness nearly sets you off again, and it takes a few tries for you to choke out the news. He freezes when he hears it, his breath hitching, before his hug morphs into a fully fledged embrace as he pulls you to his plastron.

He doesn’t say anything as he lets you cry yourself out, just holds you firmly with his chin on your head as he rubs slow circles into your back. You can feel him breathing with practiced control, like he’s silently guiding you to follow.

When you’ve cried yourself out (for now), he carefully pulls back enough to meet your eyes. His expression aches with empathy and understanding, his eyes shiny and his mouth locked in a straight line like he’s fighting the long-assimilated instinct to smile and tell you it’ll all be okay.

Instead, he places his cool hands over your heated face, thumbing away a few stray tears, and asks, “Have you had something to eat?”

Leo is the quietest you’ve ever seen him as he fetches you some water and a snack, but it’s not unnerving. His eyes speak volumes; they hardly leave you unless he’s in another room, and they look about as soft and tender as you feel.

He sits with you and cuddles you to his side. He lets you take the reins on whether or not you want to talk about it. Rather than asking about what happened, he instead tells stories about his father, who had also recently passed.

“When I was, like, seven or eight, pops helped me and Raph build a lemonade stand in the lair. Raph was crushing the lemons in this big bucket, so it probably tasted more like feet than lemonade, but dad would drink it anyways. He even paid for it, too; that twenty-five cents he popped in our little jar made us feel like billionaires.”

He rambles on with stories, funny and wholesome and sad alike, and you tell some of your own. You still choke on your voice whenever your loved one’s name comes up, but Leo is relentlessly patient. Eventually, other subjects come up, and you find yourself having a more normal conversation.

Leo stays with you for the rest of the day, encouraging you to participate in a few activities. You watch movies, play games, and when you find yourself overwhelmed with grief again, he is right there by your side. He does everything in his power to keep the fragile flame of hope in your heart from being snuffed out, whether it be through a brief conversation or simply with his presence.

Donatello

When Donnie answers his phone to the sound of you crying, he’s shooting up from his chair so fast that it topples to the floor loudly.

“What happened? Are you in danger? Are you injured? If so, tell me your pain on a scale of one to ten, one being the least amount of pain and ten being the maximum amount. What’s your location? Let me see if I can—”

You have to cut him off to break the news; he’s eerily silent for a long moment before you hear him utter a soft “… oh.”

He abruptly hangs up on you, but you don’t have long to be upset about that because he’s at your window within half the time it usually takes for him to get to your place, visible heat waves rippling off of his flight shell.

You’ve cried about as much as you’re able by the time he arrives, so he finds you lying in bed with a half-empty box of tissues and an overflowing trash can at your side. Your head is pounding and part of you just wants to be left alone to your grief.

Donnie won’t allow that. He pulls a cold water bottle from his battle shell and brings it to you, rifling through it some more while you open it. “Here. Crying dehydrates you. I’ve brought some light snacks in case you haven’t eaten and my hoodie that you love to steal. I also have ibuprofen, a heating pad, a cooling pad, and a few comfort movies that we could watch if you’d like. I have also contacted your work and informed them that you will be unavailable for the remainder of the week. Extended time off is doable as well.”

Donnie hates to see you cry. It makes his chest hurt and he feels utterly useless. His gut tells him to try to make you stop crying; people cry when they’re upset, so all he has to do is make you not upset. But his internal Dr. Feelings advises against that, telling him that stopping the pain isn’t the goal, but instead helping you weather through it.

He encourages you to stay hydrated, coaxing you to eat a little as well. He even has a timer that goes off routinely for some minor physical activity like stretching, all the while listing off the physical, mental, and emotional benefits of exercise of any kind.

He is at your beck and call 24/7. You need something to eat? He has an array of your favorites laid out like a buffet. You want a distraction? He’s got Studio Ghibli, Jupiter Jim, and even some absurdly bad Hallmark Christmas films. You just need to cry? He is there with a box of tissues and a weighted blanket.

Raphael

Raph is out on patrol when he gets the call from you. You can hear the pleasant exhaustion in his voice as he catches his breath from a recent tussle with some baddies. “Hey, sugar! What’s up?”

When you meet his enthusiasm with choked whimpers, his tone goes soft and gentle in an instant. “Hey, whoa, what’s wrong? You okay?”

You hear a sharp gasp when you break the news, then the distant sound of voices in the background asking questions, before Raph croaks, “I’ll be right over.”

Raph practically busts through your window, eyes wide with worry when he finds you curled up on the floor. The sight of him sets you off again, and he scoops you up into his arms like a frightened kitten, murmuring reassurances and kissing your head.

He’s a sympathetic crier; you cry, he cries. He tries to keep it together for you, to be the rock that you need, but he can’t help the way his breath hitches as a few tears leak out. He has to abandon the voiced assurances after a moment, no longer confident that it won’t crack and wobble when he speaks.

Raph will sit with you until you’re too exhausted to keep crying, and he’ll stay right by you when the next wave of grief hits. He presses your head to his plastron, and you can feel a faint rumbling beneath your temple; it’s an old turtle trick that he learned after years of comforting distressed little brothers, and even though you can’t hear the low chirps quite like they can, the gesture is touching.

Raph will ask a lot of questions: can he do anything for you? Do you need anything? Would you like him to let go or keep holding you? Whatever you want, Raph’ll handle it.

He holds you together when you fracture, keeping you close and making sure you know that he’s there, that he’s got you, that he loves you, and that you are not alone.

Michelangelo

Mikey facetimes you regularly, so he isn’t surprised to get a call from you. What does surprise him is the way you’re weeping on the other end, and he drops everything he’s doing.

His loud gasp when you tell him what happened would be comical in a less solemn situation. He’s already tearing up, stuttering through his words as he tries to wrap his head around it. “I-I don’t— what even—? A-are they— are you—? Ohmigosh, honey—“

He tells you he’s coming over, frantically rummaging around the lair for anything you may need and nearly dropping the phone multiple times in the process. He stays on with you all the way until he’s at your windowsill. The moment you let him in, he’s wrapped completely around you.

Mikey will hug the daylights out of you for hours if he can, mumbling his condolences in your ear as he runs his hands up and down your back. He’ll let you cry as much as you need, only stopping you if your breathing gets too frantic; if that happens, he’ll guide you through a few breathing exercises.

If you want to talk about it, he’ll ask several questions about them; what’s your happiest memory with them? Did you have any inside jokes? What kinds of quirks did they have? He wants to help you recall as many happy memories as you can.

If you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll spill his own thoughts to you. “I wish these kinds of things didn’t happen. It’s just not fair. And I know there’s nothing I can do to make it better for you, but I still wanna try. I promise that I got you, and my whole family’s got you, too. We love you. I love you.”

Mikey encourages you to watch funny animals or soothing ASMR videos to keep you afloat. He becomes your personal teddy bear, letting you cling to him and cry to him to your heart’s content. If you cry yourself to exhaustion, he is 100% gonna make you take a nap with him. Then he’ll bake you some cookies when you wake, savoring a tiny sample of the dough as he fully intends to let you have the whole batch to yourself.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Hot in Herre

Author’s note: Here we are, I’ve been bitten by the Joe bug. My first Burrow fic and my first time in a LONG time not writing Justin so here we go!

“Oh baby, there’s absolutely no way you’re getting out of this. A bet is a bet remember?”

If looks could kill, you’d be long gone by the death glare that you’re met with. “This isn’t fair. How in the world did you eat that entire plate without reaching for your drink once? Monster.” He thinks his nose may be running and his lips are on fire but you seem to be relaxed and carefree sitting across from him on the couch. You pat him on the leg as a sign of pity, which you know he hates. You’re just celebrating your win appropriately, silently rubbing it in his face. You know it’d be much worse if the roles were reversed so you don’t feel as bad.

He carefully moves his leg out of your reach, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing his mini temper tantrum, all because of one little challenge that he didn’t win.

You scoot closer to him, grabbing his hand, “now Joseph, don’t be a sore loser.”

“Have you ever met me?” He cracks a smile, no matter how badly he doesn’t want to. You making small circles on his hand with your thumb almost always makes him melt, like putty in your hands, just for a second until he remembers his devastating loss. “Be honest with me,” he narrows his eyes, “how did you do it?”

Leaning in without breaking eye contact you whisper, “I will never reveal my secrets. And I’ll be making a reservation for two on Friday night so I expect you to be ready.” With a swift kiss on the cheek, you leave him stuck in his seat.

The day started out as any normal bye week Wednesday, Joe got up early to get a workout in, his body fully recovered from the recent beatings he’d taken during games, and spent most of the afternoon mulling over ever life choice he’s ever made on the couch or in his office. You could practically hears the gears turning in his brain, pondering the different scenarios that needed to happen in order for the Bengals to scratch and claw their way into the playoffs.

Of course you wanted to be a positive and supportive partner, a shoulder to cry on when needed and someone to bounce ideas off of, but the fact of the matter was that this may be a long shot and the season looked more over by the minute. Not that you would ever say that out loud. So instead, you suggested a little game for dinner, Joe’s second of the night and your first and only. Most of the time his eating schedule was hard to keep up with.

You knew that he loved spicy food and his chef just had some Carolina Reapers delivered, some of the hottest peppers he could find. Desperately trying to get him out of his head, you made two noodle dishes with the peppers, stating that the first person to take a drink loses. If he won, he’d get three uninterrupted video game nights a week whenever he wanted for a month. And if you won? A karaoke date.

Which led you to today and would explain Joe’s visceral reaction at the thought of singing. Or having any fun during a very NOT fun time in his life. Alas, you were determined to make this an enjoyable experience for everyone involved. Hopefully.

As much as Joe dreaded it, Friday came and it was time to go. He watched somewhat happily as you bounded down the stairs, snatching the keys on the counter and asking him if he was ready to leave. You could tell he wanted to ask you why he couldn’t drive, but he swallowed his pride and let himself be the passenger prince for once. This week was meant for relaxation, letting his hair down and stepping away from the disappointment of the team underperforming based on his and the entire NFL world’s expectations. The more time passed, the more people were starting to believe that maybe their best days were behind them. That 2021 playoff run was in the rear view mirror and the possibility of getting back to that caliber looked near impossible.

You spent the entire drive thinking about how the weight of it all was clearly weighing on him and you just wanted to help him lighten that load by doing something you both considered silly and meaningless. Joe’s unwavering focus and need for a routine during the season was impressive and admirable, but you needed to let him know this week that life was still full of little pleasures. You hoped that day would serve to remind him of that.

The two of you walked into the dimly lit room, ushered through the back where your private karaoke space awaited. Neon lights adorned the place and made you feel like you were in some coming of age film, except you already had the guy you wanted.

“This place is huge,” your boyfriend notes, looking around suspiciously. “It’s just gonna be the two of us, right? Because I’m not singing for an audience.”

“You play in front of 65,000 people at home games but THIS is where you draw the line?” You laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a seat on the leather couch with a water bottle firmly in hand. “That’s different, I spend all week getting prepared, studying my opponent, going to practice. It’s just football. This is…not my area of expertise.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect, I want you to have fun.” Joe sighs at your words, glancing towards you slightly in awe as you mindlessly look through the song selection. You set your sights on the perfect song, gently grabbing the mic and getting yourself mentally prepared.

Joe playfully rolls his eyes at you tiny imitation of him meditating and getting in the zone before a game. “You ready?” He asks.

After a firm nod, you hear the music play, Chandelier by Sia blasting on the speakers. Joe had heard your rendition of the song in the shower on many occasions, but now he’d be listening to you on the big stage.

You loved having his full attention for a few hours, the way his icy blue eyes looked softer in this light, the way the smile reached his eyes when you sang a note a little off key and kept going…you might have even started singing a little louder to really drive the performance home. He gave you a standing ovation when you were done shaking his head as he laughed, the previous tension in his shoulders had disappeared and you were grateful because it was there so frequently you thought it had become permanent and he’d never relax again. But there he was, bright eyed and highly amused at your conviction in committing to the bit and your ability to never take yourself too seriously. It was one of his favorite things about you, the confidence you had in yourself and your ability to make those around you at ease. And he felt bad for not telling you enough how much that really meant to him. The least he could do now was give you the performance of a lifetime.

“Alright,” he sighs walking closer to you, grabbing the purple mic off the rack, “watch and learn.”

“Oh? The reluctant student has become the master. I like where this is going.” A subtle hint of his cocky demeanor sends shivers down your spine, and you try your best to ignore whatever is going on between your legs.

Even if you did try to tell anyone tonight happened, they wouldn’t believe you. There’s no way on earth that Joe Burrow actually got up and sang the entirety of Hot in Herre by Nelly without missing a single word. No chance. And yet…here you were witnessing a moment in history that fascinated and mesmerized you so much that you didn’t even reach for your phone to record it. Living in the moment, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you waist, pulling you in so that your bodies were close enough to use the same mic while you did the ad-libs was everything you could’ve asked for, and more, out of this karaoke date night.

When the music stopped playing, you were too gobsmacked to even laugh let alone form a coherent thought. “Where the hell did that come from?”

He’s always keeping you on your toes, that’s for sure, but this came out of left field. Way left.

“I don’t know,” he laughs, parking himself next to you running his fingers through his barely there blond tips. “Saw you have fun with it and I just thought, why not do the same?”

“Well I’m very impressed. And I think we should do another song.”

So you did, for the next hour. Kid Cudi was on the Setlist of course, a little Beyoncé thrown in there and by the end of your reserved time neither of you could remember the last time you’d laughed as hard or as often during football season. All of that just reenforced the fact that he really needed tonight.

You let Joe drive the two of you home, feeling him pause before pulling out of the parking lot.

“What’s on your mind?” Your voice was gentle, soothing him and making seemingly all of his problems vanish into the night.

He grabs your hand over the center console, looking over with so much love in his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you. For today. For—for everyday. I know this isn’t the most fun time and I haven’t been the easiest or most fun to be around but, you’re always here for me and I appreciate that more than I can say out loud. So this is me…trying to be better.”

“Honey, I am so proud of you. Just couldn’t keep sitting there, letting you blame yourself for everything that’s going wrong. You deserve the world and I can’t give you that but I can give you goofy little date nights. I hope that’s enough.”

The quarterback smiles, letting one hand rest on your cheek, “it’s more than enough. I just wish I could do more for the team you know? I don’t play defense but maybe I’m not leading them enough or motivating guys to be at their best?”

“No, stop. A year ago you were about to have season ending wrist surgery that no quarterback has ever gone through before. Now you’re statistically the best quarterback in the league and you’re playing the best you’ve ever played in your entire life. I know you’re not happy with where the team is at but you should be over the moon about how far you’ve come and how far you can go. I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know that.”

You can tell he’s about to open his mouth to downplay your words so you continue before he can put a stop to it. “If your performance post injury isn’t enough of an example or enough of a motivation tactic then that’s on them. You are putting your best foot forward daily and if they aren’t matching that energy then things need to change. Things that don’t include you. I may be biased but I think you’re perfect,” you give him a peck on the lips, feeling the smile on the corner of his mouth beginning to form.

He put the car in the drive, shaking his head. “You’re just saying that because I sang Nelly for you.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement. I’m just very glad I won the bet.”

[purifiedclitoris69]

In it together

Hiii. I am alive, just very busy and overwhelmed with living ig. College fucking sucks and so does everything else rn, but figured i get a lil blurb out before i have to lock back into my classes. hope you enjoy!! don’t really know what ima do w my series or when ima update so i am sorry bout that LOL. anyway bye for now 👋👋

You were absolutely exhausted. A 2 week mission with only 3 hours of sleep total takes an intense toll, even if you are a super soldier. Letting the burning hot water run down your back , flashes of the recent mission ran through your mind. The experiment files were horrific, so many deaths, so many children.

You had only been at the compound for about a year and a half now, the team rescuing you from Hydra’s control like Bucky. You were free of the brainwash but not of the memories and this long ass mission had brought it all right back to the surface. It was getting better, your in therapy, bonding with the team, learning how to control your strength, your growing. But this mission, feels like it’s all about to come crumbling down. It made you feel sick. Thoughts of losing yourself, the team… of losing, Natasha, it burned your throat.

What you have with Natasha is confusing, complicated, but nice. No one else knows the true nature of it but you two. Falling into each others beds continuously for the past 8 months, staying tangled in each other, every single night, cuddling, and giggling like little teen girls. The team simply thought you guys were close friends, both you two being spies, it wasn’t too hard to hide your extracurriculars. But you both knew it was more, so much more. You held each other in the most gentlest ways…the most loving, opting not to leave one another when you guys inevitably came undone. In front of the team, you had a front, a quiet brooding one, but with her, it was peaceful, relieving, you felt free, like yourself. It was absolutely terrifying.

Not realizing it tears were beginning to mix with the water running down your face and crescent marks formed in your palms from clenching your fists too hard. You love her. You’re in love with her, but how could you tell her, would you. Your whole life you’ve been used as a weapon, serving for the military, then hydra. You were dangerous…a monster. It was late, almost 2 am, you couldn’t go to her now, she need rest, not a burden. no matter how much you yearned for her warmth. Turning off the burning water, you stepped out into the steam filled bathroom. Drying off, you wrapped the towel around your waist and another draped over your shoulders, you opened the door to your bedroom-on your bed sat Nat. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, her hair was slightly ruffled, she wore an old shirt of yours, and some of her loose sleep shorts. She looked absolutely stunning, you couldn’t help but give a soft tired smile.

“hi.” she spoke softly with a matching smile.

“hi,” you answered stopped in place just taking her in.

“you gonna get dressed,” she smirked tiredly, “tho i don’t mind.”

“oh really” you joked walking over to her and cupping her face as she looked up at you, “i missed you,” you spoke softly the tiredness bringing out a transparency.

She leaned into your hand closing her eyes, “i missed you,” she answered. Your heart swelled and the flashes came back, you could hurt her, what if you lose it. Suddenly taking a step back her cheek still warm from your touch, her eyes flew open. You turned your back, getting dressed by your closet, “is everything okay,” she asked as you pulled your tank top over your head and braced yourself against your dresser.

You opened your mouth unsure what you wanted her to know, “yeah,” was all you could muster.

“I really did miss you,” she walked up behind you wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning her check against your back, just enjoying your smell, “i don’t sleep well without you anymore.”

“me either,” you turned around wrapping your own arms around her middle and looking to the side as hers went to your neck, “it was a rough mission,” you mumbled

“oh, baby,” she spoke, moving her hands to your face this time, “look at me please,” your eyes were burning with unshed tears as they met her soft deep green ones, “oh, my love, it’s okay,” she brought your head down to her shoulder as you released a shaky breath and let your arms fall from around her waist, “is there something else,” she asked dropping her own hands. You walked past her to sit on the bed not really sure where to start as you looked at your hands in your lap, “we don’t have to talk about it, it’s okay,” she spoke sitting beside you and gently take your hands in her own.

You finally looked back at her face, your eyes still glossy. You stared deep into each others eyes, “you’re so beautiful, Natasha,” you said memorizing every detail of her. She laughed quietly as a soft blush rose to her face.

“Shut up,” she said putting her forehead against hers.

She closed her eyes at the action as yours remained open, “I mean it, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

Her blush grew as she pulled back and looked away slightly, “god i love you,” she mumbled out casually bringing shock to both your faces. She immediately pulled her hands away and stood from the bed, her mouth opening and closing unsure what to say as you looked at her, overwhelmed with emotions, “y/n i’m sorry i-“

“You do?” you asked getting up from the bed with her, “you love me?”

“I..” She spoke uncertain, taking a deep breath in, “y/n i’m in love with you.” You laughed slightly in disbelief. You moved towards her with purpose grabbing her waist and pulling her into a bruising kiss, pouring every amount of love into it as possible, like it was the last time, like you were consumed by everything Natasha. You both grinned wide into the kiss, forcing the two of you to break apart.

Taking a deep breath, “Tasha, I..,” the thoughts all came rushing back. Your going to hurt her, you don’t deserve this love, your going to lose it all.

She moved her hands down from your neck to intertwine with your own, “I know,” she whispered.

“I really do,” you said, your foreheads still pressed together, “I..,” your mouth fell open and closed absolutely terrified to say something wrong, “Im just scared,” you mumbled, closing your eyes, but never dropping your hold.

“Don’t be,” she answered, moving her hands back up to cup your face, “we’re in this together.”

[manhattanstrawberry]

𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙨 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 ━━𝙎. 𝙂𝙚𝙩𝙤

Synopsis: He’s come to a decision, but he wants nothing more than for you to be with him.

Tags: angst, character death, mutual pining, jjk spoilers, geto’s defection, mitski reference

Word Count: 1.2k

Authors Note: I love love angst and doomed endings so I just had to write one for Suguru, I hope you guys enjoy!! ღ

Art credits: 521jie

His lungs burn, the feeling of poison seeping into his blood vibrates through his body. He believed it was his saving grace.  His “righteousness” will save him. It will save you. He won’t be selfish, he’ll give it to the world—those of who are left, those who deserved to be saved. Those who have a chance.

Should his world shatter for those who know nothing of it. The world favoured life of individuals and encouraged their emotions to transcend the boundaries of their bodies creating ungodly figures that travel in circles to torment them. 

I can’t leave you

The joints connecting his body were rattled, his mind rotting his body. The words from that woman rang in his head constantly, the death of his comrades slept on his shoulders weighing down on his body. The acid in his stomach rising, the ringing in his head constant and the continuous applauds invaded his veins, the feeling of his body functioning killed him. The taste of a used rag stained his tongue, there was nothing he could use to rid the taste, he was sinking. 

He remembers the solemn look on your face, the way your eyebrows were scrunched in disbelief from his words. The hairs on your neck stood up and you felt as if your heart was slowing down almost damn near to failing.

“Are you crazy?” Your hands ran across your face, “Are you feeling well or are you just pulling my leg.” You asked seriously. He didn’t look like he was joking and you hoped to God that he was trying to trick you.

You stood a few feet away from him, eyes scanning his figure as he looked back at you. 

“I am serious, let’s leave.” 

“Suguru, are you being serious.” Your voice was stern, with a hint of confusion bouncing around your words.

“Yes,” He sighed as his shoulders fell, “I am serious, let’s leave here.”

I can’t undo what I will do 

He watched as your face contorted into subtle anger and confusion, “Why.” 

“I want to live elsewhere—a new world.” 

“New world—? What the hell are you going on about?” You scowled at him, his carefree posture hiding the weight of his words annoyed you. 

You wondered if he really knew what he was saying, if he was just seeking help or support from recent events. You’d been there when he told you what happened, you'd been there when Haibara died, you were there. You were there as you watched him recount the memory, every word making little cuts through the fabric. You didn’t know there was just barely a thread left, you still didn’t.

His mouth slightly opened before he shut it completely again, stretching into a thin smile, “I’ll tell you when we go.” His eyes closed as he smiled at you. God, that smile. 

He was beautiful, even now with his long hair tangled and the dark circles resting under his eyes. His voice, yet serious and solemn, held on to the softness he spoke with. 

You feel tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill. You let go of the frustration of trying to understand him. Blinking back your tears you look at him standing a few feet away from you, small shadows littered his rooms from the curtains pulled to block any sunlight from peaking through successfully.

 “Don’t go,” A quiet whisper left your lips, but he heard it, “Whatever it is that you’re not telling me, fine, but don’t go, please.”

He knows he should feel stuck but he doesn’t, he's made up his mind. 

“Okay.” He softly whispers back. 

Snap

He cannot undo what he has done. 

You’re standing by the entrance of the school, your body feels limp. You’ve been standing here for two hours after you’d been told. It seems as if you were the last to know.

The autumn chill freezes your limbs and you feel as if you're unable to move and you can’t—you won’t. You’ll wait until you see him walking towards you, you’ll wait for an explanation, he’ll tell you it's not serious.

If its true—if even an ounce of it holds the truth you’ll wait for him to tell you about it or if he does what you asked him not to do he’ll at least say goodbye. 

But the days pass and the mornings become nights. The seasons change and you're starting your 4th and final year. 

Without Suguru.

 You can see the weight of his absence on everyone. The sight of three seats in the classroom almost has you hunching over onto the floor. You wondered if seeing his empty seat for another year was better than this but you'd come to the conclusion that nothing will be better than the other. 

He is gone and along with him he took a piece of you. The empty feeling in your body gnaws at you and you hold on tight. Your thread won’t snap. 

You wonder if he would ever come back, just to see you for a second. You wondered if he ever thought about you. You wondered if he regrets what he has done. 

But you know he’ll never come back, if you see him once again, maybe it will be far away from here. He could never come back. 

They’ve assigned his death. 

You don’t want him to come back.  

The days pass. Satoru adopts a child from the Zenin family, Ieri works hard perfecting her skills to dedicate to saving the lives of her comrades, Kento tells you one day late after classes he might choose to live a regular life after this. 

You’ll stay here, fulfilling your duty to the world as a sorcerer, you’ll be there for Satoru and “his” illegitimate child, you’ll support Ieri and you’ll mourn over Kento’s undecided plans for the future. 

You decide to fight with everything you have to see him once more. 

You wonder if you’re all special, living lives different from others. 

We’re cursed 

“You’re awful. 

 Why couldn’t you just tell me? Why did you leave? Why couldn’t you have said goodbye to me.

 I despise you. 

Please couldn’t you tell me? I want to see you, I want to talk to you. 

Suguru, please tell me. Please don’t go. I wish you told me. I should’ve been there for you. 

I hate you. I hate you, I hate you. I’ll curse you until the day you die, Suguru.” 

The recording on his phone from that night echoes in his empty suite. He’s kept that recording with him through the end of time, even after throwing his phone into a river, it’s the one thing he’s kept from that day. The sound of your voice travels through his bones, his body reacting to every syllable falling from your lips. 

The sorrowful voicemail plays over and over, it's all he has left of you. 

Years have passed and he’s decided to take action with his beliefs. That day he returned, he hoped to see you but you were nowhere near. He couldn't detect your energy anywhere or your energy residue. You hadn’t been there in years. 

The voicemail plays over and over, his eyes closed as he imagined you.

What could’ve been. 

But he knew he would have to have to live without you, he would have to live with the fact that you weren’t with him.

 He will have to accept the fact that you will never walk this earth again, leaving this world only a few months after graduating, the manifested emotions from those he lived to exterminate from this world responsible for your demise. 

He’ll think of you as he continues fighting for those who fight all their lives and he prays that you’ll continue to curse him till the day he dies.

Divider creds: @kodaswrld @thecutestgrotto

© manhattanstrawberry please do not plagiarize or repost my work

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[desertduality]

For the prompt suggestions/ a question I've had about Ad Astra: Did Etho ever give Scar any pointers for dealing with losing sight in one eye? The gentle teasing about 'stealing my brand' made me wonder if Etho ever gave any actual advice for dealing with the loss of half of his sight.

Yess I love this one!! Etho and Scar friendship my beloved, they're so underrated <33 Enjoy!!

Word Count: 904

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

When Etho arrives at Decked Out early in the morning, Scar is waiting for him at the entrance. He’s leaning against the wall on one side of the entryway, face pink from the cold, wings smooth and folded behind him. He finally got the stitches out of the injured one recently, if Etho remembers correctly. He looks leagues better than he had when they’d first pulled him out of that place. 

Etho still has nightmares about that. 

Scar raises his hand in a wave as Etho lands beside him, elytra disengaging and folding into his inventory. The look on Scar’s face tells him that he’s got something on his mind. Decked Out will have to wait. 

“Hey, Scar,” Etho greets. “Here to play a few rounds?”

“Eh, not today,” Scar says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Haven’t really been into games recently. Not one’s that kill me, at least.”

Etho nods, a bit of sadness resurfacing in his chest. He can remember that time before the final death game, Scar grinning at him brightly as he bragged about getting to level two. It contrasts sharply with the image of Scar in the Watcher Realm, bruised and battered and barely standing. If he were Scar, he’d be tired of games, too.

“You fly over here? I heard you got your stitches out,” Etho says. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Grian dropped me off,” Scar says, sighing dramatically as he stretches out his wings. “He still won’t let me fly yet. Says they’re not big enough. Maybe in a few more weeks.”

“It’ll be here before you know it,” Etho says encouragingly. “Then you can get back to hotguy-ing people all over the server.”

Scar laughs a little — more subdued that Etho remembers it being, but a wonderful thing to hear nonetheless. 

“That’s actually kind of what I’m here for,” Scar says.

Etho blinks. “...You’re here to hotguy me?”

“No— Well, maybe later.” Scar grins teasingly, then sighs. “I need some advice.”

“Advice?” Etho repeats, feeling a little out of his depth. “And you’re sure I’m the best option?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Scar starts, quirking a strange little half smile, “but you’re kind of my only option.”

Etho’s brow furrows in confusion, mind spinning in slow circles as he tries to figure out what he could possibly be qualified for that no one else is. 

Possibly sensing his uncertainty, Scar turns his head just a little bit more, and makes a vague gesture towards his face. “We match,” he says. 

“Oh.”

He recalls their brief conversation when Scar had woken up from his exhaustion, bombarded by a group hug and finding it in himself to meet Etho’s gaze and joke about his life-changing injury. When he’d first seen it in the depths of the Watcher Realm, Etho had known that Scar would have no vision in that eye. He had intimate knowledge of what an injury like that could do. 

“You’re having trouble with it?” Etho asks, voice automatically going softer.

“I bumped into seven trees yesterday,” Scar says, scowling. “I walked into two doorframes just this morning. I tried to pour myself a cup of water and I missed the glass.”

Etho winces. “Ah,” he says. “Yeah, I— I remember having that issue.”

“It’s driving me crazy,” Scar says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Someone comes up on my left side and they scare the living daylights out of me because I couldn’t see them right away.”

“Can I ask— Your whole…magic eye thing,” Etho starts, internally wincing at his verbal stumbling. “Does it help? I’ve seen you use it to help your vision before.”

It’s true. Every now and then he’ll catch Scar with his blind eye glowing purple. 

“It helps,” Scar says, scuffing at the ground with his shoe. “It gives me a killer headache if I do it too much, though. It’s like if you tried to go without blinking for like, hours at a time. Magically speaking.”

“I get it,” Etho says, nodding in understanding. He tilts his head. “I can try to give you some pointers.”

“Great!” Scar replies, face lighting up with relief. “You’re the best, Etho, I will sing your praises from the rooftops—”

“Please don’t,” Etho says, laughing. “I will warn you, most of it is just about getting used to it. It takes time. And you’ll still definitely bump into things every now and then.”

“Huh,” Scar says thoughtfully. “Do you?”

“No comment.”

“Oh, come on!” He flashes a cheeky smile, a little pained at the edges. “You know I can keep a secret.”

“It’s definitely too soon to joke about that,” Etho says, though his mouth twitches beneath his mask.

“Probably,” Scar says easily. “So what’s up first on the schedule, oh wise teacher?”

“You’re gonna practice some hand-eye coordination,” Etho says. “Sound good?”

Scar smiles, a pleased chirp emitting from his throat as he pushes himself off the wall, wings rustling excitedly. “Etho,” he says, “I thought you’d never ask.”

For a long while, Scar comes and finds him every few days, and together they do a few simple exercises to help Scar’s brain readjust to using one eye. They have fun, actually. Etho finds himself looking forward to it. 

And if everyone on the server mysteriously starts walking only on Scar’s right side? Well, Etho certainly had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

[weirdsht]

Hello! Good morning lol. I hope you're doing well :₱ i gotta say ur writing is good and addicting. I keep coming back it's eating me alive

I have a thought abt ur recent yan!cale post :₱

What if Cale actually got sum magical jewelry on the reader that prevents their risky, suic1d∆l powers from working? The reader realizes it's basically stuck to them and is unable to take it off, remaining stuck unless someone powerful in magic, like Eruhaben, removes it personally. They feel off about it at first, though they eventually accept it because it was Cale who really wanted it on them, and they believe that he's someone who wants nothing but the safety of his loved ones. But then---

Reader gets kidnapped, gets harmed in the worst way possible-

Lol sorry, idk why but yandere cale is so-

😆💞

Blood-Red Garnet - Yan!Cale/Reader

notes: my visualization for the bracelet

tags: gender-neutral reader, yandere cale, torture and injuries (nothing too graphic), hints of possessiveness, hints of unhealthy relationship and dependency but reader doesn't realise it

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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A shiny gold bracelet with a piece of blood-red jewel in the middle was dangled in [name]’s face by Cale. It was a gift, or so he says. Told the ability user that it’s both an accessory and a preventative measure.

“Preventative measure? For what?”

“For your abilities. I don’t want you dying on me because of your reckless power.”

[Name] wore the bracelet even though they were hesitant at first. Their ability was their primary way of fighting. However, Cale was right. That ability is too dangerous. Plus, they still know how to wield a sword and fight hand-to-hand combats so they should be fine.

“By the way you can only use your abilities if I allow it or if a dragon dispels the magic on that thing.”

Right..?

Apparently not.

[Name] desperately stares at the three pieces of garnet in their bracelet. As if it would magically come off if they stared at it hard enough.

When the ability user first got the bracelet they were happy whenever they looked at the garnet it holds. The colour reminds them of Cale’s hair. Reminds them that the young master gifted it to them because he was concerned for their well-being.

However, now the jewel brings them frustration. The enchantment was placed on those three small circles. If only [name] can remove them.

Then maybe they won’t be subjected to this torture anymore.

“Your beloved commander won't save you. Just tell us where he is right now and whether or not his unconscious. We’ll let you have a quick death once you do.”

“If I’m gonna die either way then I’ll gladly keep everything to my– AHHH!”

[Name]’s words got cut off as another one of their fingers was broken by the torturer interrogating them.

“Are you sure you can take more of this? I can still break your toes if you’re so adamant.”

The torturer mocked them. Gently caressing his fingers over their feet before looking back again at their messed-up fingers.

[Name] merely laughs. They might be beaten up and have no way of fighting as their ability is suppressed, but they won’t say anything. Not now, not ever.

“Torture me all you– keugh! All you want. You won’t get an ounce of information from me.”

Despite being beaten up and coughing up blood, the ability user still had a smile on their face. A mocking smile that seems to rival their torturer’s mocking tone earlier.

The torturer’s face contorts in anger. He looked as if his ready to kill the ability user. Honestly, [name] thinks that would be better. They were getting tired too, they didn’t know how much more pain they could take.

Craaaaack! Psshhh

Just about when the torturer was raising a sword to inflict more pain on [name], a red thunderbolt suddenly fried the man. He was thoroughly burned to a crisp, almost like chicken deep fried in oil.

It was so strong that everyone within the vicinity could feel the anger of those thunderbolts.

And [name] didn’t need to see where it came from to know that it was Cale who did that.

“[Name]! We’re here to rescue you! I’m sorry for being late, I’m sure Saint Jack can heal you…”

Raon spoke in their head while supporting their back. His voice sounded as if he was crying. [Name] could also feel their back becoming wet.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine”

The ability user comforted the toddler. They want to pet him but it’s impossible due to the state of their hands. Raon nodded, his cheeks squishing on [name]’s back. Once he regained his composure he used flight magic on them so they could get out of the cell.

Crash! Bang! Tak!

Outside was chaotic. At the centre of that chaos was Cale and all of his ancient powers running rampant. His face was contorted in something that can only be described as fury. All their other friends had to keep their distance because it almost looked as if the redhead was not in the right state of mind.

“The human has been like that ever since you got kidnapped! I don’t think I’ve seen him that angry.”

Raon tattled as they went closer to Cale. Despite looking like his out of his mind he had enough sanity left to create a path for [name] and Raon.

Cale’s face softened for a moment when he was face to face with [name]. However, it didn’t last long once he saw their state. There’s blood flowing out of their mouth. Wounds of varying degrees littered across their body. Not to mention the absolute wreck of a state their hands are in.

“I’ll be fine.”

[Name] tried to assure Cale who was stroking their cheek. But he isn’t having it. He could see how the ability user is using every fibre of their being to not wince. Probably so that Raon won’t cry anymore.

“Yes, you’ll be fine.”

Cale will make sure of it.

But for now, he must take care of these lowlifes that dare touch what’s his.

“Sleep. When you wake up we’ll be back home.”

Following Cale’s words, [name] closed their eyes. Succumbing to sleep as if the chaos happening behind them didn’t exist.

“Raon, Saint Jack is down there with Rosalyn. Tell him to make sure not a single scar will remain on [name]’s body.”

His negligence already allowed someone else to take his [name], he’ll be damned if he allows another man’s mark to linger on their body.

“Once we get home let’s ask Eruhaben-nim to put some defensive spell in that bracelet.”

“Let’s do that human! We’ll be going now! Be careful, I know you’re angry but you can’t cough blood!”

With that, the toddler used his magic to [name] to where Jack is. Leaving Cale to run wild.

Best to say that no enemy got out of that place alive after Cale was done with them.

[mangionebabymama]

hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)

It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.

I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”

i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.

but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.

it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(

Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)

No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.

I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.

Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.

[golden-wires]

I was annoying with the Metalocalypse Movie now let me get rant about much I loved this movie, if you haven’t seen it yet be warned of ⚠️Spoilers⚠️ moving forward! Ryan Coogler and Michael B Jordan you mother fuckers you got me hooked on this

I have to guilty admit when I first heard of the title about this movie I was quick to assume it was simply an action movie and that I’d see it eventually or some day. I assumed I wouldn’t be interested and shelved it in my mind- having actually seen the movie I would choke slam my past self for even THINKING to ignore this movie! It ABSOLUTELY deserved that 100% on Rotten Tomatoes

At the time of making this post it’s still in theaters and it’s a little hard right now to find quality images of scenes from this film on google so I’ll do my best here, I’ve seen this movie twice now and I ABSOLUTELY recommend watching it twice to appreciate some more moments

-Soundtrack 10/10

The fact the music wasn’t just background and SUPER IMPORTANT IN TELLING A STORY MULTIPLE TIMES WITHOUT SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU AS THE AUDIENCE

Getting into it now from the perspective of someone who’s seen it twice!

This opening scene in my first watch through I took the flashing images as just jumpscares as he seems to be reliving the very recent traumatic events of what he just went through.

I can now in my Second Watchthrough appreciate that in this moment Sammie sees his father and his religion in a new lens! Especially since the movements his father makes with his body and arms/words remind Sammy of Remmick’s mocking and eye opening statements about this religion that was forced on him as well. This moment he’s now never able to look at his father’s teachings the same.

A new form of imprisonment and assimilation/colonization all the same but with a new name in the guise of “freedom”

The music of generations scene had my jaw dropped as I started piecing together what was unfolding as the scene carried on and we see ancestors and future generations begin flooding in!

Not just for African Americans but also Asian Americans and it was really nice to see the small mixing pot of history that juke joint cultivated because of Sammie’s gift! You’ll hear me say over and over how much I love the soundtrack in this post

Pearline’s number along with the building tension of the movie as we see Sammie go back and forth between the two rooms to lead us into the next act of the film is never gonna lose its magic in the energy and cinematography. Watching this for the first time in theaters closer to the screen felt as if the ground was shaking from actual stomping of feet on the ground from a crowd-

I don’t think I see too many people talking about the music that plays during Annie and Smoke’s reunion and love scene because it’s REAL GOOD, really nice moment for them I just don’t see too many people talking about it is all. And of course this moment also comes with some info about Smoke and Stacks business back from Chicago (hope I’m remembering that right)

Onto the secondary antagonist of the film Remmick, I am eating the writing of this Remmick character and who he was. I gotta state I don’t agree with him but can love his writing and how in manifests.

First of all seeing them all circling in the distance DASHED those hopes that only some got attacked- they got EVERYONEEEE

This man has been through the thick of it and facing his own problems being Irish in the Deep South and now far separated from his own self and ancestors.

But he’s now lived long enough to now put this same conformity and loss of individuality onto another oppressed group, he just can’t see it that way. By trying to make a new group of love and community with HIS hive mind he’s now stripped them of letting them connect with their own ancestors in death.

And what better way to show and display it than by the river dance scene, he wants to connect back with his culture and ancestors he’s willing to steal Sammie and his choice to get that back by any means necessary. Trapping all of them to partake in almost a bastardized version of Sammie’s connecting of generations scene, he wants the same connection with the past and future. It just simply can’t happen because he’s trapped innocents into their own bodies and putting his own actions and his memories onto them for this when their real connection to shared culture was back inside the warm lit barn.

Ngl a banger song accompanied with a beautiful and haunting narrative of people from Mississippi who are in this hive mind with this Irish Vampire, there’s a lot of layers going on in the scene on without him directly spelling it out. By far one of the best written scenes

And also I just love anything vampires/zombies/cowboys/ and bonus points on if the vampires and cowboy media is a period piece so seeing vampires in this setting somewhere not Eurocentric is really a breath of fresh air in writing.

Also using vampirism in the way this movie did on its themes of colonization was EVEN BETTER

Nothing but appreciation for Grace, she knew the real threat of this reaching back the town and just sometimes you can’t come out unscathed in what you do to protect others or when you think you’re doing the right thing, when she screamed the audience just all had the same reaction of “aw fuck”

The baptism scene where some would think “oh the prayer will stop him” HEARING HIM REPEAT IT BACK! ALONG WITH THE CROWD! Listen I grew up religious but no longer am myself- this scene was really everything and of course spells out more for the movies themes of colonization and power over another on religion now taking stage and just another form of it here- to have one of the antagonist having once used it as comfort as well and telling his truth of experience with it- GREAT

I feel like I’m not making a lot of sense here just it was a really good scene especially when it’s the lasting message Sammie took from Remmick and will then see that same image and message when looking at his father later when he returns. To be fair Sammie also made it known at the juke joint he didn’t have much intention to keep to the church when talking to Smoke but I have to think that night really solidified that in Sammie’s head

Buddy Guy in this post credit scene- man.

I can’t find a screenshot online for it but when he plays and it starts showing the best day of his life play out- AUGH this movie from start to finish has you interested and appreciating everything they put into here

Rude it wouldn’t let me add more photos since I realized I forgot about the Choctaw group until after I posted this, the group didn’t have the most screen time but boy they really have the most joke and meme posts of “not my problem anymore”.

Listen they tried to warn them, but with that sun going down I’d also not stick to die with idiots and racists

A sequel isn’t happening, but man I’d love a movie with them in this universe with vampires

And please oh please tell me what any of you thought of this movie

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Twenty-Two

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Healing wounds, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You heal with Azriel by your side after the Blood Rite.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

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Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty - Twenty-One

She’s your mate. 

It was the only consistent thing that flowed through Azriel’s mind the entire week. It snapped the moment you were winnowed away for the Rite. They never do it the same week of the year, never start it on the same day. And he felt it, saw a glimmer of gold in your eyes just for a moment before you were gone.

It took everything in him to not disturb the Rite. Rhys practically had to use his High Lord’s voice. He was waiting for his own mate to open up to him. But at least Feyre was safe. She wasn’t in the middle of the deadliest challenge for any Illyrian. Any Fae. Cassian, Rhys, and him barely survived it and they were the deadliest warriors alive. 

But he knew you were alive. Even if the bond was buried because of the spells surrounding the Rite. He knew that if you died, he would feel it. Feel the emptiness. He kept his faith in you. Cassian and him trained you. Well. He tested you in the mountains. He watched you complete the qualifying course. Witnessed as you took down male after male in sparring challenges. You would be fine. He repeated the two things you promised him. 

She will survive. She will reach the mountain.

He added a third thing, for himself. 

She’s my mate.

It turned into a mantra in his head. To be able to sit and wait. And do absolutely nothing else. 

Survive. Mountain. Mate. 

Azriel stared down at your body as it twitched unconsciously from the wounds. So many broken bones. You wouldn’t fly for a month. If… if your wings weren’t broken beyond repair. His shadows told him the broken wings were recent. He could have sworn one of your tendons was cut. Just as the Rite came to an end. There were three males that were sneering with laughter at your state. They didn’t stay alive long when Rhys heard them. They were nothing but red dust two seconds later. 

And then there was your brother, Varyn. He was about a finger’s length away from touching the monolith atop Ramiel. But he held back because he wouldn’t have made it because of you. And if you weren’t going to be crowned Carynthian, neither was he. 

Azriel fell to his knees beside you, involuntary tears falling from his cheeks. He reached down, wanting to heal everything but not knowing where to start. His shadows swirled around your wounds, his Siphon patching up small cuts. He didn’t even tell or try to do any of it. You were unconscious. And he bet you wouldn’t be awake for a while. He prayed to the Mother that you would wake up at all. 

Rhys kneeled on the other side of you. “We’ll take her to the town home.” He said. “Madja will take care of her. Az…” 

Azriel told the rest of the Inner Circle the day after you were taken. He had been agitated and ready to go fight for his life. For your life. Be sentenced to death just to take you out of the wretched ritual. 

“Az… she’s breathing. Her heart is beating. She will be okay.” Rhysand said, reached out to hold his brother’s shoulder, and took your hand as he winnowed to the town home. 

You awoke to a blinding pain. In every single spot of your body. It was too much, too much to bear. Someone was patching your wounds. Magic was patching your wounds. You heard your mate’s voice, soothing you through it. That was the only thing you continued to hear as you fell unconscious again. 

Azriel sat at your bedside for the entire week. Missing the visit with the queens where Rhys showed them Velaris. You only awoke to writhe in pain every now and then. Madja was doing everything she could to keep you sedated. Your wounds were healing but it was slower than normal. You were basically a human when they were inflicted, and the process of healing was different because of it. Not to mention the odd herbs that the three males drugged you with that were still in your system when the wounds were inflicted. Madja knew they were also slowing the healing down. 

Azriel only left the town home to defend the city when it was attacked. And to go to Hybern to infiltrate it. Feyre was taken to the Spring Court. His High Lady. His brother’s mate. And his own mate couldn’t even open her eyes because of the pain she was in. Rhys brought in another bed just so Azriel could heal with you after Hybern tore his wings. 

Each of the Inner Circle took turns watching the two of you, trying to get Azriel to get up to eat, or to rest. He needed to heal from Hybern’s destruction of his wings, but he wouldn’t leave your side. 

Rhys even allowed Varyn to come visit when his wound healed within a few days. He only stayed long enough to learn that you were getting better. Then he returned to Valorworth for training. 

Azriel didn’t leave the room once Feyre was gone… And when he was healed, Rhys needed him on missions. But, Az was too distracted with your healing to do any real work, so his shadows took his place.  

Another thing that Azriel couldn’t wrap his head around. Your shadows were gone. There were none swirling around you, none comforting your wounds with their cool touch. He wondered if the spell from the Rite worked too well and kept them away. But his came back the second it ended. Were you no longer a Shadowsinger? Or did you no longer need the shadows to survive? Questions swirled in his brain, every second he sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up. Not in pain. Or long enough for him to hold you and declare you his mate. When the spell from the Rite ended at dawn, it became so strong he knew you felt it too. It was still buried, and wouldn’t take full effect until both of you accepted it, but it was there. 

Feyre had been in the Spring Court for two weeks when you finally woke up. 

Azriel was sleeping in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position while Cassian was sharpening a blade beside him. You jolted up at the sound of the blade against the sharpener, eyes wide. The last thing you remembered was the pure agony you were in. And then a terrible dream about Azriel’s wings shredding. Was that on top of Ramiel? Was it somewhere else? Was it even real?

Cassian hit Azriel’s arm, so hard that the former growled as he shifted. He was about to tell his brother off when he saw you were awake. And you looked terrified. 

Azriel said your name once as he got up, moving closer to you. His wings were still scarred from healing. You must have not heard him because your eyes were glued to the blade that Cassian was holding. Cassian noticed your gaze and quickly put the blade into its sheath. 

You flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulder, backing into the bed as much as you could. Until your eyes met the hazel ones you had been so deeply dreaming of. Your mate’s eyes. Azriel’s eyes. 

“Azriel…” you whispered. The small, gentle smile on his face broke you. You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your head into his chest as you cried. You let out wail after wail, muttering everything that happened when you were in the Rite. The males you killed. Your brother. Your wounds. He could barely understand all of it, but his shadows translated for him. You sobbed into his chest until you had fallen back asleep. He had laid down beside you, holding you. He didn’t want you waking up again without knowing you were safe. In Velaris. With him. 

Your wounds were mostly healed by that morning when you woke up. All but your leg and your wing. You were in no more physical pain. But you knew that the past four weeks of you sleeping would be the most you’d get in a while. You curled into Azriel’s side, breathing in his scent. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes again. You had been through so much, and yet all you wanted to do was lay with Azriel and give him a cookie. A biscuit. Anything so you could declare your love and your acceptance.

Azriel felt you shift, leaning his head down to look at you. There was no terror in your eyes this time. It was only what he knew to be love. “Hi sweetheart.” He whispered, moving some hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

You moved your wings, wincing as your left wing shuttered from the stretch. “Like a whole female.” You half joked, a small smile coming to your lips. “I have something to tell you.” You whispered. You couldn’t wait longer to say it. Azriel responded with a hum of anticipation. “Azriel… I love you.” You whispered. 

His smile grew, lighting up those gorgeous hazel eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw a golden hue flash through them. “I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered. 

“And…” you said, sitting up ever so slightly so you could fully see him. “You are my mate.” 

His smile was the biggest you’d ever seen. “And you’re mine.”

A/N: We are wrapping things up! I have a few more chapters left (as indicated on the masterlist). I'm thinking of either a second series or a few sequel drabbles...

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@herondale-lightworm

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

It's tuesday again but you probably didn't forget but just in case

Sorry

Love. Light of my life. do not EVER apologize. I adore your confidence in me that you think I actually REMEMBER to post tidbit Tuesday. do NOT feel bad about buggin me I NEED too be bugged!! anyhow!! the promised tidbit Tuesday under the cut!!

"I dunno what to say." Darry shifts. Rocks back 'n braces the palms of his hands against the cold earth. Twists to look over his shoulder when the rare 'n elusive Tusla breeze pushes through the sentential of trees, makes the new buds of Spring whisper 'n sigh. Someone's disconnected laugh hops the fence, skitters its way across the open space 'n though he looks, Darry can't find its owner.

He sighs, pulls a piece of dry grass from under his fingers, twists it up like his daddy had once taught him to, how he'd showed Soda a million years ago, to form the start of a flower crown. It rips before he can add another.

Pony would have somethin' to say about that. An omen or a bad sign. 'N Darry ain't superstitious but he learned a long time ago that, more often then not, Pony was right. Had some kinda sense about him Darry had given up tryin' to understand way back when Pony was six 'n Darry was twelve 'n couldn't be bothered to listen to his kid brother grippin' his sleeve 'n beggin' him not to go down to the corner store.

Or at least he hadn't 'til he'd been walkin' tall 'n feelin' grown with the recent freedom of a kid who's yet to realize the end of his block ain't the ends of the world. He'd stopped right there on the sidewalk. Looked back to the house 'n seen Pony standin' wide-eyed on the step 'n had felt. Somethin'. A cold flicker down his spine. The rush of someone runnin' past him when there ain't no one there. The high whine of a fire engine. A train whistle moanin'. Pony trembles on the stair. Shakes his head once.

He'd spun right back there 'n then.

In an hour, mama would answer the phone to a frantic friend beggin' to know if she'd heard? That store at the corner was held up! Someone was shot! Right there! Broad daylight!

Darry had hovered by the phone receiver, listenin' to his mama's breath sharpen, her eyes dart to find Soda 'n Pony curled up on the couch. The hollow ringin' of a rerun reran three times through already 'n his kid brothers still glued to it like it was brand spankin' new.

He'd grab Pony by his shoulders later, down on his knees 'n peerin' up into his brother's face round 'n flushed with childhood. How'd you know? How could you tell? Pony would simply lift one shoulder. Let it fall. An hour was a lifetime when you were six. 'N death is somethin' that only happens to someone else.

Didn't. Just felt somethin'. Bad.

"Y'know Pony's still got one last baby tooth?" He twists 'round again, shakes himself. Tucks his feet up under him like he ain't done since he was a kid circled 'round on the floor 'n leanin' in close to share secrets long forgotten. "He's got the grown one layered up behind the kid one 'n God. I can't stand to look at it. He's always wigglin' at it just to piss me off I think."

He pauses. Fiddles with the bottom of his jeans. He needs to hem 'em. He needs to weed the garden. He needs to pay the gas bill 'n fill the truck up 'n read Pony's history paper 'n iron Soda's work shirt.

"Sorry. He does it just to bug me." He feels silly. Too old to be talkin' to no one. Too young to have to. But that's how he always feels nowadays. Walkin' that taught line between too old 'n too young. Tryin' not to look down. 'Cause he weren't never good with heights. 'N he hates to fall.

[cowboyemeritus]

uhhhh I was under the weather recently and it got me thinkin’

You laugh a little as Copia holds the glass of water to your lips. With a shaky hand, you take it from him, acetaminophen tablets clasped in the other. “It’s just the flu, babe.” He pouts as you pop the pills in your mouth, sip the water, and then swallow, grimacing as they go down your inflamed throat. You sniffle, and he instantly reaches for a tissue. “Seriously.” Snatching it away, you can’t help but feel a little guilty at the wounded look on his face. After blowing your nose you crumple the tissue into a ball, chucking it at the wastebasket. It bounces off the rim, landing on the floor. Copia starts to get up but you stop him, placing your hand on his. “I’ll get it later.”

“I am just trying to be useful, amore.” Oh, your darling Copia. He’s been distressed from the moment the headache settled behind your eyes. His Church duties have been… set aside for the time being, him fussing over every stage of your illness. You both know the paperwork is piling up, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. More than a few nights in a row you’ve caught him laying awake just to listen to you breathe. Every time you tell him you’re fine, that you can take care of yourself, but the dark circles under his eyes persist, his body rigid with nervous tension. At this point, he’s suffering more than you.

He can’t help it. You know that. This is just another one of those things, another new tic, that has developed in the wake of his ascension. As a firsthand witness to her decline, he watched helplessly for months as his mother — damn that woman — withered away, unable to do anything about it. In typical Imperator fashion, she kept him in the dark; every attempt to question her wellbeing, her ability to run the church, had been waved off. It was easier to let himself be lured into a false sense of security, to believe that she was invincible. Her death had truly blindsided him, leaving him unanchored and drifting in a sea of upheaval.

Copia. Your poor, sweet Copia. He’s not about to make that same mistake again.

“My love,” you say, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from his face. He leans into your touch like a puppy, eyes wide and watery. “Oh, come here.” Your body protests but you scoot over on the bed, patting the spot you’ve made for him. When Copia hesitates you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you. You’re not worried about the malady spreading; if he was going to get sick, he would have already.

He comes to lay next to you, head resting on your chest so that his ear is directly over your heart. One of your hands begins to card through his hair, the mousy brown locks looking grayer every day. You know it preoccupies him; he frets over it in the mirror every morning when he thinks you’re still asleep. You tell him it’s handsome, and sometimes that helps. When that doesn’t work, you remind Copia that your love isn’t based on something so superficial. It’s him, just him, that your heart belongs to. And when returns to the mirror the next morning, you swear to yourself that someday he’ll never feel worried or sad or insecure ever again. You’ll do anything, kill anyone, to make that happen.

“I love you,” you whisper, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. “Thank you for taking care of me.” You get no response and for a moment something sharp, scared, pokes around in your stomach. Then he snores a little and it all melts away. Nothing else matters but you and him, safe and warm and together for good. He makes another quiet noise and you smile, unable to contain your joy that he has found a scrap of peace in this chaos. Carefully, as not to disturb him, you reach over to turn off the bedside lamp, feeling your own eyes begin to droop. You sigh, the last of the pressure in your skull ceding as the room falls into darkness. “‘M not going anywhere, darling. We’re in this thing together.”

Baby steps, you think, just before falling asleep. Tomorrow will be better.