#it had to happen girlypop

[tojiscrack]

my dear sumaya. If i EVERRRRRRRR see the word "lovebirds" when talking about y/n and kamo AGAIN. I will build a time machine to go back in time to when gege wrote him into existence and convince him otherwise. when i read "blah blah two eyes looking blahhhh one amused one annoyed" MY HEART SHATTERED.

INTO A THOUSAND PIECES. ON HIS BIRTHDAY??????? ON HIS BIRTHDAY. This is unacceptable and my LAWYERS WILLL BE CONTACTED FOR uh harassment bc all this build up to angst might as well be harassment.

but frl im scared of megumi's reaction.. like when y/n hangs out with kamo TO00000 MUCH (even though i feel it is already too much) and something finally snaps bc i know tears will shed and i am not ready

ANYWAYS LOVE YOU (STILL MAD AT YOU🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪./j) I HOPE UR TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF. Happy holidays if you celebrate anything!!!! MWAHMWAH

‘if i EVERRRR see the word “lovebirds” when talking about y/n and kamo AGAIN’ — i’m gonna stop you right there HAHAHA. this must be done for plot building 😭😭 (and i hated that sociology exam sm that i was just writing in anger LMAOO)

kamo in canon is not at fault here 😔 leave the poor guy alone ☹️

‘ON HIS BIRTHDAY???’ — HAHAHAHAHAHAH I DIDN’T EVEN SEE IT THAT WAY 😭

i was just writing my frustration out and trying to get the chapter done on time for his birthday, but did not realise how it’s literally the most annoyed he’s been about kamo and y/n 💀

‘all this build up to angst might as well be harassment’ — you’re calling ur lawyers on me at the wrong time 🌝 just wait… 👀

tbh, if kamo hadn’t said what he’d said in the changing rooms about yuji and megumi being close with a specific someone he likes, megumi wouldn’t have cared. i think in this moment, he’s also just annoyed about the fact that kamo (allegedly) likes his sister, so why is he turning around and flirting with his friend? 🤨

and the jealous feeling he has in his chest ‘cause she was supposed to be bothering HIM during the game and not kamo

ILYT, i was expecting more knives but i’m guessing you’re saving them 🌝

[haughttopics]

finally watched happiest season and i totally understand why people hated the ending.

except for Jane. she deserves the world.

[theonehitwonder]

did I just trigger a repressed memory of remembering a repressed memory???

[profound-imagination]

In The Shadow Of You - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Girlypops I fear I’ve cooked with this one, apparently I can write now?? Longest fic to date!

T/W: Angst with a happy ending.

W/C: 11.7k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“What…what are you doing here?” Eight-year-old Azriel stuttered at his two older brothers. His voice trembled, caught between fear and confusion. Their smiles were cruel, sharp like knives meant to cut.

The younger of the two moved faster than Azriel could react, and in a flash, he found himself pinned to the dirty ground of his cell, his small hands forced outstretched.

The eldest loomed over him, grinning with twisted satisfaction. “We’re conducting an experiment, little brother,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet. “And you’re going to help us.”

Azriel barely had time to process his words before it happened. Fire. Blinding, searing pain erupted across his palms, crawling up his arms like molten rivers. He screamed, hoarse and broken, the sound reverberating off the stone walls of his cage. He screamed until his voice gave out, until the smoke settled, and the flames were doused.

“It’s too late for your hands,” the healers told him afterward, almost casually, as if they hadn’t just destroyed something vital and irreparable. The gauze wrapped around his hands felt suffocating, an unbearable weight, and the agony robbed him of any reprieve. They left him there—crying, trembling, and utterly alone.

The pain kept him awake, tossing and turning on the filthy floor. Every shift in position was a new jolt of agony, every heartbeat a reminder of what he’d lost. He was trying not to sob when a voice broke through the dark.

“If you keep focusing on the pain, it’ll never go away.”

Azriel froze, stiffening like a cornered animal. The voice was soft, melodic even, but it didn’t belong. He shoved himself back against the cold wall of his cell, making himself as small as possible.

“Relax,” the voice said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was then that he saw her—a girl, no older than him, standing just beyond the dim glow of the torchlight. Shadows clung to her like a second skin, weaving in and out of her form as if they were alive. They shaped her dress, her hair, her very presence.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice a broken rasp. Why that had been his first question, he didn’t know.

She grinned, a mischievous tilt of her lips that didn’t match the bleakness of his surroundings. “I can get into anywhere I want,” she said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. The shadows rippled with the movement, and Azriel couldn’t look away.

“Do you like them?” she asked, beaming as she spun in place. Her shadows flared around her like an elaborate display.

He nodded dumbly. “Are they…shadows?”

“Yes, they are!” she said brightly. Then, her expression softened as she looked him over. “How’d you end up in here?”

Azriel recoiled at the question, his fragile defenses snapping into place. “None of your business,” he bit out. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but you need to leave before you get in trouble.”

She laughed—a clear, chiming sound that felt wrong in the darkness. “I guess you don’t want the gift I brought you, then.”

He blinked, taken aback. No one had ever given him a gift before.

“…What is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her grin widened. The cell darkened further, the air growing heavy with the press of shadow. A wind swept through the hall, howling like a warning. When the darkness cleared, Azriel could see her more clearly, her form sharper as some of her shadows seemed to have dispersed.

“Learn to use them well,” she said, her voice low and solemn now. “Become a Shadowsinger. I’ve given you the tools—you need to do the rest.”

Azriel’s heart pounded as the shadows around him seemed to come alive, whispering to him in a language he couldn’t yet understand.

“Wait!” he called out, scrambling to his knees. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, her grin softening into something more sincere. “Y/N,” she said at last.

He nodded, clutching the name like a lifeline. “Mine’s Azriel.”

“I know,” she said softly. And then, as quickly as she’d appeared, the shadows consumed her, and she was gone.

When Azriel was eleven, he was dumped unceremoniously at Windhaven, an Illyrian war camp. He was already far behind the other boys, who could fly and wield weapons with ease. Meanwhile, Azriel could barely lift a blade.

His humiliation was swift and brutal. A boy much larger than him—Cassian, he later learned—knocked him to the ground with a single punch. Another boy, Rhysand, watched from a distance, laughing. Azriel hated them both instantly.

He lay sprawled in the snow, blood dripping from his lip, when he heard her voice again.

“Well, I think that went well,” Y/N said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut up,” he hissed, lifting his head to glare at her.

She circled him slowly, her shadows twisting around her. “You know,” she drawled, “if you worked harder with your shadows, they’d have warned you those jerks were coming.”

Azriel scowled, brushing the snow off his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you’re getting on.” She crouched in front of him, tilting her head as she studied him. “Apparently not well.”

He sat up, glaring at her. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Figure it out,” she said with a shrug. “You’re a Shadowsinger.”

“What does that even mean? What even is a Shadowsinger?” he demanded, his frustration boiling over.

Her gaze softened slightly. “You are,” she said simply. “You’ll figure it out.”

Branches snapped behind him, and Y/N’s expression shifted. “You need to befriend them,” she said, nodding toward the approaching boys. “And I need to go.”

Before he could stop her, she was gone.

Azriel’s bond with Y/N grew in fragments, scattered moments where she appeared unannounced, always leaving just as abruptly. She was a ghost in his life, a shadow that flitted in and out, giving him cryptic advice and disappearing before he could ask the questions that burned in his chest.

By the time Azriel turned fifteen, her absence felt heavier. She hadn’t visited in over a year, and he began to wonder if she’d ever been real at all. Perhaps she’d been a figment of his imagination, conjured by a desperate, broken child who needed someone—anyone—to pull him from the darkness.

But the shadows she’d gifted him were real. They whispered to him, wrapped around him protectively when he faltered. They showed him things he couldn’t see on his own. And yet, every time he reached for them fully, they pulled back, as if waiting for him to prove himself worthy.

Azriel sat alone on the outskirts of Windhaven, his wings aching from a day of relentless training. Cassian had beaten him—again—and Rhysand had laughed, though there was no malice in it anymore. They weren’t enemies anymore, not really, but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to call them friends, either.

He stared at his hands, the scars crisscrossing his palms a constant reminder of what he’d lost. The moonlight caught on the edges of his bandaged knuckles, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself cry.

“That’s a new look for you.”

The voice cut through the night like a blade, and Azriel’s head snapped up.

There she was, leaning against a nearby tree, her arms crossed and her head tilted in mock amusement. The shadows danced around her, as lively as ever, and he swore they seemed happy to see him.

He scrubbed at his face quickly, heat rising to his cheeks. “You’re back,” he said, his voice rough.

“I never left,” she said, shrugging as if it were obvious. “You just stopped looking for me.”

He bristled, the sting of her words sharper than he expected. “I didn’t stop looking,” he muttered, standing to face her fully.

“Didn’t you?” she teased, though her eyes softened. “You’ve been busy. Learning to fly, getting your ass handed to you in sparring. Very entertaining, by the way.”

Azriel clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Why do you do that?” he snapped.

Her brows lifted, her grin faltering. “Do what?”

“Disappear. Act like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Y/N blinked, her expression unreadable. “Azriel,” she said carefully, stepping closer, “I—”

“No,” he cut her off, his shadows flaring around him, mirroring his frustration. “I’ve waited for you. For years. And you show up whenever it suits you, like I’m just some…some project to you!”

Her gaze flickered, and for a moment, he thought he saw guilt in her eyes. But it was gone just as quickly.

“I’m not your project,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I’m not…I’m not some broken thing you can fix and forget about.”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her shadows curled around her, dimming the space between them.

“I gave you the tools to survive,” she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. “I never promised anything else.”

Azriel felt the air leave his lungs, his chest tightening painfully. “Why?” he asked, barely more than a whisper. “Why did you save me? Why do you keep coming back?”

She hesitated, her shadows stilling around her. Then, with a sad smile, she said, “Because you remind me of someone I couldn’t save.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel stared at her, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest.

“So that’s all I am?” he choked out. “A replacement?”

She didn’t answer. She only stepped back, the shadows consuming her once more. “You’re stronger than you think, Azriel,” she said, her voice echoing as she vanished. “You don’t need me.”

But he did. He needed her more than anything, and as the silence settled around him, Azriel sank to his knees, his shadows curling around him like a shroud.

The years passed, and Azriel grew into his role as the Illyrian spymaster. The shadows became an extension of him, whispering secrets, cloaking him in anonymity, making him deadly. But with every mission, every battle, he found himself waiting for her. Searching.

Sometimes, she came.

She appeared the night before his first battle in the war. Azriel sat alone by the fire, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug, his shadows restless in the dark. He could feel the weight of the coming fight pressing on his chest, the fear he couldn’t voice clawing at his throat.

“Pensive as always,” came that familiar, teasing voice.

He nearly dropped his mug, whipping around to see her leaning against a tree. She hadn’t changed—she never did. The same sharp grin, the same restless shadows, but as she stepped closer, Azriel noticed something: she was now the same age as him. The years had caught up to her, and she looked as real and tangible as anyone else.

She met his gaze, and for the first time, Azriel found himself at a loss for words. She wasn’t just the mysterious, untouchable figure who had first appeared in his cell; she was a woman now, with fire in her eyes and a strength that matched his own.

“You’re late,” he muttered, though the relief in his voice betrayed him.

“Am I?” She crossed her arms, her smile faltering as she stepped closer. “You’ve grown,” she said, her tone softer now. Her gaze lingered on the hard lines of his face, the broadness of his shoulders.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare at her, his heart racing for reasons he couldn’t understand. He had always seen her as this untouchable being—someone apart from the world. But now, looking at her, something shifted in him. She was beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

Her eyes widened for a split second, and for the briefest moment, Azriel saw her guard drop. Then she tilted her head, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.

“Finally noticing, huh?” she teased, her voice light but there was something deeper in her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

He cleared his throat, embarrassed by his admission. “Why are you here?”

“To remind you,” she said, crouching in front of him. Her shadows curled around her like a shield, as if they could protect her from the truth in her own words. “That you can’t protect everyone. That sometimes, no matter how hard you try, people die.”

The words hit him like a blow, and he flinched. “What kind of encouragement is that?”

“It’s the truth,” she said simply, standing again. “And it’s something you’ll need to learn if you’re going to survive this war.”

He stared at her, anger and hurt warring in his chest. “Is that why you gave me these shadows? To prepare me for failure?”

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped closer, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Live through tomorrow, Azriel. That’s all you have to do.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Y/N didn’t visit when he met Morrigan, but Azriel thought of her often. As he fell for Mor, captivated by her fire and fearlessness, a part of him wondered what Y/N would think of her. Would she approve? Would she mock him for falling for someone so unattainable?

The next time Y/N appeared, it was years later, after Mor had made it clear that her heart would never belong to him.

“She doesn’t deserve your devotion, you know,” Y/N said, materializing beside him one night as he sharpened Truth-Teller.

Azriel didn’t flinch this time, didn’t even look at her. “You don’t know her.”

“I know you,” she replied, tilting her head. “And I know she doesn’t see you the way you want her to. She never will.”

He slammed the blade down, his shadows flaring. “Why do you care? You disappear for years and show up just to remind me of everything I can’t have?”

Her smile faltered, her shadows stilling around her. “I care because I’ve seen this before,” she said quietly. “I’ve watched someone pour their heart into a dream that was never theirs to hold. It doesn’t end well.”

Azriel swallowed hard, her words cutting too close. “And what about you?” he asked. “What’s your excuse for running every time I need you?”

Her shadows tightened around her like armor, and she took a step back. “You’ve never needed me, Azriel,” she said, her voice cool. “You’ve always been stronger than you think.”

And then she was gone again, leaving him with nothing but his shadows and the ache in his chest.

By the time the second war began, Azriel’s heart was no longer tangled in Mor. Instead, it was pulled toward Elain—gentle, golden Elain, who looked at him with something close to understanding. She had never spoken of love, never promised him anything, but her presence calmed something in him. He found solace in her gentleness.

But Y/N’s presence still lingered, a phantom in his mind. She visited less frequently now, each appearance more fleeting than the last. Still, he thought of her as he prepared for war, wondering if she’d show herself one last time.

She did.

It was after the final battle, when Azriel had been struck down and left bleeding in the mud. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his thoughts consumed by Elain’s face. He imagined her by his side, her soft hands tending to his wounds.

When he finally opened his eyes, it wasn’t Elain sitting beside him.

It was Y/N.

Her hands trembled as they pressed against his wound, her shadows swirling erratically around her. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“You’re awake,” she breathed, her voice cracking.

Azriel blinked, disoriented. “Y/N…?”

Her lip trembled, and she looked away, focusing on his bandages. “You almost died,” she said, her tone raw. “You stupid, reckless fool.”

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down, her hands firm against his chest. “Stay still,” she snapped, though her voice shook.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She froze, her gaze locking onto his. For the first time, he saw the cracks in her armor—the grief and pain she’d always hidden.

“Because I’ve been here before,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “With someone I couldn’t save. I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch it happen again.”

Azriel’s heart stopped. “Who?” he asked softly.

Her shadows curled around her protectively, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. Because in that moment, Azriel realized that Y/N’s walls weren’t built to keep him out—they were built to keep her pain in.

“Y/N…” he started, his chest tightening. “What happened?”

She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand shook as it pressed against his wound. “It’s not you, Azriel. It’s me. I can’t lose anyone else.” Her voice cracked with the weight of unsaid words.

Azriel’s breath faltered as he reached up, gripping her wrist weakly. “You’re not losing me,” he whispered, trying to ease her trembling hand. His eyes searched hers, desperate to understand.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she murmured, her voice raw, but there was a flicker of something between them—something unspoken, something more than just the shadows between them.

He winced as pain lanced through him, but his focus never left her. “You’re afraid. I can see it, Y/N. What happened to you? What are you hiding from me?”

Her eyes flashed, and she jerked her hand away from him, stepping back as if she couldn’t bear to be near him. “I’m not hiding anything,” she snapped, but there was a tremor in her voice. “I’m trying to save you, Azriel. Just let me do this.”

He watched her, struggling to sit up once more, despite the pain gnawing at him. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve never seen you unsure. Never seen you afraid.”

She flinched at his words, but she didn’t look away. For the first time in all the years he’d known her, Y/N seemed human—fragile, vulnerable, as if she was teetering on the edge of something too painful to face.

“I’ve always been sure of one thing,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “That I couldn’t let you die like this. But maybe… maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “Don’t say that.”

But her eyes were distant, haunted, as if she had already seen the future he feared most. She took a shaky breath, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Rest now, Azriel. I’ll be here when you wake.”

And despite the warmth of her touch, despite the care she showed him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was already slipping away from him. That, no matter what, she would always be just beyond his reach.

The night was quiet—too quiet for Azriel’s liking. He had been staring at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep, despite the comfort of the warm bed and the endless fussing from his family. Elain had been by his side all day, her delicate hands tending to him with concern, constantly checking his wounds and offering comfort, but it didn’t ease the ache in his chest.

The ache wasn’t from the physical pain, but from the lingering thoughts of Y/N—the girl who had been with him through so much, only to retreat into the shadows yet again. He hadn’t seen her since that night at the war camp, when she had pulled him back from the edge. His shadows were restless, whispering to him, and he felt an odd sense of longing for her presence.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he heard the faintest rustle in the air—the whisper of shadows—and then, the unmistakable warmth of her presence. He stiffened, his breath catching, his heart skipping a beat as the room seemed to shift around him.

And then, there she was—Y/N.

She stepped into the room so quietly that Azriel wasn’t sure if he was imagining it at first. But no, he could feel her—sense her—just as he always had, only there was something different. She didn’t look the same as she had before.

Her once abundant shadows, swirling around her with their usual energy, now seemed… muted. Faint. Almost like they were retreating into her skin, leaving her exposed in a way Azriel had never seen. Her usual wraith-like appearance, so fluid and untouchable, had softened. The shadows didn’t cling to her the same way. Instead, they hovered at a distance, as though afraid to touch her.

He noticed it immediately. It was subtle—almost too subtle for anyone else to catch—but to Azriel, who had always seen the world through the lens of shadows, it was glaring.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice catching in his throat as he studied her, trying to make sense of the change. His shadows hummed softly, picking up on the strange shift in the air around them. “What happened to your shadows?”

Y/N paused, the faintest hint of a wince passing over her features. She didn’t answer him right away, her gaze flickering down to the floor as if she was gathering her thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m fine.”

Azriel frowned, unwilling to let it go. He was too perceptive, too attuned to the ebb and flow of shadows to ignore it. “You’re not fine,” he said, his voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing on him. “There’s less of them.”

Her eyes flickered with something that was either guilt or sorrow—it was hard to tell, but whatever it was, it made Azriel’s stomach twist.

She took a slow breath and approached the bed, her presence now as heavy as the shadows she had once carried so effortlessly. There was a shift in her energy, and the deeper he looked, the more he noticed. The scars on her skin were faint, almost imperceptible in the dim light, but they were there. They marred her otherwise flawless complexion, a delicate tracery of lines that seemed to be almost a part of her now—woven into the fabric of who she was.

Azriel’s breath caught. “What are those?” he whispered, his hand instinctively reaching out toward her arm.

Y/N flinched, though she didn’t pull away. She held his gaze for a long moment before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re nothing, Azriel. Just… remnants.”

“Remnants?” he echoed, his brow furrowing. “What happened to you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed her hand gently on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat with a tenderness that sent a pang of something deep into his soul. She was always so careful, so careful of him, yet never letting him in. Not fully.

“I needed to hear it, Azriel,” she said, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “To know it’s still there.”

Her head rested gently against his chest again, her ear pressed to the steady beat of his heart. Azriel’s hand hesitated in the air between them, but then he settled it on her head, his fingers brushing her hair with a quiet tenderness.

“You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, though his voice wavered with the weight of his own concern. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N didn’t respond, though she squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to hold back something. A tear, maybe, or something much heavier. She stayed there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat, as though it was the only thing in the world that could ground her.

Azriel’s eyes flickered toward the shadows around her once more. Now that he was closer, he could see it more clearly. They were less vibrant, more faded than before. He could feel the absence of something that had always been there. But it wasn’t just her shadows—it was her.

“Y/N…” His voice trembled with realization, and his hand reached out, his fingers brushing the faint scars on her arm. “You gave them to me, didn’t you?”

Her eyes shot open, wide and panicked for a fraction of a second before she regained control of herself. She pulled away from him quickly, as if to hide the truth that was written all over her.

But it was too late. Azriel had already seen the way the scars tracked down her skin, the way her shadows had diminished as though they were tethered to him. Her heart was in her shadows. She had given him pieces of herself.

She didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath. “How long have you been giving them to me?”

Y/N hesitated, and then, her voice low and filled with an unspeakable sadness, she answered. “Since the beginning. From the moment I gave you the gift of shadows. I knew you needed it to survive.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “But why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?”

Her lips trembled, and she took a step back, crossing her arms around herself as if the distance would protect her from his words. “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me do it. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me, Azriel. I couldn’t risk you thinking you owed me something. I gave you the shadows because it was the only way to save you.”

Azriel’s heart shattered. “You’ve been giving me everything,” he whispered, his voice raw. “And I never even knew.”

Y/N didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared down at her hands, clenching them into fists as if trying to hold herself together. “It wasn’t for you to know. You just needed to live.”

Azriel reached for her then, his hands trembling as he pulled her closer. “I’m alive because of you, Y/N. I’m here because of you.”

She didn’t pull away. She let him hold her, and this time, Azriel couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling that gnawed at him—the knowledge that she had been silently, desperately giving parts of herself to keep him alive, even at the cost of her own well-being.

“You’ve given me more than enough,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll spend my life making sure you don’t regret it.”

Azriel’s heart was still pounding, but it wasn’t from pain anymore. It was from the realization of everything Y/N had given him, everything she had silently sacrificed in the shadows to keep him alive. The weight of her unspoken devotion hung heavy between them, filling the quiet room with an intensity that neither of them could ignore.

They lay there for a long time, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, while Y/N remained curled beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. The shadows that had once surrounded her so densely were now distant, fading into the edges of the room. It was like the air itself had changed, as though everything in their shared silence was leading to something unspoken, something fragile that neither of them dared to break.

Azriel didn’t know how long they stayed there, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, the world outside the House of Wind didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, sharing the same breath, the same heartbeat—nothing else mattered.

His hand found hers again, their fingers barely touching, but the contact sent a shiver through him. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the soft pulse of her blood beneath the surface. He could feel how much she had given, and how much he still didn’t understand.

He lifted his head slightly to look at her, and for the first time, he saw Y/N fully. He saw her not as the mysterious girl who had given him shadows, nor as the constant presence that always seemed to be there when he needed her. But as a woman—one who had loved him from the beginning, in the quietest, most selfless way imaginable.

His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She didn’t pull away, and instead, she looked at him with eyes full of emotions she hadn’t yet shared.

“You’ve always been there,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Even when I didn’t see you.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and something stirred within him. The air felt charged—heavy with everything they hadn’t said, everything they’d buried deep inside themselves.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She seemed to hesitate, her chest rising and falling in quick succession. Azriel couldn’t tear his gaze away from her lips, couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—the one where everything was laid bare between them—was finally leading somewhere. Somewhere they both knew they needed to go.

Slowly, cautiously, Azriel leaned in. His breath mingled with hers, their proximity so close, he could feel the heat of her skin and the pulse of her heartbeat beneath his palm. He hovered there, just a breath away, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The shadows in the room held their breath, waiting for whatever might come next.

But then—

Bang!

The door to the room swung open with such force that Azriel and Y/N jerked apart, the moment shattered like glass.

Azriel’s heart dropped. Y/N, sensing the intrusion, didn’t hesitate. Before Azriel could even process what had happened, the shadows around her began to ripple and twist, pulling her into the darkness. She disappeared completely, leaving no trace of her presence behind, not even a whisper of shadow.

Azriel blinked, his heart still pounding in the aftermath, but he couldn’t understand what had just happened. She was gone, like smoke on the wind, and he was left alone, with the deafening silence echoing in his ears.

Elain stood in the doorway, her face flushed with concern. “Azriel! I heard you moving—what’s—” Her eyes flicked from Azriel to the now-closed door behind her, confusion clouding her expression as she searched the room. She had clearly heard someone, or sensed something—had she noticed the faint shift in the air? Azriel wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m fine,” Azriel managed, his voice tight as he rubbed his face with a weary hand. His heart was still racing, but he forced himself to focus on Elain. “You can stop worrying.”

Elain stepped further into the room, her eyes softening, though a flicker of doubt still lingered in her gaze. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Azriel,” she said gently, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. Her hand settled on his arm, her touch warm and comforting, but there was a shift between them. Azriel could feel it—like a crack in the facade that neither of them was addressing.

Azriel didn’t want to acknowledge the absence of Y/N, the quiet ache that was left behind in her wake. It felt like a betrayal to even think of her now, when Elain was here, caring for him, doing everything right. But the gnawing emptiness in his chest wouldn’t go away. He had come so close to something—something he hadn’t known he wanted—and now it was gone.

“I’m fine,” Azriel repeated, this time with more force, trying to push aside the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t look at Elain, couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. “Really.”

She smiled, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression. “You don’t have to be fine, Azriel. Not with me.”

Azriel nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep pretending that everything was as it should be—especially when his heart still ached with the memory of a woman who had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echoes of her love behind.

As the door closed softly behind Elain, Azriel sat there in silence, his heart heavy with regret, with questions that he knew would never be answered. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak, as he tried to reconcile the absence of Y/N with the present reality.

The days that followed felt like a blur, with Elain at his side, her concern and kindness a balm for his wounds, but no matter how hard he tried to focus on her, his mind kept drifting back to the shadows—back to the woman who had given him life, but who would never be his.

The days blurred into one another, each one feeling the same as the last. Y/N stood in the shadows, as she had so many times before, watching Azriel from the distance. But this time, it was different. She watched him, not just as the silent observer she had always been, but as someone who felt the sting of every quiet touch, every soft smile he exchanged with Elain.

It was impossible to ignore, impossible to escape. There they were—Azriel and Elain—two souls who were drawn together by something so much more than Y/N could ever be. It hurt in ways that she didn’t understand, but every time they passed by her, lost in each other, it felt like a dagger piercing her heart.

Over the next few months, Y/N saw it all. She saw them taking their walks down the Sidra, Azriel’s arm casually draped around Elain’s shoulders as they strolled beneath the stars. She could hear their laughter, soft and shared, mingling with the sounds of the city. Their voices were always so low, so intimate, like they had a language of their own that Y/N could never hope to understand.

She watched them walk around the Rainbow, too. Azriel would lean in close to Elain, the two of them sharing whispered words as they gazed out over the city. Y/N could see the way Elain’s face softened in Azriel’s presence, the way his eyes seemed to linger on her, like she was the only one who mattered in that moment.

And then there were the small moments—those private, quiet exchanges that felt like they were meant for no one else. They would go to the bakery together, Elain picking out pastries while Azriel stood close beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they laughed over which cakes to buy. It was all so simple, so perfect, and Y/N stood on the edges of it, never invited, never included. She could only watch, her heart twisting with each passing moment.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to retreat into the shadows and never come out. But something held her there—something that made it impossible to look away. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she had given Azriel something so profound, something so intimate, yet he was looking for something else entirely. Something that she couldn’t provide.

As the Solstice approached, Y/N felt the weight of everything that had passed between them. The tension in her chest grew with every passing day. She had seen how Azriel and Elain had grown closer. She had felt it, too—felt the quiet ache that came with the realization that no matter what she had done, no matter how much of herself she had given, it would never be enough.

Solstice night arrived, bringing with it the cold chill of winter and the warmth of the city. The streets of Velaris sparkled with light, the stars above bright as they twinkled down on the festivities. Music drifted through the air, and Y/N found herself standing at the balcony once more, watching Azriel and Elain from the shadows.

They were together, of course, as they always were now. Azriel was laughing softly at something Elain had said, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her, and Y/N felt that familiar ache in her chest again. She didn’t want to feel this way. She didn’t want to be the one to stand on the sidelines, watching their happiness from afar. But she couldn’t help herself.

They were walking toward the balcony now, the noise of the celebration fading as they grew closer. Y/N hesitated, almost wanting to step away, but something kept her rooted to the spot. The air around them was thick with something unspoken, and she could feel it—the connection, the pull that had always been there between Azriel and herself, but now tangled up with Elain.

Azriel paused just beside her, his presence so close she could feel the heat of his body. He was still laughing softly, his gaze lingering on Elain with a warmth that Y/N couldn’t deny. And then, for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Azriel and Elain were standing so close to one another, their bodies just inches apart. Y/N could see the way their eyes met, the soft, intimate look they shared. For a heartbeat, it was like time had stopped—just the three of them, frozen in that moment. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, watching the slow, inevitable progression of what she had known all along.

Azriel’s gaze flickered to Elain’s lips, and Y/N’s stomach churned as she realized what was about to happen. She wanted to turn away. She wanted to leave and never look back, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to escape.

Azriel leaned in slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he moved closer to Elain. Y/N could feel the pull, the tension in the air that seemed to crackle with anticipation. It was happening—he was going to kiss her. The kiss that Y/N had known was coming, but it still tore through her, nonetheless.

Just before their lips could touch, a voice broke through the stillness. “Azriel.”

Y/N’s heart started beating again as Azriel pulled back, turning toward the interruption. Rhys stood in the doorway, his voice firm, his expression urgent. “We need you. Now.”

The moment was shattered. Azriel stepped back from Elain, his gaze flickering to Y/N for a brief second, as if he could see her —just enough for her to see the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. He smiled at Elain, and Y/N watched as he walked away without a word, his attention turning back to Rhys.

Elain’s smile was still there, softer now, but there was a question in her eyes as she watched Azriel leave. Y/N could see it—the small crack in the perfect picture they had built. But it didn’t matter. Because when Azriel looked back at her, it was as if he had never seen her at all.

And with that, Y/N slipped back into the shadows, her heart heavier than it had ever been. She had hoped, for just a moment, that things could be different—that maybe, just maybe, Azriel would have kissed her that night. But the world was never that kind.

The moment Azriel left with Rhys, a heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over the House of Wind. Y/N had learned, over the years, to trust her instincts, especially where Azriel was concerned. When Rhys had summoned him, his voice sharp and urgent, her stomach twisted in response. They had been discussing something—something dangerous. Koschei had made a move, and Y/N’s heart had dropped when she heard that name. The Death God.

The city of Velaris was far behind them when Azriel ventured out of the court’s protected borders, heading toward the desolate lake where Koschei was rumored to be hiding. Y/N knew this place—Kochei’s lake was an eerie, forgotten expanse of black waters, known only for its unnerving stillness. The entire area gave off an aura of decay, both from the land and the whispers of ancient power that lingered there. It was as if the very earth around the lake had been poisoned, steeped in magic of the darkest kind.

The air was thick with the oppressive weight of Koschei’s magic as Azriel stood before the lake, his eyes scanning the dark waters, his wings poised in readiness. Y/N crouched low, her shadows swirling around her, blending into the darkness as she watched him, ready to intervene if she had to.

Koschei’s presence lingered just beyond the periphery, an unseen but unmistakable force. The Death God had been waiting for the right moment, and now, Azriel had walked right into his trap.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, sensing something amiss, but before he could make a move, the shadows around him thickened, clamping down on his limbs, immobilizing him with an invisible grip. His body stiffened, his wings twitching in resistance, but the hold was too strong.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched, knowing that she couldn’t allow him to fall under Koschei’s control. She couldn’t let him be taken—history would not repeat itself.

But Koschei wasn’t after Azriel.

Not yet.

With a malevolent grin, Koschei stepped from the shadows, his cold eyes gleaming as he saw Y/N standing, powerless to act as Azriel struggled against the restraints. The Death God’s form materialized fully before her, his presence like a weight on her chest.

“Ah, Y/N,” Koschei’s voice was low, teasing. “I see you’ve brought your shadows with you. They’ve always been loyal to you, haven’t they?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She stood her ground, though her heart raced in her chest. “I won’t let you have him,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm. “You won’t touch him.”

Koschei tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You think you can stop me? I’ve waited for so long to take what’s mine.”

Before she could react, Koschei’s magic reached out, grabbing her by the throat and dragging her forward. She struggled, but his grip was unyielding, his fingers like ice against her skin.

Azriel’s voice, strained and desperate, reached her ears as he tried to free himself, but the shadows around him only tightened.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice was thick with fear, his shadows flickering in agitation as he fought against the restraints. “Get out of here! Please!”

But Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t leave him—not when he needed her. Not when she was his only hope.

Koschei chuckled darkly, his hands tightening around Y/N’s throat. “You’re quite the puzzle, aren’t you? Always playing the hero, always throwing yourself into danger for others.”

Y/N gasped for air, but her eyes never left Azriel. “You can’t have him,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice full of defiance. “I won’t allow it.”

Koschei’s smile was cruel, his grip on her throat tightening further as he moved closer. “Finally, someone you’ll fight for,” he purred, his voice dripping with malice. “How touching.”

But Y/N didn’t falter. She could feel her shadows, the last of her magic, slipping away. She had to make her move now.

With every ounce of strength she had left, she reached out, sending the last of her shadows toward Azriel, her magic flooding into him. She could feel his strength return as the shadows wrapped around him, empowering him, protecting him.

“No,” Koschei hissed, his face twisted in anger. “You can’t do this!”

But Y/N didn’t care. She had made her choice. Azriel’s safety was her only priority now.

As the last of her power left her, she whispered, almost to herself, “You can’t have him. I won’t allow it.”

The words hung in the air, thick with finality, as her vision blurred. The shadows around her began to fade, dissipating into nothingness. Her body felt weak, her breath shallow. She had given everything.

Koschei let out a furious roar as he tried to push against her will, but it was too late. Azriel’s shadows surged around him, breaking his restraints, and with a powerful snap, the Death God was forced back.

Azriel had broken free.

Her body crumpled to the ground, the shadows that had once sustained her now gone, leaving her fragile and empty. She could feel her strength slipping away, her body fading into the cold grasp of death. But she had done it. She had protected him.

Azriel’s voice reached her again, frantic and full of desperation. “Y/N! No!”

Azriel’s blood boiled. His shadows had surged, fought back, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Y/N was crumpled at Koschei’s feet, her body barely breathing, her shadows gone, dissipated into the nothingness that Koschei had left in his wake.

His fists clenched, fury burning through him in a white-hot blaze. No.

Not her. He couldn’t lose her.

Koschei’s laughter echoed in his ears, and he could feel the Death God’s presence press against him, his dark power threatening to swallow him whole. “You think you can stop me?” Koschei taunted, his voice filled with venom. “You’ve already lost.”

Azriel’s wings snapped forward, his talons cutting through the air. The shadows around him gathered in a vortex of rage as he fought back with everything he had. Koschei tried to push against him, his power a suffocating weight, but Azriel’s determination surged higher. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not after everything. Not when he’d come this far.

With a brutal, final strike, Azriel’s shadows wrapped around Koschei, pulling the Death God away, slamming him into the earth. The battle was violent, brutal, the world around them bending and breaking under the weight of their fury. Azriel’s injuries didn’t matter. His exhaustion didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except her.

Azriel drove his shadow blades into the ground, pinning Koschei in place, and for a moment, everything was still.

But that stillness shattered when his eyes fell on Y/N.

Her form was so fragile now, the light of her presence dimming with every breath she took. The once-vibrant shadows that had defined her, that had been a part of her essence, were now nothing more than an echo.

No.

With a final, guttural roar, Azriel turned his focus to Koschei, slamming his power down upon the Death God. Koschei screamed, vanishing in a wisp of smoke, but the damage had been done. Azriel had won, but it felt hollow. It didn’t matter. He could feel her slipping away.

As he staggered toward her, blood dripping from his wounds, his heart clenched at the sight of Y/N’s frantic, desperate eyes meeting his.

“Y/N,” he breathed, crawling to her, reaching out to touch her, to anchor himself to her, even as his body screamed in protest.

Her breath was shallow, her eyes wide with fear, but there was no power left in her. The shadows had abandoned her. She had given everything.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. She was fading. The life that had once burned so brightly in her was now flickering out, and Azriel’s heart shattered with every passing second.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Azriel whispered, his voice cracking. The panic rose in his chest like a choking wave, suffocating him.

He reached for her, cradling her in his arms, pressing his face to her forehead. “Please, don’t die. I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Her eyes met his, but there was no recognition, no spark of the strength she had once had. Just… emptiness.

He leaned down, his voice breaking as he whispered to the shadows in desperation.

“Go back to her. Please… I need you. Keep her alive.”

He felt them—his shadows, the ones he controlled, the ones that were so much a part of him. But they didn’t move. They lingered, cold and unyielding.

But then, as if the very act of begging for her, for the one person who had been there for him in the darkest of moments, had unlocked something within the shadows, one tiny speck of darkness flickered into existence. It crawled toward her wrist, wrapping around it like a thread of hope.

Azriel watched in a stunned silence as the small shadow pulsed, then expanded, feeding life back into her, bringing her warmth, her pulse, her breath back.

Her eyes fluttered, and then—there—a faint spark, a flicker of recognition. Her hand moved ever so slightly.

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest as he pulled her closer, his face hovering inches from hers, his lips trembling. She was alive.

Her eyes opened fully, still filled with that same raw vulnerability, the same trust that had always been there. But now, the fear had gone. She wasn’t fading anymore.

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, his voice rough with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, pressing his forehead against hers. “Never do that again,” he muttered, his voice a mix of relief and raw anger. “Do you hear me? Never.”

Y/N’s breathing was steady now, and though she was still weak, the shadows had returned to her—if only just enough to give her life again. And Azriel could feel the change in her, in him, as the bond they shared snapped into place.

A rush of warmth flooded through him, a sharp, undeniable connection that had always been there but now was more real than ever. His heart slammed against his ribs as he realized the truth.

She was his. And now, in the aftermath of everything, the mating bond had been forged between them.

Azriel held her tighter, his grip desperate, as if he were afraid she might slip away again. But she wouldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Azriel’s wings beat steadily as he flew through the cool night sky, cradling Y/N in his arms. Her breath was steady now, her body still fragile but alive. Alive because of him. Alive because of the bond they had finally accepted, because of the shadows she had given him, because of the sacrifices she had made for him time and time again.

He landed softly in front of the River House, the place that had always been home. Elain was there, as if she had been waiting, her concern etched on her face when she saw Y/N in his arms.

“Azriel—what happened? Is she—” Elain started, her voice filled with worry.

Azriel shook his head, a soft growl of frustration building in his chest. “She’ll be fine. But there’s something I need to tell you.” He stepped past her, carrying Y/N toward the bedroom where he had left her resting, the weight of the conversation he needed to have with Elain sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He laid Y/N gently on the bed and tucked the blankets around her, making sure she was comfortable. She stirred slightly at the touch, but her eyes stayed closed, her body still recovering from the ordeal.

Elain stood in the doorway, watching him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Azriel turned to her, his heart aching, knowing this was the moment he needed to speak the truth.

“Azriel… what happened?” Elain’s voice was soft but insistent.

He sighed, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers. “Elain, there’s something I need to say.” He took a breath. “You’re kind, and you’ve been wonderful to me. But…” He hesitated, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “But I don’t feel the way I thought I did for you. You’ve been a friend to me, Elain. But there’s someone else.”

Her face softened, understanding dawning. But still, there was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet resignation that Azriel couldn’t ignore.

“I… I see,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She took a step back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I always knew it wasn’t the same. But I’m glad you were honest with me, Azriel.”

Azriel stepped forward, his hand brushing hers in a gentle, reassuring gesture. “You’ll always be my friend, Elain. And I’ll always care about you. But… I’ve found something, someone else.” His voice hardened with emotion, a touch of bitterness slipping through. “And I owe her everything.”

Elain nodded, her lips trembling. “I understand. I just… want you to be happy, Azriel. I hope she makes you happy.”

Azriel gave her a final, grateful nod before he turned, his heart still heavy with the weight of what he’d just confessed. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. But Y/N had always been his destiny—his heart, his shadows, his everything.

Azriel walked into the living room where Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre were gathered. He had just returned with Y/N, and his heart was still pounding from the emotions of everything that had just transpired. The weight of his words felt heavy, but it was time. Time to share everything with his family.

“There’s someone you need to meet,” Azriel said quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and reverence.

Rhys looked up from the chair he was seated in, his brows furrowing in curiosity. “What’s going on, Az?” He stood, sensing the shift in his brother. The tension in Azriel’s posture was palpable.

Azriel nodded toward the bedroom door. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

Without waiting for another word, Azriel led them down the hallway, his mind racing as he walked toward the room where Y/N had been resting. He paused before the door, taking a breath. This was it. The moment he had been dreading and longing for—revealing the truth about the woman who had always been by his side.

He opened the door gently and stepped inside, motioning for the others to follow. Y/N was lying on the bed, her body still fragile from the toll of the battle, but her breathing steady. She looked peaceful now, her form bathed in the soft light of the room.

Azriel turned to face Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre. “This is Y/N,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “She’s… she’s the one who has been with me all along. The one who gave me everything—her shadows, her life—without question.”

Feyre stepped forward first, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at the woman resting on the bed. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

Azriel’s chest tightened as he continued. “Y/N saved me. She saved me when I didn’t know how to save myself.” He swallowed hard. “I was a broken, lost soul when I first met her. I was drowning in the darkness, consumed by it. And she… she gave me her shadows. At first, I didn’t understand what it meant. But now, I see it. All of it. The sacrifices she’s made for me. The love she’s given, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Cassian stepped forward, looking down at Y/N with a mixture of awe and respect. “What do you mean, she gave you her shadows? How? Why?”

Azriel’s eyes never left Y/N as he spoke. “She didn’t just give me her shadows. She became them. When she was dying, when she lost her first love, Koschei offered her a way out. A way to survive. She made a deal with him, traded her life for the power of shadows. And in return, she gave me those shadows, kept me alive when I was losing myself to the darkness.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I had no idea how much she was sacrificing for me.”

Feyre looked at Azriel, her expression filled with both admiration and sadness. “She gave you her life. She gave you the very thing that kept her alive.”

Azriel nodded. “She did. But it didn’t end there. After the first war, when I was still struggling with the weight of it all, she was there. She was always there. And when I needed her most—when I was losing myself to Koschei, to the darkness that had been trying to consume me for so long—she gave everything again. She gave me the last of her shadows.”

Cassian’s eyes widened as the weight of Azriel’s words sank in. “And now… now she’s like this?” He asked, gesturing to Y/N, still unconscious and fragile on the bed.

Azriel’s voice softened, a thread of emotion weaving through it. “Yes. She gave it all. The last of her shadows. She’s barely hanging on.”

Rhys stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Azriel’s face. “But she’s alive, Azriel. She’s here. And we’ll make sure she stays that way. She’s part of this family now, just like you.”

Azriel nodded, the emotions too much to contain. He approached the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s face. “I won’t let her fade. Not after everything she’s done for me.”

Cassian stepped forward then, his voice thick with gratitude and something deeper—something unspoken. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything you’ve done—for Azriel, for all of us.”

Azriel’s heart clenched as he saw Cassian gently place a hand on Y/N’s wrist, the gesture full of reverence. It was clear that Y/N had already touched all of their hearts, even though she had never asked for anything in return.

Feyre, too, stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at the woman who had given so much for her family. “I can’t even imagine the pain you must have gone through,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for saving him.”

Azriel turned to face his family. “She did what none of us could. She saved me. And I owe her everything.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Azriel’s words hanging in the air. Y/N was still asleep, but the shadows around her—slowly beginning to return—told the story of her sacrifice. And Azriel knew that he would never take that for granted again.

Finally, as the silence stretched on, Azriel leaned down to kiss Y/N’s forehead, his hand resting on her chest as if to keep her tethered to this world. He could feel the bond between them now, stronger than it had ever been, and he knew it wasn’t just the shadows that connected them. It was something deeper.

“Never again will you fight alone,” Azriel whispered softly, his voice barely audible. “You’ve given me everything. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

The warmth of sunlight filtered through the curtains, the soft scent of roses mingling with the earthy scent of the river outside. Y/N stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. The weight on her chest, her heart, was lighter than before, though still heavy with everything that had happened.

She glanced down to find Azriel sitting next to her, his large form leaning back in the chair beside her bed, his gaze focused intently on her. His shadows whispered quietly, as if sensing her waking. His focus, however, was entirely on her.

“I needed to hear it,” Azriel murmured softly, his voice a quiet rasp, barely above a whisper. His hand rested lightly over her chest, just above her heart. His eyes searched her face, searching for any sign of distress. “Your heartbeat. It was the same as mine.”

Y/N blinked, her senses returning as her mind processed the words. She nodded slowly, trying to sit up but feeling the weight of exhaustion still hanging over her.

“Good to see you’re awake,” Azriel added with a small smile. “You’ve been out for three days.”

Before Y/N could respond, a loud knock at the door interrupted them, followed by the unmistakable sound of Cassian’s booming voice from the hallway. “Az, don’t think I haven’t been here for the last few days. We’re all concerned, and if you don’t let me in, I’ll come in myself.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound faint but genuine. “He’s quite persistent, isn’t he?”

Azriel grinned, his shadows flickering with amusement. “He’s worse when he’s worried.”

With a flick of his hand, the door creaked open, revealing Cassian standing in the doorway, a huge grin plastered on his face as usual. “You look better, at least,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Not that you could get any worse.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes as he entered the room.

Azriel laughed quietly. “You’ve been camped outside my door this entire time, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged, unbothered. “Someone had to keep an eye on you both.” He glanced at Y/N, then turned and left the room, only to return minutes later with a tray laden with food—and a large slice of cake. “I figured you might need a treat. You’ve been through enough, so cake it is,” he said, setting it on the bedside table.

Y/N chuckled softly, the smell of cake tempting her despite how tired she still felt. “You really do come bearing gifts, don’t you?”

Cassian winked at her. “I’m a man of many talents. And cake is my specialty.”

Before Y/N could respond, Rhys and Feyre appeared in the doorway, both looking at her with warm smiles, though Feyre’s eyes were filled with quiet curiosity and concern. Rhys took a few steps forward, his presence calm and steady.

“You’re awake,” he said gently, his tone full of warmth. “Good. We’ve all been worried.”

Y/N smiled weakly. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Feyre, who had been standing slightly behind Rhys, moved to the bedside, her eyes softening as she studied Y/N. “Azriel told us about everything. You’ve done so much for him.”

Y/N met her gaze, the weight of the unspoken history between them lingering in the air. “He’s my responsibility. Always has been.”

Cassian leaned against the doorframe with a grin. “You’ll learn quickly, like Feyre did. Once you’re part of Az’s world, you’re part of all of ours.”

Y/N nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve been with Rhys and Cassian for a long time. I’ve followed Cassian into battle more times than I can count. It’s where my scars came from—fighting beside him, making sure he made it out alive.”

There was a long pause as Rhys took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. “You’ve been with us… longer than we realized, then?” he asked quietly.

Y/N’s gaze softened, a faint sadness in her eyes. “I went after you, Rhys. When you were captured during the first war… I helped you. I helped free you. I did what I could.”

Rhys stared at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. “I never knew. I never realized…”

Y/N’s gaze dropped, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what you went through under the mountain, Rhys. I tried to help you… as much as I could. I know it wasn’t enough, but I tried.”

Feyre’s eyes widened, and she glanced between Y/N and Rhys. “You helped him?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “How? I never knew.”

Y/N glanced back at Rhys. “You were important to Azriel. I couldn’t let you break.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Feyre, still standing near Rhys, gasped softly. “The music you sent me… it was you, wasn’t it? The same music that you sent Rhys?”

Y/N nodded quietly. “I couldn’t let Rhys break. He needed to stay strong. He couldn’t fall. Azriel needed him.”

Rhys, his gaze unreadable, looked at Y/N with newfound understanding. “You sent that music? All this time?”

Y/N simply nodded again. “I couldn’t let you lose yourself.”

There was a long, heavy silence, and Azriel could feel the weight of it as he watched Y/N open up in ways he hadn’t expected. He could sense the depth of her sacrifice, of everything she had done for him and for his family without ever expecting recognition or thanks.

Cassian’s deep voice broke the silence. “You’ve been doing all this for him… and for us?” His tone was thick with emotion now, and he stepped forward, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re a hell of a lot stronger than any of us gave you credit for.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I did what I had to do.”

Azriel watched her, his heart swelling with the quiet pride he felt for her. She had given so much of herself, had fought so hard to protect them all, and yet, she never asked for anything in return. It had always been about him—about Azriel.

Feyre stepped forward, her hands shaking slightly, and before anyone could stop her, she wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. “Thank you,” Feyre whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve done more than we’ll ever know. Thank you for being there—for him. For all of us.”

Y/N stiffened at first, clearly not used to such displays of affection, but after a moment, she relaxed into the embrace. “I never expected thanks,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion as well. “But… you’re welcome.”

Azriel stood by, silent, watching the family he had once only dreamed of accepting her as one of their own. She had always been by his side, fighting, protecting. Now, she was truly part of his world, part of their world.

As Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre stood together in the room, Y/N smiled faintly, her heart full. She was finally seen. Finally home.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre, having shared their heartfelt thanks and goodbyes, stood in the doorway for a moment longer, watching the connection between Y/N and Azriel before they left.

“Get some rest, you two,” Rhys said gently, his eyes full of understanding. “We’ll see you both later. And if you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask.”

Cassian gave a wide grin, his voice light as usual, though the affection in his tone was unmistakable. “Take care of each other,” he said, with a wink at Y/N. “We’ll save the cake for when you’re feeling better.”

Feyre’s gaze softened. “We’re here for you, Y/N,” she added quietly. “You’ve been through so much. Take the time you need to heal.”

With that, the three of them departed, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet of the room. Y/N’s gaze followed them for a moment before her tired eyes turned back to Azriel, who was still sitting beside her. He hadn’t said much since they’d all left, his presence quietly constant as always, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before—something she hadn’t allowed herself to see in the years they had known each other.

As the door clicked shut behind them, she gave him a small, but honest smile. “I’m glad they came by,” she said softly. “It’s strange, having people around again.”

Azriel’s smile was small but warm, his voice full of affection when he spoke. “They care about you. They’re grateful for everything you’ve done for us all.”

Y/N nodded, but there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. “I’ve never asked for anything from them… but they’ve all given me so much already. I don’t know if I deserve it.”

Azriel’s hand reached out to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek as he spoke softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You do deserve it. More than you know.”

There was a long, quiet pause as they shared a gaze, the weight of everything that had happened, all the shared moments, the sacrifices, and the unspoken love, pressing in on them. It was as though they had finally, after all these years, found a breath to share between them—a breath that was both long overdue and infinitely worth the wait.

Y/N swallowed, her heart racing in her chest as she looked at him, truly looked at him. “Azriel,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”

His gaze softened, his expression tender as he nodded. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly.

Without another word, Azriel slipped into the bed beside her, carefully maneuvering his body so that they were close but still mindful of her fragility. She shifted slightly, her hand reaching for his, intertwining their fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him.

Azriel gazed back down at her, his lips parting as he leaned closer, their faces inches apart. He searched her eyes, as if asking for permission, as if he needed her to know how much she meant to him before he closed the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught as she looked up at him, her chest tightening with emotion. She could feel the bond between them, the connection they had shared for so long, but now it was something more. Something she had longed for but never allowed herself to fully feel.

With a soft exhale, Azriel finally closed the distance, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was soft, gentle, but full of everything they had never said. It was a kiss of unspoken words, of everything they had endured, of everything they had fought for. It was a kiss that told the story of their connection, of love and loyalty, of battles fought both internal and external. And most of all, it was a kiss that told the story of their future—a future that they would face together.

When they pulled away, both of them breathless, Y/N’s eyes were wide, her heart racing as she looked at him. “I love you, Azriel,” she whispered, the words finally escaping her lips as her heart overflowed.

Azriel’s voice was low and gravelly, full of emotion as he answered, his hand brushing the hair from her face. “I love you too, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

And as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of everything that had come before seemed to fall away, leaving only the quiet comfort of the present. In that moment, there was no past, no war, no shadows. There was only the two of them, together, finally allowing themselves the peace they both so desperately needed.

And as they fell asleep, tangled in one another, the world outside could wait. For once, everything was as it should be.

[astonmartinii]

brother's best friend | lance stroll social media au

pairing: lance stroll x fem schumacher!reader

there's something about the guy your brother tells you is off limits...

MASTERLIST | MY TIP JAR

mickschumacher

liked by estebanocon, lancestroll and 1,099,458 others

tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: happy birthday to the biggest pain in my ass

view all comments

user1: y/n is so mother that her birthday really should be a national holiday

yourusername: what ass? babe you built like an ironing board

mickschumacher: you're talking real loud for someone who has a smaller ass than me 🤨

yourusername: you wanna get the tape measure out ???

user2: I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

liked by lancestroll

yourusername: HAH

mickschumacher: i'll give you this one FOR ONCE only because it's your birthday

yourusername: you're SO generous

user3: both mick and y/n really got the unhinged gene from michael

user4: now we know why toto separates them in the paddock LOL

lancestroll: mick you were such a cute kid, what happened?

mickschumacher: EY stay out of it this is schumacher business

mickschumacher: or at least call y/n ugly too ugh 😩

lancestroll: my dad taught me that it's wrong to tell lies sorry

mickschumacher: BACK UP ??? what's that supposed to mean?

yourusername: is no one allowed to compliment me anymore?

mickschumacher: NO. especially not a man. especially not an f1 driver. they're all whores.

estebanocon: ????

maxverstappen1: ????

lancestroll: ????

yourusername: is that why you got dropped? too bitchless?

mickschumacher: HOW DARE YOU? I PULL. I DO.

yourusername: sure you do

mickschumacher: that's it. if you're going to use my loneliness against me, then i invoke the kat stratford rule. you can't date until i do

yourusername: that is so horrifically tragic. who says i'm not already seeing someone?

this comment has been deleted

mickschumacher: I SAW THAT

user5: everybody pray for y/n

user6: for real i think mick lost all of his patience at haas 😭

yourusername

liked by lancestroll, mickschumacher and 983,409 others

yourusername: all my birthday wishes came true

view all comments

user7: cue the mick meltdown

mickschumacher: WHAT 😭 THE 😭 FUCK 😭

yourusername: yes?

mickschumacher: does ten things i hate about you mean nothing to you?

yourusername: no ! but i like [redacted] more

mickschumacher: you can use [redacted] all you want but i will literally break in to your house I'M GETTING IN THE CAR

yourusername: soz girlypop but i'm at [redacted]'s house xoxo

mickschumacher: don't think i won't call sebastian i know he has you on find my friends

yourusername: go for it buddy i am completely confident in mine and seb's relationship

mickschumacher: @sebastianvettel pick up your phone

sebastianvettel: leave me be mick, i have met [redacted] and i think he's a great match 👍

mickschumacher: WHAT

user8: well that was dramatic

user9: get that man back in the car before he genuinely runs across europe looking for y/n

user10: i love how they're all going along with the [redacted] nonsense

user11: i know seb was having way too much fun with it

estebanocon: happy birthday y/n, i hope [redacted] treated you well !

yourusername: why thank you esteban, i have had a great time

mickschumacher: do not tell me you know as well :(

estebanocon: i don't but saying [redacted] is super fun 🤩

lancestroll: [redacted] does make them sound like a criminal

mickschumacher: when i found out who it is, they may become part of a criminal trial

lancestroll: okay buddy...

yourusername: thank you lance, at least someone here is talking sense

mickschumacher: don't use my friends against me 🤨

yourusername: maybe he's my friend too dumbass

user12: or more 😏

mickschumacher: do not even speak that into existence

user13: i need it to be lance or at least another driver just for mick's reaction at this point

lancestroll

liked by estebanocon, yourusername and 1,077,487 others

tagged: yourusername

lancestroll: just appreciating the birthday girl

view all comments

user17: WAIT !! let me grab my popcorn 🍿

user18: i am sat for this mick meltdown

user19: it might be an all-timer

yourusername: before mick inevitably throws all his toys out of the pram... i love you sir lancelot !! thank you for the amazing birthday and for being the best boyf eva xxx

lancestroll: i love you too darling, glad we could spend all this time together before the season starts again

yourusername: booooo i don't wanna share you :(

lancestroll: you could just join me ...

yourusername: do NOT threaten me with a good time

user20: i think i can hear mick having a tantrum from all the way across the world

mickschumacher: ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO. NOPE. NADA. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING. DELETE.

lancestroll: you done?

mickschumacher: NO I AM NOT. TAKE YOUR MOUTH OFF OF MY SISTER. THE ONLY SCHUMACHER YOU WILL BE KISSED BY IS MY FIST

lancestroll: bit too late for that

mickschumacher: HALT. i do not need to know that :(

yourusername: have you got it out of your system? because i really love lance and i'm sorry we kept it from you, but we thought it was best while we figured it all out

mickschumacher: i am happy for you. all i want to see is you happy, and if that is lance so be it. just no pda in front of me

lancestroll: you're saying this like i'm a monster? i'm literally your friend, surely that's a good sign?

mickschumacher: wait. i thought we were best friends :(

lancestroll: yes! we're bffs ! best friends forever + este

estebanocon: yes we love you mick even when you scream all the time and call us whores?

yourusername: gosh you're such a drama queen, have this heart to heart in the group chat this is a birthday post for ME

user21: well this got suprisingly heartfelt

sebastianvettel: happy birthday y/n, i'm happy for both of you!

yourusername: thank you seb ! x

lancestroll: thank you seb, wingman of the year

mickschumacher: WHAT

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, lancestroll and 923,766 others

tagged: lancestroll

yourusername: my boyf just won point with broken wrists, what the fuck are y'all doin?

view all comments

user24: this was so sexy of lance honestly

maxverstappen1: winning the race bozo

yourusername: the question was clearly rhetorical genius

maxverstappen1: i don't care 🤷‍♀️

user25: i always forget that these two technically grew up together

lancestroll: the doctors said i still need to be looked after, will you be my sexy nurse?

mickschumacher: EW this is exactly what i was talking about. keep this shit to yourselves

mickschumacher: PLUS, i don't think that would be wise with broken wrists

lancestroll: gotta ruin all of our jokes now?

yourusername: so me being a sexy nurse is a joke :( ?

lancestroll: no! you can definitely look after me and you're definitely sexy

yourusername: good good. sit back and relax baby

user26: what if we also want to be seen by sexy nurse y/n?

mickschumacher: choke

lancestroll: choke

fernandoalo_oficial: so no mention of my podium 🤨

yourusername: bore off old man you've got completely functioning wrists

fernandoalo_oficial: still impressive no?

yourusername: cry me a river

lancestroll: it was very impressive fernando

fernandoalo_oficial: at least one of my kids respect me

yourusername: god i think being a drama queen is a requirement for being an f1 driver

user27: she's not wrong

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by lancestroll, yourusername and 1,452,887 others

fernandoalo_oficial: accidentally acquired two kids this season

view all comments

user28: grid dad fernando is back baby

user29: who is the mum and can i be her?

yourusername: soz mark beat you to it

oscarpiastri: does that make us all siblings?

mickschumacher: absolutely not. the schumacher gang is very exclusive

fernandoalo_oficial: who said i claimed you?

mickschumacher: as if you wouldn't want to claim me

yourusername: soz mick, looks like only one of us slays

lancestroll: fernando has taste 💅

mickschumacher: i hate you both

yourusername: love you too x

user30: golly gosh these girlies are so dramatic

user31: lance, y/n and oscar is the chill trio we need

yourusername: also thanks pa for the cute pic x

lancestroll: and for not complaining the whole time

yourusername: SOME people could learn a thing or two ....

mickschumacher: hey! i am a good photographer you're just ugly

lancestroll: you take that back

mickschumacher: you were my friend first you should be on my side :(

yourusername: you snooze you lose mickster

lancestroll: :p

user32: so glad that this relationship is bringing out lance's sassy side

user33: now all we need is the return of the racing point hair

yourusername: i'm on it 🫡

yourusername

liked by estebanocon, lancestroll and 1,099,432 others

tagged: lancestroll

yourusername: the romance books didn't lie, there really is nothng like your brother's best friend

view all comments

user34: boyf!lance got me going feral

user35: third pic is defo going platinum on pinterest

lancestroll: all the turmoil was worth it :)

yourusername: turmoil being mick pouting at you for like three hours

lancestroll: i am a sensitive man! i don't like people being upset with me :(

yourusername: mick is just a drama queen, probably his way of hazing you, or distracting himself from being lonely

mickschumacher: for that lonely comment you just got yourself stuck with a third wheel

mickschumacher: FOR LIFE

estebanocon: and me !! don't forget about meeee

user36: my fave unproblematic foursome

yourusername: hold your horses babe two of that four are siblings maybe we should reword this

sebastianvettel: is mick finished now? can i safely go back on my phone without getting ten billion calls about you and lance?

yourusername: yeah i think he's got it out of his system

sebastianvettel: good. but you and lance are still on babysitting duty for putting my through this

lancestroll: not the punishment you think it is we love those kids

yourusername: plus lance is cute with kids and gives me major baby fever

sebastianvettel: oh no...

mickschumacher: WHAT ABSOLUTELY NOT NO BABIES YET I ONLY JUST ACCEPTED YOU DATIGN I DON;Y WANT TO THINK ABOUT... THAT

yourusername: but baby lancelots would be so cute :(

lancestroll: baby y/ns would be cuter

yourusername: that's it. seb sorry we will be a little late

mickschumacher: DELETE

fin.

note: this request has been in the bank for a while and i know i took a lil creative liberty but i hope you enjoyed!! also thought lance deserved some love after the recent tomfoolery ... alas! happy new year and i hope everyone has a great new years eve xx

[pierregazly]

to live for the hope of it all (part 2) ꨄ charles leclerc smau

charles leclerc x fem!reader / mick schumacher x fem!reader

pic credits: pinterest

link to part 1 | link to part 3

all the love on part 1 was so sweet i just had to get started on part 2 as soon as possible. originally this was only going to be a charles x reader but i like drama and i like mick sooo... it also may seem obvious about what's gonna happen but i have no self control and this is prob gonna be a multi-part xoxo

mercedesamgf1

tagged georgerussell63 and lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, lewishamilton, and 2,683,222 others

mercedesamgf1 no one tell toto why we needed both his drivers for individual photoshoots... it had absolutely nothing to do with their hands... nothing at all

view all 6,782 comments

username ur telling me yourusername takes over and all of a sudden we're getting this kind of content??? stay with us forever y/n pls

lewishamilton i thought you were taking pictures of my tattoos...

mercedesamgf1 i see tattoos, do you not, sir lewis? lewishamilton please stop calling me sir lewis every time you acknowledge me

mickschumacher im telling toto because i wasn't included in the photoshoot

mercedesamgf1 next post is an admin loves mick post i promise 🙏

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, roscoelovescoco, mercedesamgf1 and 785,450 others

mickschumacher special thanks to yourusername for always getting my best angles

view all 7,656 comments

yourusername we've discussed this. you don't have bad angles.

username mick is so golden retriever boyfriend-coded, i ship him and y/n so hard

username hoping you get a real seat in 2024, even if it's not for mercedes 🙏

roscoelovescoco missing's ya mick's

liked by yourusername

yourusername

tagged mercedesamgf1

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, mickschumacher and 360,420 others

view all 3,455 comments

yourusername oh monza my heart and soul... honoured to be spending a gp from the other side of things for once

arthur_leclerc red always fit you better... broke my heart with this post y/n 💔 yourusername mercedes spoils me too much to give them up

username did anyone realize charles and y/n had unfollowed each other??

username im so sad... i really thought they'd get together by monza username we all delulu around here

mickschumacher knew it was gonna be more fun having you hang around the garage with me

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, yourusername and 1,340,592 others

charles_leclerc monza is special thanks to you. thank you all for coming to milan today, you are the best.

view all 9,455 comments

username 🇮🇹❤️

username mother in the likes??? they still dont follow each other omf

yourusername race your heart out charlie

liked by charles_leclerc and 5,665 others

username omg omg omg

username mother is mothering pls get back together (even platonically pls)

f1wagsofficial

liked by username, username, username and 95,691 others

f1wagsofficial rumour has it charles_leclerc and yourusername were seen talking earlier today in the paddock... apparently charles sought her out and one of my dm's said they swore they heard the ferrari driver apologizing profusely... guess that means things are on the mend?

username im sure whatever the fight was about isn't worth tossing out a 22 yr friendship anyways lol

username none of us have any right commenting on this lol

username does this mean y/n and mick ARENT gonna be a thing??? cuz girlypop looked so happy every time she was with him...

username they were also totally snuggling up to each other in some of those photos ppl were posting on twitter like...

yourusername has posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher, pierregasly, and 2,698 others

taglist

@needtokeepfeelingsincheck @sassyheroneckgiant @sillyfreakfanparty @leclercdream @allywthsr @bladestark @adoxra

(please feel free to reach out if you'd like to be tagged for any/all of my works. i apologize if the tag didn't work, some usernames it wasn't working for!)

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the night courts justice

pairing: platonic!rhysand x reader

summary: rhysand learns your past traumas are more alike than he assumed.

Tw: MASSIVE trigger warning for r*pe being mentioned. Graphic, graphic violence. Feminine rage, unhinged female rage. Unhinged. 

Would like to preface: this is a work of fiction, uh, yeah. 

I know people write more detailed shit than I did however, I just wanted to give the violence disclaimer bc this is the most violent thing i've ever written (i usually just write fluff!)

Happy reading to my unhinged vengeful girlypops <3 

After you turned, you got bad. You had always struggled with depression, however the fae transformation increased that feeling. 

Rhysand noticed first because you were showing the signs that he did after under the mountain.

“You’re taking care of them, so they’ll be okay when you leave.”  He had approached you on the balcony.

You weren’t an idiot. “Sometimes, I do wonder what would happen if I just…” You waved your hands around. “Ceased.” 

“You wouldn’t see Feyre again.” His voice cracked. “She was what was keeping me from…ending it after I got back.” 

“I don’t know the extent of what happened to you.” You began, “but I can fill in the blanks.” 

“How so?” “From one rape victim to another, I can see the signs.” You simply stated.

It was silent and then, “Feyre found me that night.”  Your voice was a whisper in the wind.

He paused, he could feel the sorrow radiating off of you. You swallowed, “she found me abandoned in the woods, that’s where I was taken. At the time, we had no idea who it was, or where he was from. It was close to the wall. Hence how she found me. I had been there since the previous night. Missing for almost a whole day plus a night. She was hunting at night so people wouldn't get greedy when they saw her with prey. She brought me back to the cottage, her dad was asleep, Nesta woke up because I couldn’t get up the steps and she heard a bang.” You sucked in a deep breath, “I couldn’t get up the steps because….he had hurt me too badly.” He put a hand on your shoulder, he wasn’t one for physical affection like this with someone he barely knew, but he knew you needed it.

You didn’t push him away. 

“Fey and Nesta got me up the steps, it was the first time I had seen the two of them work as a team. They got me in the bath, cleaned up the blood that was staining my legs, my…everything.” 

He tried to keep his rage contained, however it was hard, you felt the air turn denser. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rhysand.” You laughed bitterly. “It’s over and done with.” 

“Do you want revenge?” 

You sighed, “Yes, which makes me terrible-”

“No it does not.” He hissed.

You shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” 

After a brief silence he asked, “You said, at the time. Who was it?” 

“He was from the Spring Court. Not Tamlin or Lucien. Or the guy that Fey killed. But now that I am here, and I have the heightened senses. I recognize the different courts, it’s the smell. He smelled like the Spring Court.” 

“Can I see what he looked like?” Rhysand asked. 

You nodded and let him into your mind.

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

During the war, it had completely slipped your mind that you had told Rhys about these things. Or rather showed him the face. Feyre had come back and then you were off fighting a war. Not too much time to dwell on things. 

But, one day you were called to “the torture chamber” as you called it, however Azriel disapproved even though he also agreed. He just didn’t like how blunt you were about it. 

“What is this?” You asked. 

That’s when you could smell it. The smell of dandelions and dewy grass. The smell that had haunted your nightmares long before Hybern had. You saw him tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, his mouth had a gag stuffed in it. Azriel was behind him, Rhysand off to the side and Feyre was behind you, she had come with you. But based off the look on her face, she knew all along. 

“You can either kill him or I will.” 

“Doesn’t this look bad, High Lord?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow. “If this gets out…” 

“Oh it can, I don’t particularly care, let them know I don’t tolerate anyone being raped, let alone someone in my court. Let Tamlin come and try to defend this.” 

“He’s an asshole, but he never raped me.” Feyre walked up and put a sword in your hands. “Gut him like a fish.” 

You took the sword, ready. You looked at him as he wept. “Do you remember me?” 

Silence. 

You lifted his head with the tip of the sword, drawing blood that trickled down the metal. 

Gods, nothing has ever looked so fun. 

“I said, do you remember me?” You asked in an innocent voice. 

He shook his head, screaming around the gag. 

You widened your eyes, mockingly, “you know I screamed that night too.” 

HIs eyes widened, you didn’t know if he was recognizing your scent, or if he had done this to multiple people and he’s trying to figure out which one you were. “You went across the wall, found an innocent sixteen year old girl. A child. You took me out there and you raped me. And then at the end, when I was crying into the dirt, begging for the Mother to put me to sleep so I would stop hurting; do you remember what you said?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer, so you shoved the blade in deeper, causing a bigger waterfall the color of revenge to cascade down the blade. “I asked a question.”

He shook his head. 

You let a cruel smile slip. “You said that with the way I was acting, I had it coming.” You laughed and his eyes widened. “And now, you’ll see what you’ve had coming all these years.” 

With that you moved the sword. He let out a breath, but then saw you go to the table and grab pliers. 

“How many people?” You asked starting with his finger, that’s when you saw the wedding ring. You laughed coldly. “What poor person did you trap?” 

He glared, you smiled and took the pliers and pulled off a fingernail. He screamed around his gag and it was music to you. “I ask again, how many?” 

He kept screaming, so you kept pulling. 

Once you started on the other hand, that’s when he stopped screaming and began nodding. “You’ll tell me?” You asked. 

He nodded so you removed the gag. “Nine.” 

You let out a laugh through your nose. Not a genuine one of course, but one that showed you were about to become even more angry. “Do you remember their faces?” 

He nodded and you looked at Rhysand, “if you’d ever be so kind. I want to pay them a visit.” 

To let them know their monster is dead, and he did not die a slow death. 

Rhysand nodded to let you know, he intruded the male's mind and then left the room with Feyre. 

He would show her their faces, she would draw from memory. Then you would find them to give them peace that he was dead. 

Only Azriel was left in the cell.

Then you smiled again, a twisted and evil one, “and now our fun begins.” 

That’s when you smelled the urine. 

And your smile grew bigger. 

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

The male was later found staked to a rock by the wall. An ice pick through his forehead and his hands, pinning him to the old stone. The word “rapist” was carved into his naked chest. All fingers were broken and nine teeth were pulled out of his mouth. 

Then a letter was sent to eight houses, explaining that their monster was dead and if they chose to, they could see what became of him by going to a certain spot. 

All eight showed up. 

Well nine but no one could see her. No one could see her or the High Lord of Night Court watching. 

“You feel better?” 

You sighed, “murder is bad, however I can rest easy knowing he’s dead.” 

“Yeah, you definitely know he is.” 

You snorted, “I may have had a bit of fun.”

“He definitely deserved it, the thing with his penis though was twisted.” 

You laughed outright at that. “That was Azriel’s touch.” 

Rhysand shuddered, “once again the guy deserved it, but Gods, you filet’d that thing.” 

“They’ll find it in the autopsy.” You shrugged, sipping your hot chocolate, that fought off the cold Sunday morning. 

He lifted his cup over for a cheers and you clinked, and both of you took a sip. “We’re fucked in the head aren’t we?” You said. 

He nodded, “Oh we definitely are. At least we’re surrounded by other fucked individuals.” 

“Cheers to that.” 

And once again you clinked mugs. 

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

The next day you were called into the Feyre and Rhysand’s office, part of you wondered if it meant that the mortals had connected the murder of the Night Court and now you’d have to pay for what you’d done. 

But when you walked in, Feyre was smiling genuinely. 

Rhysand gave her a loving look, “could you at least pretend it’s something bad just to mess with her?” He drawled teasingly. 

“She’s my best friend, she’d know I was lying.” Feyre responded as if Rhysand was dumb. 

Could confirm, you would know. 

“I thought I was your best friend.” Rhysand put a hand to his chest as if he was offended but you both could tell he was not. 

You and Feyre shared a look and rolled your eyes in unison. 

“Can I just know what’s going on?” You asked. 

“We want you to be the Night Court’s Justice.” “...Isn’t that what Azriel is for?” 

“Azriel is for collecting information on enemies. You will basically be an assassin for us.” Rhysand explained. “If you so desire.” 

“Who would I go after?” 

“Anybody that poses a threat to my family.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Someone hurts anyone, including you. Then you have our full permission to slit their throats.” He said. “Obviously, we’d give you assignments. When you don’t have assignments you’d be working alongside Azriel.”

You nodded and then went, “fuck it. Okay.” 

“You don’t want to think about it?” Feyre asked. 

“If I’m taking out people that are like the bastard I just killed, then I will do it. Rapists deserve nothing else.” 

Rhysand smirked, “welcome to the court.”

[changbinsboobs]

what is something u came to learn abt each skz member that really did surprise u or that u might not have thought abt if u were just observing them as a fan?

I def want to answer that again in the future when i have done more readings on them but for now its this:

1. how easy going I.N is. Tbh i though he's pretty stuck up and kind of a snob😅

2. how sneaky felix is. He seems like an innocent sunshine but i think he has a very different side to him that otherwise stays very well hidden.

3. how girlypop chan is. He has a more of a daddy/therapist perona within the fandom and other than that seems very serious and workaholic so i thought his energy would a very "no bullshit" kinda energy but he's very very cool and as i said gives me "girly pop, tea" typa energy.

4. how stuck up hyunjin is. Tbh i did sense that already when watching 2 kids room but i thought its just a small part of him, as we see so much of his fun creative side, but after doing multiple readings on him i believe he's a VERY difficult person to have an relationship with (platonic/romantic whatever, just very difficult)

5. how family oriented seungmin is. Very very mature. If tomorrow news cane out if him having a wife and a 3 year old child, with another in the way - i wouldn't be surprised AT ALL!!!

6. han being much more stable than i thought. Honestly i thought he's a mess and definitely has big problems mentally - doesn't seem like that at all tho in my readings. Gives off a pretty stable energy at least comparing to what i thought before.

7. for leeknow i dont have much as he seems pretty similar to what I've picked up on him beforehand - aside from the fact i thought he's way spicier than he actually is. Now it makes total sense to me, and i actually see where that come sfrom through his behaviour in interviews and more insight that we've gotten about his prsonal life etc, but somehow back then i still thought he would be spicier, being a double scorpio (or scorpio gemini) and all.

8. for changbin theres nothing that surprised me as I've picked up on his energy soooo strongly from the moment i started stanning the group. He's actually the reason i started using tarot, because through him i found out i actually have a gift for things like that. Like i would be cooking(or doing something), and suddenly i get a weird urge to like vent and ramble(with like really specific details), and feel so annoyed and hurt and i keep seeing him and like getting an urge to be held - even tho I have never had thought and feelings of that kind before. Idk how to explain it - u just know its not yours. And i endure it for a few 10-20 minutes, and it doesn't go and suddenly i decide to look if something's happened and then i see a certain live or a video or whatever and everything I've been feeling and hearing suddenly makes perfekt sense. Also had periods of times where he's in my dreams, but disguised and its like really intense. But yeah anyways I've went into too much detail😂 basically everything I've found out about him through tarot, i already knew before. I became interested in tarot primarily because of him and the intense energy I was CONSTANTLY picking up on.

[aguyinthepubliceye]

BREAKING MY SILENCE...

my partner and I have been watching different Ride The Cyclone productions. So far we've watched the off-broadway 2016 production (and just in case i'm mistaken, its the one played by Gus Halper, Alex Wyse, Tiffany Tatreau, etcetc. I will also be referring to this one as the OG even though is not cus im too lazy to type allat again), and some of t he more recent ones done in universities. I think it shocked us both to see the differences in the script. I mostly have qualms and complains around Mischa and Ocean's character. Mischa's has to do with how he's portrayed rather than the scripts, like Ocean's. In the newer ones, Ocean is portrayed as such a mean girl especially with the whole improvisation thing. They made her so superficial when in the original it really felt like she was trying her best to (as repetitive as it sounds) be her best and change the world positively even though it gave her a feeling of superiority for believing she is better than anyone else, that it came from HER being capable of changing the world. And by the end instead of reviving herself, she revives Jane and comes to terms that this is how she will affect the world, through giving someone else the chance to live again. That also means that Penny might not even remember her, and that's a whole lot development for Ocean cus she's not thinking about what her mark will be in the world and the changes SHE will make, but rather giving someone else the opportunity to live is purely selfless cus she gets absolutely NO reward, not even personal achivement or nourishment. It's just character development which kind of looses her effect when she's turned into a smart ass MEAN mean girl with airs of moral superiority that make no sense when she's bullying just because. Basically, yes she does think she can change the world but her superiority comes from moral and ethics, not just cus she's like 'im just better than anyone else cus im so slay yas girlypop'. They just pushed it too far with some of the stuff they changed/added (I will admit the improvisation bit was funny, if only it didnt ruin her character ((imo)) I feel like Mischa is being interpreted much more dumb than he actually is. They make him SUUUCH a himbo but almost fully negatively. It seems like they are putting characters in boxes. I enjoyed the OG because - much like he himself says - he gets hyped about things BUT in Halper's interpretation conserves that ''gangster'' more or less serious/chill persona and it's not just some loud ass class clown type of character. We didn't watch much of talia but even thinking of those interpretations singing Talia clashes so much because it feels so dumb'd down compared to the 'og' since he's kind of stupid and silly so it feels like Talia really is just a silly first love, he's being delusional and shit like that. Instead of the Mischa we first saw who already seemed far more realistic and less stereotypical, so it makes more believable for him to be so in love with Talia and that being the whole argument of his desire to live. GRANTED WHAT WE SAW ARE UNIVERSITY PRODUCTIONS so im not sure they were full on actors but still, it bothered me so much to see that twice, i had to get it out of my system bro. No hate to the actors tho these things happen, whateverrr anyway gus halper slayed that role, i have yet to see a Mischa that has so much ACTUAL passion and doesnt dumb down his rage thanks for listening im done yapping please dont yell at me thanks x2!!

[etoiile]

"BE BRAVE"

starring chigiri hyoma!

synopsis: after being your roommate for a little over half a year, chigiri can say without a doubt that he's never met someone like you. you're sweet, funny, and just a great friend. but what happens when he wants to be more than that?

warning(s): not proofread but im p sure i didnt grammar correctly, mild swearing, gender neutral reader

notes: i want him your honor

"im back.." you mumbled, kicking off your shoes and practically throwing yourself onto the couch.

"well, dont you sound energetic." he joked as he turned off his phone and sat down next to you. "rough day?"

"ugh you cant even begin to imagine." you grumbled. "shit day. start talking. distract me."

"hmm..." he thought. "my day was pretty uneventful. i got let out early and just caught up on some stuff."

"who were you texting earlier? got any tea?" you questioned sleepily with a yawn. gossip sessions with chigiri were your absolute favorite. whenever he texted someone, there was usually some sort of news. plus, he gossiped like a girl and you were here for it. (sorry but chi is just so freaking canonically girlypop)

"nah. i wish, though. just talking to my older sister about some... stuff." he trailed off, racking his brain for a new subject.

"you hungry?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen.

"yeah. will you carry me?" you asked tiredly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you were too tired to move on your own.

chigiri rolled his eyes at you, but still let you climb onto his back regardless.

as he carried you to the kitchen, he couldn't help the way his heart would leap out of his chest every time you left out a sleepy groan or would shift a little in his hold before nuzzling into his back. he couldn't help but imagine being here with you, in this apartment, though not as roommates or even friends, but lovers. he couldn't help how he could never be mad at you, despite what he'd say. he couldn't help how every time you did literally anything, he could feel himself falling deeper in love with you.

"well, think about it this way, chi." his sister had texted. "you've got two choices before you. confess or dont. correct?"

"yeah"

"WRONG. there's only one choice. by doing nothing, youre doing nothing but self torture. you'll always be thinking about how much you want to hold her but cant, and you'll have to watch her go on dates and even get ready for them. obvi, thats no fun. imo, just go for it, honestly. gotta be brave, yk?"

at the time, chigiri said something along the lines of, "maybe i will, maybe i wont. we'll see." before turning off his phone to greet you.

now, as he thinks about his feelings, he's never been more sure. he's never felt this way about anybody else before. its not like his past relationship where it was thrilling and exciting but exhausting. the way he feels with you is different. you feel safe. warm. comforting. you feel like a warm, sunny breeze after a cold rain. you feel like home. you feel like warmth. you feel like love.

he gently set you down at the kitchen counter before heading to the fridge.

"we dont have much food because SOMEBODY forgot to buy groceries." he teased. "we have fruit, eggs, bread, tobiko roe, rice, and instant ramen."

"yeah, yeah. anyways.." you then started batting your lashes at him like a maniac. "would you mind making me some ramen, my dear, sweet chichi?"

chigiri's heart leapt at the use of the word "my." he could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he quickly turned around.

"yeah, yeah, as you command." he rolled his eyes (for the 349348th time) and got to work.

"dont forget the eggs!"

"just be brave," his sister had said.

pfft. "just be brave?" give him a break! it just wasn't that simple. he couldn't risk the friendship most beloved to him. he just couldn't!

he watched as the seasoning gently bubbled with the noodles as he gently stirred the pot with a pair of wooden chopsticks, humming along to a tune he'd heard on your playlist absentmindedly.

"CHIGIRI?!" you suddenly yelped, clearly taken aback.

"what? is something wrong?" he asked calmly but concerned, praying that you weren't hurt as he set down the chopsticks and ran to you.

his cheeks were met by your palms as you squished his face together. "you're humming "cruel summer" by taylor swift! ive done it! youre a swiftie!" you let go as you squealed and leaped for joy, jumping about.

"chigiri's a swiftie! chichi is a swiftie!"

he chuckled as he watched your antics when suddenly, you crashed into him as you jumped.

you looked up from his chest and were met with his gorgeous pink orbs. it stunned you for a moment. they were so captivating, like they were gently chorusing a beautiful melody. you felt yourself sinking into them when suddenly, you realized the position you were in.

there was maybe an inch or two separating your lips from his. flustered, you quickly drew back, though you didnt exactly want to.

"sorry! um, my bad. i was just thinking! about how your eyes? uh... about how taylor swift has... uh... actually, what am i saying I WAS ACTUALLY-" you stammered as you tried to find an excuse for lingering much too long in his arms. staring into his beautiful eyes. on his chest. his muscular, toned, delicious... STOP.

suddenly, chigiri felt something. it wasn't embarrassment, it wasn't anxiety, it was... bravery.

gently gliding over to your flustered and still stammering figure, chigiri took your hands and looked you in the eye, freezing you.

"y/n, youre my one of my best friends." he said, his melodic voice gently wafting through the air. he then gently leaned down to your ear and in a low whisper, said:

"the thing is though, i dont want you like a best friend."

you were left frozen.

"a lyric from "dress." not bad, am i right?" he asked with a sly grin.

as the great taylor swift said, (in "its time to go") when the words of a sister come back in whisper, he realized that his sister was, as much as he hated to admit it, right. all he needed was to be brave.

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[1-siracha]

i have a personal headcannon that since solomon is old as hell, his humor is a little.. outdated.

asmodeus, showing solomon a new makeup look he made: do you like it?

solomon: oh em gee, slay girlypop!

asmo: is this because im a femboy

leviathan: lets go!! we cleared the final boss!!

solomon: *stands up and slowly hits the dab*

leviathan: ... 😨

lucifer: mammon, it seems you have failed this test. you know what happens now.

solomon: emotional damage

mammon and lucifer: get the FUCK out of this office

mc: ...wait, is this spell intentionally wrong?

solomon: hahaha get trolled mlg airhorn noise troll face

mc: ive FUCKING HAD IT *summons all seven brothers*

[yunhonumeris1fane]

Evening • JYH/OT8

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡

"Hanging out with the guys is never a good idea. Even if it's fun, something unfortunate is bound to happen"

Pairing - bf_yunho x reader, ot8

Genre - fluff

Warnings - none

You loved weekends, it was the only time of the week you could rot in bed and stay at home. But now that your social circle has added up to 7 friends and 1 special case, that you’re dating, there isn’t a thing called peace. You can’t just sit on the couch and do nothing, cause they always find something to bother you with.

“Y/n!” your name is called out by Jongho.

“Miss”

“What did you do?” You avert your gaze from the tv screen and notice Jongho, looking like a guilty little guy.

“How did you know?” He is taken aback. You already know so much about them, it’s not hard to predict them.

“Well…Ehm, Wooyoung broke your desk chair” Jongho spills the tea and is ready to be be scolded, but you keep your mouth shut.

“IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS JONGHO, HE’S LYING!!” Wooyung runs down the stairs in distress.

“No it wasn’t me!” Jongho fights him back and now you’re unsure of who’s to blame. Jongho is typically a self collected person, rarely breaking anything or causing too much chaos, on the other hand Wooyoung…

“Yes it was you!” Wooyoung acuses him, “Y/n, I was trying to fix the chair and Jognho ran away, he intended to make it like it was my fault” he turns to you, explaining every little detail.

“Did you fix it?” You inquire, as Wooyoung shakes his head.

“I wasn’t able to resuscitate the chair, it’s dead, I’m sorry, I did the best I could” Wooyoung pats your shoulder as you glare at Jongho, who quickly makes his way out of your sight, not wanting to be a dead meat.

“Okay. From now on, don’t go to my room anymore and don’t touch anything that is breakable”, You instruct him, walking over to the kitchen, where San, Mingi and Seonghwa are attempting to make dinner. It’s a bad combination, you don’t have high expectations, only hope that the kitchen doesn’t get destroyed.

“To us everything is breakable” Wooyoung comments and follows you around like a puppy.

“How are things here, I hope it’s better” You ask the guys, who are making tonkatsu over rice.

“Everything's good! It’s going to be delicious Y/n!” San exclaims, already drooling seeing the tonkatsu frying in the pan.

“At least one good thing” You sit down behind the kitchen island and wait patiently for the guys to finish cooking. When the pork cutlet is done, Mingi cuts it into bite size pieces, stabs it with a fork and brings it to your mouth. “It’s good, wow” you chew on it, humming in delight as Mingi’s face instantly lights up, happy that the food is actually more than edible.

When he goes back to cooking, you watch them talking to each other while preparing the dinner. It’s nice having people cooking for you, as you rarely had anyone to do that for you, instead it was always you doing it. It’s also fun seeing them looking so girlypop, cooking in a pink kitchen apron. What a sight.

Once they finish with the main dishes, they start preparing the side dishes. You get bored of sitting around, so you make your way upstairs to your room, to see the damage. The chair is not even near to fixable, the seat and the support is completely broken in half, the only thing you can do about it is buy a new chair. As you put the broken parts away in the corner of the room, you hear banging and yelling coming from the bathroom, that’s right in front of your room. It’s Mingi.

“Are you okay?” You get closer to the door, making sure he’s not dying or something

“I’m stuck Y/n, help, I can’t open the door!” He shouts, panicking.

“Have your tried unlocking it?” You suggest, but he takes it as a sarastic remark.

“I’m not that stupid”

“Okay, step away from the door” You inform him and immediately get to action, kicking the door a couple of times, you twist the handle and bam! it opens.

“Waaa, you should get a new door” Mingi walks out of the room, pointing out your poor quality house items.

“It’s expensive, why buy it when you kick it a couple of times and it’s back to normal” You reason with him as he stares at you in disbelief.

“It scares your guests, Yeosang was stuck in the bathroom last week too”

“Too bad. Let’s head downstairs, Yunho and the others gonna be here soon” You suggest, as you head towards the stairs.

“I can’t believe this” He murmurs, as you turn to him.

“what”

“Before you, he used to text me first, now he’s replacing me with you” He pouts, making you let out a soft laugh.

“He’s not”

“He is” he disagrees.

“He still talks about you”

“Reaallyy?” Mingi tilts his head as his eyes soften for a moment, “I bet if we were drowning together, he would save you”

“Why would we be drowning” You inquire, finding his words ridiculous.

“In tears of sadness”

“Who’s tears?” You're puzzled, not catching on.

“In my tears of sadness” He mumbles, ready to walk down the stairs.

“Why would you- AH!” Your question is quickly interrupted by Mingi missing a step and tripping down the stairs. But he’s not selfish, he takes you together with him, as your ankle twists and your butt meets the stairs. And here you are, together with Mingi, falling down the stairs, ever so ungracefully. The thunder-like sound attracting curious visitors in your house. What a great evening.

“what the-'' Seonghwa's mouth drops open, seeing you both sprawled over the floor. Mingi’s grabbing his back, hissing in pain as you’re holding onto your ankle. They show no mercy, everyone except Seonghwa fall to the ground, unable to hold in their laughter.

“Yah, why did you drag me down! Is this a part of your revenge plan?” You punch Mingi in his arm, who is quick to ditch the accusations. He doesn’t say anything, still on the floor, his upper body resting against the wall uncomfortably. You frown at him, still laying on the floor, your head on the first step of the stairs.

And if it isn’t awkward enough, the rest of the rest of the boys enter the house, shocked by the view in front of them.

“What happened here?” Hoonjoong approaches the crime scene with his hand over his mouth and eyes wide open.

“You two okay?” Yunho bends down to check on you and Mingi.

“Can’t feel my butt” Mingi whines, rubbing his hands over his back, to soothe the pain.

“Are you okay?” Yunho places his hand on your calf as you sit up.

“I’m fine, let’s go eat” You push him away and grab the staircase for support, trying to stand up, but the sharp pain in your ankle instantly hits you, making you shiver.

“Your ankle doesn’t look good, you sure you okay?” Seonghwa takes a closer peek at your ankle, it’s bruised.

“It’s hurts but it’s fine”

“Go to your room and rest, we’ll bring the dinner to you” Seonghwa assures you “take her to her room ‘kay?” Seonghwa speaks to Yunho who nods and wraps his arms around you, lifting you up and heading upstairs.

“I could have walked to my room myself” You protest, but he doesn’t listen, continuing his way over to your room, with you safe in his arms

“What about me?” Mingi inquires, hands raised like a toddler's, wanting to be picked up.

“Go help Yeosang and Hoongjoong set up the table” Seonghwa pats him on his head and returns to the kitchen.

“What happened to the chair?” Yunho asks, as he lays you down on the bed, covering your body with a fluffy blanket.

“Jongho broke it, I don’t even know how” You explain, a nervous laughter escapes through his lips.

“I’m sorry, I’ll buy a new one, as a compensation” Yunho offers, but you shake your head in disapproval.

“Jongho broke it, Jongho buy it!”

“If you say so” He smiles, as he takes your hand, his thumb drawing circles on your palm, “do you need painkillers?” He asks, noticing the tight grip of your hand.

“I’ll be fine”

“The food is here!” Seonghwa walks into the room, holding a plate in one hand, cutlery in another. He places the plate on the nightstand, “Eat up”

“Thanks” You smile at him and he leaves to join the rest of the guys in the dining room, leaving you and Yunho in your room.

“Let’s eat and then you take a nap” Yunho says, cutting the tonkatsu and guiding it to your mouth. In less than 10 minutes the plate is almost clean, the last spoon of rice is left, but you’re too stuffed.

“I’m so full” You whine, as Yunho places his index finger on your chin and manually opens your mouth to stuff the final spoon of rice.

“That’s it” He glances at you frowning while chewing the last bits of the meal, “I’ll go eat now, I’ll check up on you later okay?” with that he takes the dishes in one hand and while other one runs through your hair, agressively, yet lovingly messing up your hair.

“Mhm” You hum and watch him leave the room.

Now that you’re alone, you sigh, the ankle pain and the full stomach is making you really uncomfortable. You straighten out the pillow and lay on your side, closing your eyes, trying to fall asleep at least for a little bit.

About an hour passes by and the guys are all gathered in your room. The noisiness coming from them wakes you up from your nap. Once you’re conscious, you feel like the pain in your ankle has gotten worse.

“I think you should get it checked out by a doctor. It might be broken or something” Hoongjoong suggests, looking at your ankle, the discoloration is even more visible now.

“Yah, Mingi you broke her leg” Wooyoung points out, giving Mingi a judging look.

“Jongho's out of cast, but Y/n is now in one" Seonghwa observes the situation, standing by the bed, hands crossed over his chest.

"Dont be dramatic, I'm not in one yet" You scoff at Seonghwa’s assumptions.

"I'm sorry Y/n" Mingi steps forward, apologizing to you. He really looks sad, you want to hug him.

"It's okay, even if it wasn't you, I would have tripped over something anyways. Born clumsy always clumsy" You try to cheer him up, but he still is worried, “It’s okay Mingi” You assure him,

“I’ll take her to E.R” Yunho speaks up, lifting himself off the bed as the others agree.

“I don’t need the hospital” You block his arms that are reaching out for you.

“Then you want your leg amputated?” Seonghwa asks in a firm tone.

You don’t say a single word and give up fighting, as you find yourself in Yunho's arms once again.

After a long hour in the waiting room of the hospital, you’re told the exact thing Seonghwa said earlier, “You will need a cast”.

"But it's not that bad, it doesn't even hurt thay bad" You try to reason with the doctor.

"Miss, if you don't wear the cast, your bones will heal incoretly, leading to even more issues in the future" the doctor calmly explains the situation.

"It's okay, it's only for a couple weeks, it will fine" Yunho assures you as you nod and the doctor together with the nurse proceed with the treatment.

And once you're back home, you're attacked by the guys, questioning you about everything, not leaving you alone.

"Aww, how are you feeling, does it hurt a lot?" San gently pats your shoulder, as he questions you.

"Told ya" Seonghwa and Yeosang high five each other, as they were the only ones that knew for sure you'd get a cast.

"Is there anything you need, ask me anything If you need anything" Mingi clings to you, feeling guilty about everything that's happened.

"Please, give me some space out here" You lift one crutch in the air, as the guys immediately move away, "I would like to go to sleep"

"We'll help you" Mingi and San push Yunho away from you and together help you go upstairs to your room. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho following the three of you as well.

"They just stole your girl" Yeosang glances at Yunho, who is baffled.

"They did..."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡

A/n A little drabble based on my recent dream. Also the pic doesn't fot the vibe of the story, but he is just a fine azz man ^~^

[sky-forts-and-burning-citadels]

Frore Flames II - Torrid

Summary: It seems even after scraping against death, your love for the seemingly unattainable remains untouched...

Warnings: Hospitals, OOC Geode, thesaurus-level lingo.

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Have fun with Googling the definitions to words, because I definitely forgot about the sheer amount of over-descriptive shit I made ROFL.

Your eyes ached; the darkness of their lids shielding you from the dim lights that threatened to shine past its pitch darkness, morphing the dark shrouds into muted cacophonies of flame-oranges and honey-yellows.

“Hnn…”

You wonder, briefly, if you’re even still alive. The torrid birching of summer had cooked your flesh, fried your mind-circuits and seared your soul…but this didn’t feel like summer.

Your body feels toasty, as if a warm spring breeze was gently caressing its balmy palms over your unmoving form. Gently soothing and healing the harsh burns that summer’s scorching ornery had devastated upon you.

You notice, in your comatose state, that the light has started to grow more radiant, more luminous, more intense; as if a match had been struck inside the gloom and murk of your consciousness, illuminating the umbra in chandeliers of twinkling lights.

You felt yourself gradually commencing the tedious process of reaching the gates of hypnopompia, whilst somewhere far away, a faint beep started piecemealing its way into your mind. Its annoying chiming reverberates in your skull.

Beep…Beep…Beep…

You feel a wave of irritation slash through the numbing murk, shattering the calm into sharp, serrated shards; their whetted edges piercing and dragging their points into the fogged veils of your somnolent state.

If you weren’t waking earlier, you are now.

But your eyelids felt so heavy, so leaden. How could you possibly slip out of your subconsciousness’ anteroom if your body wouldn’t abide by your minds’ commands?

The beeping was becoming more domineering over the murked blur of the quiet noises that encircled your head.

What in the absolute fuck is that shit?

…am I dead? That’d make a lot of sense actually.

The noise began to pulse in your ears, slowly punching your brain-fogged mind into a state of configuration.

You should open your eyes, lift the accursed flesh-lids that curtained them and let the radiance of the world puncture your pupils and blind you.

Aight…MC…you got this girlypop…you got this.

1…2…wait. Nah, that’s fucking stupid. Whoever actually gets up when they count to three is too self-controlled.

What motivates you. That is the query.

Geo…? Geo would whoop my ass for sleeping in.

God he’s fucking awesome.

You hiss, before gingerly opening your weaker eye.

Then you immediately shut it, because, well, your pupils are so used to the shadows that the overhead flare-bright lights have probably blinded them. You wince, a scalding pain begins its fervid assault on your eye socket.

Owie.

You think you swallow. Your throat distinctly — and painfully — aches from the force.

You faintly grimace.

As your cerebrum continues its reboot, your physicality and its wounds become more obvious to you. What once was benumbed progressively became blisteringly arid, parching your skin and clawing at the dried walls of your esophagus.

You think you hear a voice; a heavenly harmony that continues to cautiously pry you from the darkness. A siren, come to guide you towards her island, towards your doom.

But…waking up wouldn’t be your doom, right?

Well. It would be if I happened to be in some psychotic lunatic’s basement. That’d suck.

Either way, you had to assert dominance over your stubborn body.

Okay. Baby steps…baby steps.

You agonisingly slowly begin to open your eyes, aiming to at least squint. Any sign that you were alive was good, especially if you get to hear that beautiful voice again.

Your eyelids pried open a crack, the dazzle of the overhead whites and yellows immediately abusing its power over your weakened eyes.

No…c’mon MC. You’ve got this.

Fortunately, eventually, your eyes began adjusting.

Marvellous. Now…gotta sit up.

You tried to move your arms, testing whether moving them was even a possibility in your current state. You move your focus to your hands, making attempts to flex them or to inch your fingers around, to get a feel for your surroundings.

As soon as your hand left your side, it felt horrifically cold, as if some wraith had exsanguinated all the warmth from your soul and left your body a frore husk. You shamefully retract it into the comfortable cocoon of…blankets?

Oh my god…blankets! I love blankets. Blankets are wonderful.

You felt a surge of joy fill your heart, its unnervingly swift pounding now serving as a steady background drumbeat to the endless, unbounding bliss that you now felt. Alas, the realisation that you needed to alert someone of your consciousness quickly became the priority in your mind.

You also just happened to acknowledge you didn’t have a clue where you fucking were.

You draw in a deep gasp, a thinly veiled storm of frustration suddenly onslaughting your mind, pelting your brain with orders to fucking do something.

“H-. Hell…Hello…?”

Your voice comes out faint and rasped, as if your voice box had rusted to near-irreparability and your tongue had been encased in lead.

“Oh?! Oh my goodness!”

Your ears perk up.

It’s that voice…the pretty one.

The silhouette of a woman comes into view, her head blotting out the ceiling lights and leaving her face anonymous under the shroud of darkness.

“Oh my…I’ll alert the doctor, please relax for now!”

. . .

The next few hours passed by in a blur of boring examinations, excessive interviews with some wacko journalists — who were curious about why the famous, privileged, alleged ‘sex-fiend’ Geo Oogami was seen with you in his car (you were so discombobulated with their choice of nickname that water spouted out your nose like it was a fountain).

Now here you lay, stultified, annoyed and exhausted. The emotional toll it had taken to recall why you decided to lie out in a hailstorm was…immense. You cried multiple times in front of the nurses and doctors, who were demanding every piece of information that they deemed necessary for healing you. Also the consistent beeping of the nearby heart rate monitor was pissing you off, but you understood its pricelessness.

As expected, you had hypothermia, and would have to remain here for at least a week under supervision to ensure your organs and bodily tissues hadn’t suffered any long-lasting or permanent complications.

You were thankfully allowed to read books after about a day, so now at least your crippling, (and very lethal) boredom had a temporary fix.

“MC?”

The angelic voice called out again. The woman – Timea was her name, if you recall correctly — stood in the doorway, before swiftly entering and checking your vitals. After deeming your current state as satisfactory, she turns to you.

“I hear you have a visitor.”

You blinked. You? A visitor? Who the fuck would visit you?

What the shit?

You sit up, the sheets rustling under your weight as you turn to look at the doorway.

And from the unseen depths of the corridor, painted in gilded light, a wild Geo Oogami emerged, his icy turquoise eyes staring right into yours.

You swear you forgot how to breathe.

May God Himself preserve you because if this hypothermia doesn’t kill you, the asphyxiation will. Frankly, you don’t exactly care, you’re too busy gazing upon the angelic, elegant face that belongs to the man who sits at your side.

“...Why.”

His voice was like a gong, short and straight-to-the-point; yet so firm and demanding that it left you stunned.

His eyes were filled with a thousand shards of broken glass, each one having once belonged to a mosaic birthed of the stars themselves. Maybe the mosaic was like his heart, cold and sharply-edged, yet so beautiful you couldn’t help but look at it with love.

Wouldn’t that mean his heart is shattered though?

“Why what?” Your query seems to have stilled the air, stilled the molecules in the entire room. Geo looked like he’d been frozen in time, before his face turned bitterly ornery.

“Why the fuck did I find you sitting practically naked in the middle of a storm, then have to watch as you die in my car, then have to pay over 10 grand in fines for speeding you to this bloody hospital?”

His voice was far more hiemal and frosty than whatever you’d felt during that storm. It was as if 0° Kelvin itself had been personified, given a permafrozen heart and the voice of a cold wind-whip. You shiver slightly, but how could you not? Like before, you were now in the direct vicinity of the princeling of winter himself. A very unhappy one, at that.

It was never a good idea to provoke or challenge the wintry wrath of Geo Oogami. Unfortunately, you weren’t exactly the wisest person to have ever lived; a hot burst of annoyance flashed before your eyes, splattering your peripherals in a thousand shades of crimson and scarlet.

“I had my reasons. There’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.”

The scattered shards in his irises seemed to form into serrated points, each one aimed directly at you, as if his eyes themselves wanted to carve you into pieces.

“Need not worry…? Need. Not. Worry?”

He paused, a small vein prodding under the skin of his temple. You gulped.

“Are you demented?”

He was malding now, a spine-chillingly livid anger in his eyes.

“You could’ve died in my car, under my watch, and it’s not something to be worried about?”

“Aren’t I a nuisance to you either way? What difference would it’ve made if I died?”

The words are caustic for the walls of your mouth, leaving a bitter coating on your tongue. You’d thought this way for years, yet having your thoughts be thrown into the expanse of the real world, in front of a real man was…different. Especially considering the fact you idolised, respected…maybe even loved this man.

His face was a vial; a potion concocted of shock, disdain and woe slowly morphing the fury into a condensed cloud of sorrow. One that was now waiting to let loose its tears, to pour rain onto the barren soils of the earth beneath.

“How dare you.”

And so, Winter himself looked you in the eye, piercing the veil of whatever hallowed thing was keeping your emotions safely hidden. The aquamarine depths seemed to be slowly exsanguinating you of reason, of any form of logical function. You wanted to drown in them.

Aight. MC. Stop staring at him, he already resents you, he doesn’t need you to fawn over him like that.

You decide to survey the room you were in, it would be easier than continuing to peer into the unknown depths of his eyes.

White walls. White tiled floor. A couple of pretty paintings. Some fake plants.

A slender bejewelled hand firmly latched onto your chin, steadily, almost like the arms on a clockface, he moved your head towards his.

His hand feels tense, his gelid fingertips bruising the warmth of your flesh. To your left, the bed seems to sink, as if a weight had been strapped unto it.

You still don’t look at him, instead opting to (cautiously) check out his thighs. They were covered by his usual dark pants, the brown fabric ripped and torn in a multitude of places.

God he’s so beautiful.

“You are as much of a nuisance to me as I am unstylish — not in the slightest.”

His voice was monotone, yet — unlike earlier — within its melodious notes was a soft melancholic chime; as if his voice had revamped itself into the epitome of dejection and despondency.

You were as astonished as he was uncomfortable.

Then you felt yourself lose every manner of self control as you began to sob your ghastly heart out.

Fucks’ sake MC. Can’t do jackshit right can you?

You feel a few torrid tears leap over the cliffs of your eyelids and crash onto his pale flesh. His eyes follow the wet trails down your face, before smearing it across your cheek.

You felt yourself losing grip over your mind again, trying to catch onto the grains of whatever cognition you had.

Whatever your brain had repressed from that horrific night was flooding through your consciousness, sweeping you off your feet and leaving you stranded on an island in the storm that was your eternal, unbounding sorrow.

But you supposed that’s one of the reasons why you loved Geo oh-so much. He was cold, hard logic; an anchor for your restless, maladaptive thoughts. His chill soothed the hot anger that pulsed beneath you, both from your fate and at the world for stuffing you into a school where you’d never thrive.

But destiny had its ways, you suppose; for even the most treacherous, onerous and dolorous of winters will eventually (and willingly) surrender to the balmy nature of a newborn spring.

“Whatever it was that led you to commit such a stupid act…I hope you can one day entrust me with the context and reasons.”

“That almost sounds like you care, Geode.”

“Hm. Perhaps.”

You feel his hand, rings and all, land atop your head; before gently, softly, stroking your hair. The tears still fell down your face, but the despair slowly fell muted as you gingerly placed your head on Geo’s shoulder and closed your eyes.

If you’d had your way, you would’ve squished him to death, but you couldn’t afford to push this. Whatever this was.

“Promise me something, MC.”

There’s that monotone voice again…

You give a small thumbs-up in affirmation.

“Promise me that you’ll come to me before you resort to such an extreme act. No matter how stupid it may be to you.”

He lowers his hand, it now lurking near yours; and you feel a small ray of confidence shine through the murk of your paranoia.

“...okay.”

And now, cautiously, almost as if fate Herself was puppeting you; you felt your hand grasp the slender fingers of him.

Touch him, partake in a quick, fleeting moment of heavenly contact.

To your surprise?

It wasn’t short, or brief, or sudden.

It felt more purposeful than every breath you’d fucking taken, hell even Geo looked a tad astounded by the prolonged contact.

Your soul feels a little lighter now.

Maybe the enigmatic winter himself would learn to accept the dawn of a flowery, dainty spring. Maybe he’d even accept himself. And hopefully you’d accept yourself too.

[roadhogsbigbelly]

if i had a nickel everytime they gave junkrat a girlypop epic skin and put him a stadium i'd have 2 nickels, which isn't alot but it's weird it happened twice.

[14muffinz]

4/?

C1 (and prompt) / C2 / C3 / C4

She should really be used to being alone by now.

When she’d finally been settled enough in her own skin, the first thing she’d wanted to do was fly far, far away from Amity, explore the world that she’s just been given the opportunity to experience. She was twelve, simultaneously in weeks and months, and the thought of being tied to a person or place made her skin crawl and bile threaten to spill from her throat.

It’d been good, too, is the thing. Nothing was stopping her from being who she wants to be, and there was no need to look over her shoulder. It was interesting, and it was exhilarating.

Ellie spins on her heel just to feel the pressure, and restarts her circuit of the hallway.

Somehow, the most fucked up part of it all, to her, is that her entire half-life got rearranged by a single phone call. She remembers Sam’s voice, quivering and threatening to give out, and Danny’s roaring anger. She remembers “Vlad fucking snapped” and she remembers “you need to get to a portal now” and she remembers running, but she doesn’t remember the explanation for arriving back in Amity to find the Ops Centre as a crushed heap of metal in the street, and a hole in the roof peering into the Dr’s bedroom.

The air had reeked of fear and despair, that’s the most distinct thing to her, now. Danny, Sam, and Tucker were all in the lab. Danny had a thermos suspended in midair using an ectoshield, and it was jerking with the strength of Vlad’s pounding on the walls.

Taking Vlad to Walker’s prison had been long overdue, and had then turned into a two person job. Danny had left as soon as the transfer was completed, but Ellie stayed as long as she could, not trusting Vlad not to break out as soon as he was left unattended.

By the time she’d tried to go back to Amity, all the artificial portals had been barricaded.

She reaches the other end of the hallway. She turns sharply again on her heel. Logic dictates that these are the highest security cells in the Infinite Realms (at least, the part that could be travelled to in a reasonable amount of time), but Danny once broke out of this prison, which means that Vlad could do the same at any moment.

Ellie cannot falter. She doesn’t know why the portals had to be blockaded, but she knows that the barriers have not been disturbed since. What she knows is that it happened after Vlad’s attack, which means that it’s crucial that he not be let back into Amity.

No matter how much it hurts. No matter how much her silent Fentonphone taunts her.

⠀

⠀

“Hey, girlypop,” Ember greets, gliding in like she owns the place, despite Walker glaring her down.

Ellie still remembers the moment where Ember had discovered girlypop as being a fairly common bit of living slang. Based on her initial reaction, it won’t be leaving her vocabulary for at least a decade or two.

She tries her best to manage a grin in response, but she knows that it’s weaker than her usual. Growing up sucks. She can see the concern in Ember’s eyes, even as she rushes forward to give Ellie a tight embrace that she gratefully leans into.

When they part, she gives Ellie a smirk, and then glances to Walker standing stiffly at her side. “Wanna get outta here before the old man skins me to double-death?” She prompts.

She looks at the door leading to Vlad’s maximum security cell. Ellie doesn’t know if she can leave him unguarded.

Gruff as always, but with a feeling of caring that slips out the longer Ellie knows him, Walker says, “I’ll take up your shift, kid. You need a break.”

Walker… well, he can’t be trusted, but his prison has been the only fully functional one in the realms for a long, long time, and he still commits a sizeable portion of his afterlife to improving it.

And right now, catching up with Ember sounds really, really nice.

So the two allow themselves to be led out of the prison, and don’t stop their forward momentum until they’re flying through the Realms, presumably in the direction of Ember’s lair.

She spins so she’s flying upside down, because while there’s not really a sense of up or down in the realms aside from the one you’re currently following, allowing herself a bit of silliness is always a comfort. “You heard from D?” Ellie asks, unable to make the question sound hopeful. She doesn’t have hope, because if Ember was contacted and not Ellie, that probably means he didn’t have time to contact everyone he usually would.

She’d worry that Danny simply forgot about her, but she knows that he isn’t like that. They don’t call often, but without fail, he’ll know what country, and even sometimes what city, she was visiting when she last checked in. She doesn’t think she’s capable of doubting him anymore.

They don’t have lungs to sigh from, but Ember manages a similar effect. “Nah, I’m pretty sure everyone on the other side are too freaked to use any ghost tech, even in Amity.”

She flips back around. “Woah, woah, what? Why!?”

Ember stops her forward momentum, and Ellie does the same, tail lashing. “Shit, girlypop, you haven’t heard?”

Ellie can feel an ectobeam charging around her clenched fists, so all she can do is hope that it doesn’t hit anyone or anything when she has to release it. “Heard what?”

For a moment, Ember looks like she’s trying to offer comfort, but it vanishes behind her mask. “The ghost hunters ‘been cracking down. Nobody’s allowed to go through the portal, and the whole Phantom squad had to skip town. Me ‘n Syd have been working our asses off to keep people from breaking the barriers.”

As she speaks, Ellie can feel everything in her grow progressively colder and colder, until her entire body goes numb.

Unceremoniously, she drops her flight, falling for ancients-know-how-long before dropping onto patchy blue grass. She stretches her arms so that they both wrap all the way around her, and she’s half-aware of her body becoming more malleable as she fights to control the breaths from the phantom lungs of her ghost form.

⠀

⠀

It takes far too long for things to begin feeling real again.

She finds Ember’s tail tightly curled around one of her legs, and can feel the hum of someone transferring ecto in order to help her stabilise.

“I’m sorry,” she croaks, because it’s all she can find the words for.

Ember gives a soft pat before backing away. “It’s fine. It’s a real shit situation to be in, and we don’t got a way to help.”

No shit.

That’s not a very productive thing to say, so instead, Ellie asks, “Do you know if they all made it out of Amity okay?”

Ember purses her lips.

⠀

⠀

“Skinwalker!” the figment of Pamela Manson cries. “Monster!” added Jeremy Manson. “Spectral scum!” Cried the GIW agents who’d chased her down the streets.

Bubbie had slept through the whole thing. Sam doesn’t know who she would have sided with, and doesn’t know whether or not she wants to find out.

Sam runs a hand through her hair, and turns up the volume on her phone. She forces herself to breathe in, breathe out, and focus on the music. If she focuses on anything else, then they’ll have to waste another hour on the road before they can finally stop for dinner.

Tucker presses against her side. Despite there being a perfectly usable window seat, he consistently takes the middle seat in order to stick to Sam’s side. He and Val have been playing digital battleship since the last stop, not bothering to tally up their wins. Currently, this round is looking like a win for Tuck.

Jazz slightly tweaks the temperature, so slight that it’s likely not noticeable. Sam can’t hear much past her music, but there’s a speaker on the car door next to her, and she can feel the hum of Jazz’s audiobook.

In movies, being on the run involves much more adrenaline and car chases.

In movies, ghosts aren’t the good guys.

In movies, it’s not a bunch of kids who haven’t even done anything wrong.

Unfortunately, this isn’t a movie, and Sam tries hard to remain calm as she switches from Panic at the Disco to Avril Lavigne, because in real life, letting herself yell or cry could put them all in jeopardy.

She cannot think about Pamela and Jeremy, the hatred they aimed at her based purely on the GIW’s word. She cannot think about Bubbie, waking up to find out that Sam had been kicked out of her home. She cannot think about Danny, who’d been a shell of himself when they’d set out on the road, and who broke off a month ago with barely a goodbye.

[loops-n-boops]

out of a whole page of doodles this is the only one I like

we're figuring out how to draw him, it's gonna take a bit but it'll happen I swear

anyway though I promised hc so that's exactly what Imma do now

Headcanons here !!

He's bi but does not understand what bisexuality is. He talked about an ex boyfriend from when he was in highschool and when Harley asked if he was bisexual he looked at her and went "the fuck did you just call me??"

idc what anyone says he CANNOT flirt. He has 0 game romantically unless someone being bad at flirting is cute to you. He'll go to lean against walls but fall, he'll mess up his pickup lines, he is not a flirting legend sorry

Had nightmares about the Teletubbies at one point. Some say he still gets them

He desperately wants to go to build a bear workshop and get matching build a bears with someone, ANYONE

Most likely to storm a 7/11 at 1 am

He sings in the shower (aftermath depicted in art above)

While he does listen to glam rock and glam metal in my head, he also has his fair share of girlypop 2000's stuff sprinkled in there (his go to karaoke songs)

Loves mango flavored stuff

Shockingly makes a mean handmade lemonade