#it’s been four years but I still have not recovered

[forgotteneffigy]

The Most Convenient Inconvenience

⋆ kento nanami x coworker!reader - read part two , here ⋆

word count : 2k+ ⋆₊˚⊹

Nanami sighs softly through his nose.

He can hear you moan your complaints into the side of his arm. Usually, he wouldn't allow for such unprofessional behavior, but since you were basically hobbling forward on one shoe and wearing his jacket for warmth, he'll allow it. Only this once, though, Nanami mentally tells himself.

As if to add to your embarrassment and suffering, the bakery you wanted to go to was closed. The sign on its glass doors taunting you with big, bold letters notifying the public of its closure for the night.

“Oh, come on!” He hears you say, Nanami can feel your grip on his arm tighten when you reach the bakery you promised to take him to after work. “It's not even that late!” You roll your head to the side, looking at the bakery doors as if looking at them long enough would make them magically open.

“You are not a child (L/N).” Nanami says calmly, gently pulling you away from the bakery doors. He didn't want to draw any more unnecessary attention towards the two of you.

Nanami wasn't blind. It was already an odd sight for those around you already, you clinging onto his arm for balance as you walked through the city. The weight of strangers's eyes on the way you held onto his arm didn't go unnoticed by him.

For some reason, Nanami had a feeling that Gojo was teasing him already for what he was about to do.

Nanami looks around for a nearby bench. Once he spots one, he leads you to it, helping you down to sit down. “I've been in the area before.” He states, kneeling down to button up his coat.

“Stay here and stay warm. You're in no condition to walk, and I don't want you to get sick.” After you give him an answering nod, Nanami gets up, dusting off his slacks.

He hated working overtime, but he just had to make sure you were okay. He had to.

The mission you just had was intense, even for him. Another reminder of how shitty working as a jujutsu sorcerer work was. A part of him was glad that his suit didn't get caught in the crossfires during the fight.

The other part of him wished he could've done more to protect you.

Nanami pulls out his phone as he waits in line with his basket. He checks his phone for any signs from you. Nothing. He didn't know if he should be worried or glad that you weren't wasting your energy recovering to text him something.

He didn't think he'd be in line for this long, but he keeps his dissatisfaction to himself as he waits his turn, the old lady at the convenience store counter lighting up in recognition of Nanami when he sets his basket down on the counter.

“Back again?” The old lady asks rather cheerfully despite the setting sun creeping in through the automatic store doors. “Only for a little.” He replies shortly out of habit, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I'm here with a..friend.” He adds the last part rather hesitantly. Why would it matter if he told the old lady in front of him if you and him were friends?

Were you friends?

You were coworkers, sure. Went to the same school for four years, diverted onto different paths, and yet here you both were.

Together. Fresh from another life-threatening mission. Just another shitty day in the book for Nanami to grumble about once he's home.

All it took was some words from a convenience store old lady to make him question his entire history with you.

“A friend?” She repeats, bagging the items Nanami had carefully picked out for you. They weren't what he'd typically pick from a convenience store, but these things were for you. Not him.

“You have a good night, you hear me? You and your friend.”

With a friendly, store-approved smile, the old lady hands Nanami his change alongside the plastic bag with the things he had picked out for you inside it.

“I will.” He responds, taking the bag and leftover change.

Nanami walks back to where you were. Legs crossed, his suit jacket still hugging around your shoulders loosely. Something in him softens. He has to remind himself not to mix his personal feelings with his professional ones.

Nanami was a man of his word.

He tried to be, anyway.

He places the bag down on the bench, allowing you to look inside the bag yourself. Lightly, he taps the corner of your phone to get your attention. “Don't waste your battery, I want to make sure that you're home safe.”

He watches as you shuffle your hand around in the bag. Your eyes widen when you pull out a pair of slippers. “Eh? What's this?”

Nanami sits a respectable feet away from you. The only thing separating him from you was the multi-colored plastic bag with the convenience store's logo plastered on the front.

“I got you those as a substitute for your current...shoe situation.” He doesn't bother to look down at your shoes.

Somehow, in the middle of your previous battle, the curse managed to steal one of your boots.

“It's certainly not luxury, but I do hope you like it. It's the least I can..”

“Are you kidding me?”

You laugh, holding up the pair of slippers in your hands like you just struck gold.

Immediately with newfound excitement, you tear open the packaging eagerly, tossing it off to the side so you can try them on. Seeing you so genuinely happy makes Nanami ease up in his seat. The lines on his face seem to soften at the sight of you sliding the slippers on.

“In my favorite color too? How'd you guess, Nanami? You spoil me.”

“I'm just looking out for you, (L/N). Can't have you wobbling around on one foot, can we?”

There's a slight playful hint in his tone, barely hidden by the neutralness of Nanami's usual professional tone. “You really saved me back there. It's the least I can do.” With a tilt of his head, he gazes down at your shoes.

The colorful socks you wore were now accompanied by the new pair of slippers he had just bought you. “They have everything at those stores. Wow.”

You look down at your shoes, your fingertips sliding towards his, against the grain of the bench without noticing it. But Nanami notices. He notices, and he doesn't know if he should pull away or slide his closer.

“Thanks, Nanami. You're still looking after me after all these years, huh?”

Nothing bad would happen to either of you if he just stayed still, right? If he just enjoyed this moment with you as people walked by you without a care.

Undeniably, it felt nice to be with you this way, just sitting next to you. Nanami wonders if you feel that way too, if you truly saw the care behind the practicality of his actions. He was just looking out for you, after all. Just like he said.

Practically and propriety came to him naturally. Nanami tries to convince himself of that as you smile down at your shoes.

Your hands slide down the leg of your pants, adjusting and stretching the fabric of your colorful socks. “Man, I'm starving. Do fighting curses make you hungry too, Nanami?” You ask, your eyes meeting his. You say your question naturally as if it were as normal as asking a friend for a sip of their water.

“I wouldn't say so exactly.” He answers, not quite agreeing or disagreeing with your words. “If you're hungry, just grab whatever. I didn't know if you preferred sweets or…” Nanami cuts his own words short when he sees the look on your face.

The unadulterated look of happiness and appreciation as you grab yourself a snack makes him feel like he's short circuiting.

It's all rushing back to him now, memories of the past he thought he buried down long ago.

The way you fawned over food, reminding him of back when you were both classmates. The shine in your eye as you tried to talk about the smoked salmon stick, haphazardly held in between your fingers, the packaging peeled away messily made Nanami remember all the times you bugged him for his meals during lunchtime.

You were closer to him than he thought.

You were more than a friend to him. And he didn't know if Nanami should laugh or hate himself for not realizing that sooner.

“You shouldn't eat so quickly (L/N).” He fishes out a napkin from the bag. He hesitates to lean closer, to be the one to wipe the crumbs off of your face. You never changed since those days when you shared meals with him, those days where he used to be annoyed at the way you ate like your life depended on it.

Nanami could never be annoyed with you.

He leans closer. As gently as he could, he wipes the crumbs off of your face. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lip. “The food isn't going anywhere. You don't have to eat so quickly.”

Nanami pulls away again, back into the box he pushes himself in.

“Sorry, Nanami.” The chub of your cheeks puff out as you smile, looking content with your meal.

“Just..” He looks at you, and he sees the same face he's grown used to for years. The happy chub of your cheeks.

You felt comfortable enough to be like this with him, and he didn't know how to feel about that either.

“Be careful.” He finishes, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie to give him a chance to look away and collect himself.

“Don't choke, please.” He adds, his hands stiffly laying on his knees. In the tail of his eye, he can see you laughing. He didn't know if it was because of his stiffness or his tone, but he didn't mind. Not when it was you.

You sit quietly next to him, wiping the crumbs off of your face and tossing the remains into the bag like a makeshift trash can.

“Nanami.”

You punctuate each vowel as you say his surname. He can playfulness radiating off of you in waves.

“Yes?” He looks over at you, indifferent gaze meeting yours.

“Do you think I have a kind face?”

Your words linger in the air between you.

“What that curse said back there really... threw me off.”

You let out a carefree laugh as you speak, despite the fact you stood face to face with death.

Not only that, but you saved him too.

Nanami stares at you for a moment, his gaze unknowingly softening slightly.

“You have the kind of face people would sacrifice themselves for.” He replies, hoping that you'd leave it at that.

But you don't. Nanami has to pretend that he has to adjust his tie, he has to pretend that you were nothing more than a coworker to him.

“You're not saying that because I busted my ass saving you, are you?”

“No, I'm not. Your kindness..it exceeds more than just your appearance (L/N). I'm glad I work with you. I appreciate you for saving me.”

“I appreciate you too, Nanami.” Hearing those words coming from you makes something in his chest bloom. It goes quiet between the two of you again. Nanami feels your fingers brush against his.

“I should wear a mask, huh?” You suggest, mirth visible in your eyes. "Keep them from seeing how nice I look."

“Don't. I think you'd look better without one.”

Nanami smiles back, the tiredness in his eyes lifted the longer he looks at you.

The way you smiled at him made him feel like he was the one that saved you, not the other way around.

Most jujutsu sorcerers died with their regrets. But from that day on, Nanami knew he wouldn't be most sorcerers.

⋆ i love this man sm :3

[curlytheintrovert]

I just still CANNOT get over the last few minutes of Ben Solo in TROS. It’s criminal.

How everything about his character is just shifted. The moment he runs into that first camera shot—sees Rey’s x-wing and takes off—you can feel the change instantly. His body movements are so unfettered and human in comparison to Kylo: his run, his jumps, even his voice is changed. I mean the first and last thing we hear him say is LITTERALLY a humorous: “Ow.” (which still makes me laugh to this day) But by far my favorite is how much he acts like his dad…the swagger, the emotiveness as he fights and the confidence. It’s so god damn heart warming.

I live for that adorable little shrug when he gets his saber from Rey. ITS MORE HAN ENERGY THEN I CAN STAND. But also the little gotta-pace-myself breath he lets out as a knight slashes the saber behind his back wrecks me too. Like he’s almost trying to remember how to fight the way he used to as a Jedi. But seeing Ben fight with such skill and freedom kinda makes me choke up—we know just what it took to get him there. You just feel so happy for him!

But then it all comes crashing down.😭

Before I go any further though…WHY THE HELL DID ADAM DRIVER NOT WIN AN AWARD FOR THIS MOVIE?! I mean, my god this man can act. When Ben pulls himself out of the pit the Emperor threw him into, he doesn’t say one word—his body movements and facial expressions do all the work. The way he falls to the floor in pain, and every step is torture leaves little to the imagination what he’s going through.

But what truly TRULY won’t leave my head is how he reacts to seeing Rey dead in his arms. The way he just inhales this devastating, searing sob…you viscerally understand how much he loves her—and always has. Like you could hear that his world had been taken away. It also destroys me how Ben physically cannot handle the sight of her lifeless eyes. The way he rocks back and forth hysterically trying his best not to break down makes me cry every time. I’m sorry but that is PEAK romance for me, even more then their kiss. It simultaneously confirmed for me that they were taking the romance angle with this couple.

Then the way Ben looks at Rey when she’s revived is so emotional, you can hear his inner monologue from his eyes alone. Is this real? Did you really come back me? But I don’t know if you feel the same way I do. And when he does get confirmation and Rey says his name and kisses him you see just how ready he is—he pulls her tight to him so fast. Then they had to give us THE BEST SMILE OF ALL TIME IN STAR WARS, followed by the most heart warming little laugh, like he’s so happy—he’s finally accepted and loved by someone…aaaand then they take him away from us a second later. It’s something I will never forgive, dang it! You can’t make a character go through so much, redeem himself, be the coolest character possible, then destroy him. It’s just not right. All this talk and theories of the new movies is opening this wound wide open for me! Ben Solo and Adam Driver deserved so much more than this!

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[gu6chan]

remembered the lost yousei teikoku album from 1996 and am currently in the process of losing my mind

[hussyknee]

Never want to read another gay historical romance set in a world war because Ninety One Whiskey left me in absolute shambles and I don't know whether I'm afraid the experience won't ever be replicated or that it will.

[mildmayfoxe]

ok i got my ac in and it's not plugged in yet or weather sealed around the edges but it's IN the window & i pushed up the screen so i can open the top half of the window when it's nice (?? crazy how i always forget this is an option). i really think i should shop around for a lighter unit for next summer because mine is SO HEAVY and it's such a fucking challenge every time. i helped my roommate put her window unit in a couple years ago and it was such a breeze but mine is like one billion pounds and last year it wasn't even cutting the humidity that well anymore. how long are window ac units supposed to last mine's like six or seven years old now i think

[cosmicrhetoric]

last night i was so sick of my skin i was like thats IT im DONE im going to the drugstore and buying what my famously clear skinned mother used in the 90s. woke up this morning to find out it made me break out 🤡

[gregmarriage]

really just feels like the last four years of my life have been in pretty permanent stagnation, everything’s temporary and transitional, and i’ve been trying to fix it, but every time i do, something happens to make it worse

[fantasticalleigh]

Yeah I’m bitter the Bloodline is taking the Main Event and not the hottest feud of the year. Drew and Punk have consistently delivered every week and the past few PLEs and yet the Bloodline with the NeverEnding story gets the Main Event slot. BFFR and gtfo.

[crankygryphon]

Nn

[neverendingford]

.

[myladysapphire]

A doe, A deer - A female deer

being the youngest archeron sister often meant that you were the forgotten one, no one ever saw you, until he did.

Azriel x Archeron!OC

CW: mdi 18+, selective mutism, ableims?, depecitons of illness and hearing loss, depictions of violence (animal hunting), depictions of poverty, canon character deaths, vomiting, panic attacks. not beta read!

word count: 4,259

authors note: so i have severe writers block when it comes to the whole ASOIAF universe but i reread acotar recently and suddenly got motivation to write

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

Daphne Archeron had never known the luxury of money, like her sisters had. And though Feyre would say that her experience was brief, she still spent the majority of her childhood in riches, where daphne had spent it in rags.

Though the age gap was small between as four sisters, no more than three years between them each, it seemed the three years between her birth and Feyre changed a lot for the Archeron family. And by the time Daphne was five, the constantly dwindling funds had finally run out. The home she had always known to be empty, with less and less furniture as the days went by became repossessed a small hovel became there home.

A home which quickly became filled with illness and daphne and her mother caught typhus.

And illness which killed her mother and changed Daphne’s life.

It was odd how she could scarcely remember a time before her illness, and yet she fondly looked back on the few memories she had.

She knew her siblings had a difficult relationship with their mother, and yet her mother seemed to care deeply for her youngest child.

Peprahs it was because she was the spiting image of her mother, according to Nesta at least. Or that she was the calmest child, she never cried or threw tantrums. Or perhaps it was that she was content following her mother around and doing as she said, something she seemed to do now to each of her sisters instead.

She remembered in blurry memories when her and her mother got sick. How in the small hovel, on there one bed, the mother and daughter suffered side by side, with no money for a healer and simply having to rely on the efforts of three children and a man who mourned his wife and daughter before they had even passed. \

She had been beside her self when her mother passed, and though she hadn’t died, she herself had never truly recovered.

Her hearing was damaged, and though she could hear, she had to focus and spent most of her time reading lips more than actually listening.

Her body was sickly, and quick to catch any illness going around the village.

And to her sisters, that meant forever treating her like a child.

Things only got worse for her after debt collectors came two years into there life of poverty.

She remembered how her sisters had stood there and watched as there fathers legs was shattered and he was beaten. And she a girl of eight was the one to spring into action, grabbing a knife and throwing into the head of the man beating her father.

She remembered the gasps, the shocked looks of her sisters, and the even more shocked look of the men as they took her in, there faces going from smirks as they took in a small child defending her father, to a look of horror as another knife sliced through the air.

The men had run out shortly after and Daphne was left to scream and cry in horror at what she had done, as she watch the mans body dropped to the floor and the others fled, fearing the small child, who had started to fear herself.

After that day, Daphne refused to speak. A stray word her or there, a perhaps a gasp or hum. But nothing more.  

As time passed Daphne began to see herself only has a burden, often being forgotten unless she was incredibly ill or her sisters needed her to end a dispute.

She knew her family struggled more so that they should, how Feyre had been forced to hunt to feed and provide for the family, with her kills and selling their fathers wood carvings. She saw as her sisters hounded Feyre for money over helping her out or getting jobs to provide for the family. All whilst Feyre was forced to spend any money on medicines for her.

She saw the pitying eyes her sisters sent her, pity struggling to hide the contempt they all felt.

And though she had tried to help, by hunting with Feyre, even though it was quickly forbidden after Nesta found out. She would get a job, but who would hire a sickly, mute girl with no education or skills?

She was frustrated, unable to help and yet the biggest burden. Ruled by her sisters and treated like a child.

She had never been rebellious, never had the want to be and yet today, she found her self in the forest, with the will to make up for being the burden that she was, hoping to do so by finding dinner for her family.

And though she had only been a handful of time with Feyre before Nesta forbade her from taking you, and had little skill with an bow and arrow, her only skill was that of the throwing single dagger and several kitchen knives her family possessed.

She found herself sat in a tree, a dagger in hand as well and the kitchen knives strapped to a tunic she had stolen from Feyre.

She had looked and searched for close to an hour before she saw a deer, and found herself sat in a tree, as she watched the deer slowly approach with unsure movements. It reminded her of herself almost. With its doe eyes and reddish fur. It was young, clearly lost as it looked around for something or someone.

Her dagger trembled in her hand.

She willed it to move but to no avail.

The more she looked at the doe the more she saw herself.

With there shared amber eyes and brown hair, the does faced seemed to merge into her own. A face she shared with her mother. A face that haunted her every time she fell asleep in the very bed her mother died in whilst holding her.

But the doe was like any other doe she supposed. Yet it seemed like a complete mirror of herself.

Her hand shook as she tried to force herself to throw the dagger.

The deer looked up, eyeing her curiously. No fear in its eyes, as it eyed her and her hand lowered.

And a sigh of defeat left her mouth.

Perhaps a rabbit would be easier or at least be less likely to look like her.

The deer lowered its head, all sense of curiosity lost on it as it began to sniff for food in a bush.

She watched the deer, taking some comfort in how calm it seemed to be, though that calm lasted only moments as a wolf, a wolf far too large, and eyes to human pounced upon the deer tearing at its neck out.

The dagger in her hand suddenly spring from her hand landing clear in the wolf’s neck.

Blood trickling down its neck, the wolf made no effort to move or continue its feats on the deer.

It simply looked at her, and she could have sworn a look of relief flooded its features.

She jumped down from the tree, her ankle rolling as she did so.

But her mind was to occupied in reaching for one of her knifes and landed a killing blow directly into the wolf’s heart, and then another into the deer’s.

Tears feel from her eyes as she looked over the deer and wolf, realisation at what she ha done, and how it felt far to easy despite her earlier trepidation.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch she knew belonged to Feyre.

“Daphne” she mumbled, “are you okay?”

She simply nodded, as she always did, and reached to pull the daggers from the animals’ chests.

“did you do this?” Feyre asked, taking in the giant wolf.

Daphne nodded before pointing to the tree and twisting the dagger in her hand, answering the unsaid question of how.  

Concern flooded Feyre’s features as she assessed the state of her youngest sister, and the tears that filled her eyes, despite the clear effort the rest of her face was making to remain calm.

“Why were you out here?” Feyre continued to question; despite knowing she wouldn’t get a response.

Daphne looked down shame flooding her. Thoughts of not being good enough, of always being in the wrong even when she was trying to help. For somehow messing up what would be an otherwise successful hunt.

Tears dropped from her eyes once more. She hadn’t moved since Feyre approached her. Still sat in the same position as before as Feyre continued to ask questions.

She watched as Feyre bound the doe’s legs and skinned the wolf.

She watched as Feyre handed her the fur and threw the doe over her own shoulders. And watched as Feyre sent her a glance with every cough falling from Daphne’s mouth, seeing her concerned glances and small shakes of her head.

Her breaths were heavy, the cold air affecting her already weak lungs, and her steps were slow as they finally approached there home.

Their small little hovel with two rooms for the five of them, was always crowded and despite the two singular windows the entire house had there was always a chilled draft.

The chill of the outside was not much colder than that of inside the hovel.

A lack of fire beings it’s cause, and single log left inside the fire place despite freye asking nesta too cut more wood.

She was greeted quickly by Elain wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

Elaine and her were the closest of the sisters, with the same interests and similar personalities the two rarely argued. Though for daphne, arguments usual consisted of her being lectured and daphne storming out in response.

The sisters argued as they lectured feyre on the wolf and Daphne’s involvement in the hunt.

Elain sat rubbing Daphne’s shoulders gently to warm her up, and handing her a hot mug of tea to soothe her throat.

The sisters always seemed to argue, whether it be about money or food or any little thing. But what they argued most was daphne.

Shocking seeing as both Nesta and Feyre seemed to only tolerate her and ignored her unless she was extremely sick.

Elain too, despite being the closest of the sisters, found herself ignoring daphne more so than late, and spent more and more time with Nesta.

It was a funny thing really, seeing as they always fretted over her, treating her little more than a child.

But everything she did caused an argument. Such as going hunting with Feyre, getting more sick form hunting with feyre, from Elain allowing her to help her garden, or Nesta asking her to sew her some new clothes form the scraps of the old worn-out ones.

Everything one of them did for her, caused an argument with another.

Daphne was their sickly younger sister. That’s all she was and even when she tried to help it caused an argument.

Words were always said in front of her and rarely to her. 

She couldn’t help but think that if she could talk, something she begged daily to be able to, that they wouldn’t ignore her so much.

But they seemed to treat her mutism as self imposed, as if it didn’t pain daphne that she physically couldn’t. that the idea of speaking scared her and the few words she could ralrey speak pained her so and caused her to to be physically sick.

She hated not being able to communicate but her sisters seemed to think it was entirely her fault that she didn’t.

Elain at least put up with it, finding her a good ear for listening to her endless rants. Or a helpful hand when cooking and gardening.

But they still didn’t ask her questions unless it was in the form of an interrogation. Such as Feyre in the woods.

She had given up years ago when she realised no matter how hard her eyes portrayed her feelings, her sisters where happy to talk and laugh and argue without so much as sparing her a glance.

They hadn’t even bothered to teach her to read. They knew she couldn’t. she hadn’t even started her schooling when they lost their fortune, and yet it never occurred to them that teaching her to read could solve the communication issue.

She had thought that perhaps if she proved herself, her potential that they would bother. Though deep down she knew it wouldn’t change a thing.

But known the less she went into the woods, to prove herself, to show she wasn’t just sick, that she had willpower, ability. But not only to prove herself but to also thank them. she felt bad for all the money spent on you, all the times she had been bed bound, unable to help at all and leaving them to sleep on the floor as moving her was to risky.

But it all failed.

All it caused was arguing and Feyre sending you a worrying glance as she looked over the wolf. And the fear of it being fae and what they might mean for there family.

Days passed, and daphne grew sick again. With her lungs constricted, her head feverish and limb aching. She had been in and out of consciousness for days now. The days passed in a blur, the only moments she truly came to were when medicine was forced down her throat or a new towel was pressed to her head.

She was sure she would have stayed in the bed for weeks had the front door not been slammed open and a roar sounded through the hovel.

Weakly she walked out of the shared bedroom and came face to face with some sort of fae beast growling words at her sisters, her sisters spoke to quietly for her to hear but before she knew it feyre was leaving with the beast and her screams for her to stay refusing to leave her mouth. She was powerless to stop it, to weak to even move from the door frame let alone stop her sister form being kidnapped by the fae beast. And even if she could it seemed that as the door closed a haze a magic was sent out and the sudden scene of a so-called aunt Ripley sending for Feyre to help her in her sickness appeared in her brain. Had she not fainted after it happened, she was sure she would have believed it, but dreams of a growling beats taking Feyre away haunted her dreams.

As the months passed , Elain and their father seemed content to believe the glamour the fae had cast and the seeming coincidence of regaining there fortune, neither Daphne or Nesta believed it.

She hated this new life, the life without Feyre. And the seemingly picture-perfect front her family created.

Her life became filled with tutors and healers and the balls filled with preening men all ever for a quite wife they never have to speak to.

Her life seemed duller than it did, and even more lonely.

Her sisters now ignored her completely, her father was no to busy for he. With Her sisters spending more time doing their own thing, with Nesta always alone and refusing to speak to anyone. Elain found herself engaged to a future lord, a man you had grown to hate despite only meeting him three times.

And daphne found herself quiet the scholar, egar to learn, and found herself drawn more and more to the history of Pythian, of the war and the fae courts.

A year passed since Feyre was taken and though she had returned for a week before swiftly leaving again, it felt like everything had changed since she left.

she felt as if she was on the side lines looking in on her family.

Even more so after their father had left to go to the continent.

Elain had grown distant, only wishing to spend time with her when it came to her garden.

And Nesta had secluded herself in her room, refusing company from all.

Daphne was forced to chaperone her sister and watch her life become what elain always wished.

Perhaps it was selfish to wish for attention, or at least the same level as she received in the past.

But now it seemed the better she got the less attention she received. She now got the level of freedom she had long desired and yet it seemed a waste without her sisters there to experience it with her.

But at least she now had the opportunity to have friends. Or at least friends in the form of Leon, one of the footmen in her family’s employ.

He had been kind since the moment she meet him, egar to spend time with her.  

And though at first it was simply kind smiles facial expressions to communicate, he slowly taught her sign language. Having grown up with a sister who was hearing impaired, it allowed him the chance to talk to her. And for the first time she felt heard.

He was a small comfort in her dull life.

Suddenly it was march, time passed in the blink of an eye.

Something had shifted in the last few months; the estate grew quieter, and the trees seemed to murmur.

The sky felt greyer and snow colder.

The wall felt thin, with more cracks than ever, fog creeped from it and a sense of danger, ‘more so than before was emoting from it.

She had started to take walks near the wall daily. A sense of need to be close to Feyre overcame her. She wasn’t sure why, she never saw anyone near the wall.

That was until she stumbled into him.

Possibly the most handsome person you had ever seen. His eyes caught yours and they seemed to enchant her, the striking hazel colour distracting you from the obvious giant bat like wings sprouting from his back. But she didn’t mind, his eyes were beautiful…he was beautiful perhaps the most beautiful creature ever.

And his hands were on her waist.

Holding her after she stumble into him.

her waist.

“Are you okay?” he spoke softly, his yes tracing over her. He seemed to look at her with a sense of family. Though she was sure she had never once seen him before.

she nodded her head, her eyes looking down to were he still held her waste.

“your Daphne right?” he asked carefully.

Daphne looked up startled, shocked that he knew her name, and started racking her mind for memories of his face.

“i-“ the words, sounding more like a gasp left her mouth, as she willed yourself to speak.

And she might of mustered up a few words had Feyre not suddenly appeared.

“Daphne?” she breathed. Looking her up and down, “what are you doing this close to the wall?”

The males hands left her waist as he moved aside and allowed Feyre to hug her.

she hugged her back, but her face was perplexed as she took her in. she was different.

She seemed to glow, and her skin was soft and clear. Far more so than ever before and her ears… they were pointed.

She was fae.

Confusion adorned her face and a worried smile filled hers.

“don’t be scared” she seemed to beg.

she shook your head, moving to hug her once more.

she tired to talk, to ask her if she was okay, to ask her what had happened but the her mouth filled with bile, and the words seemed to leave her mind the more she tried to speak.

She seemed relived at the hug, moving her hand to stroke her hair, “you look well.” She spoke, as she took in her rosy cheeks and more filled out figure.

Daphne nodded. Her attention still fully on Feyre and confusion in her eyes as she tried to figure out what happened to her.

“I know you must be confused, and ill explain once were at the estate but-“ she was cut of by the sudden appearance of two more fae males.

Both with the same wings as the male she had bumped into.

“Daphne… this is Cassian and Rhysand” she said pointing to the two males, before turning “and the male Daphne bumped into, that’s Azriel” she spoke looking at her carefully as the two males introduced themselves and shook her hand.

A small nervous smile toyed on Daphne’s mouth.

she looked to Azriel, taking him in and reaching her hand out to shake his, as the others had done to her.

He seemed shocked at the action, his hands moving slowly to take hers.

As if he was scared to touch her, scared that they would taint her somehow.

They were rough, more so than the others, and covered in scars.

But her eyes didn’t linger, nor did she flinch as she was sure he expected her too. Instead she shook it and smiled. Her cheeks filling with a light blush as he focused her attention on her.

She turned to face her sister, the blush still prominent on her face and her minding releasing at how handsome Azriel, well how all the males seemed but more so him.

And the male she knew as Rhysand seemed to smirk as he looked at her, as if he could read the very thoughts she was thinking in her head.

She hugged slightly at the smirk, a nervous feeling washing over her as she took in the three strangers and the sudden change to Feyres appearance.

She pointed towards the direction of the estate, focusing her gaze on feyre as she did so.

“Should we get going then?” Feyre questioned, seemingly to sense her sisters nerves.

The walk was slow, the faes content to walk at a leisurely pace, though daphne was sure it had something to do with her and the coughs her small body was emitting.

By the time they reached the estate, feyre seemed to have grown nervous, her hand gripping daphne’s and her palm growing sweaty.

Daphne rubbed her hand in comfort though it seemed to do little as Feyre pulled her back hastily the estate came into view.

“Can you clear out the staff?” she questioned “they can’t see us, it will cause to many issues”

She nodded, giving feyre a hug before she departed.

She was grateful Leon was working that day, he took her at her word when she signed his and the others need to leave.

The once lively state was now empty bar the four sisters and three fae males.

She received harsh glares from nesta at their unwelcome guest.

And as words were spoken, and feyre spoke of the need to use the house as a meeting point, the glares grew harsher. As if whatever impending conflict was Daphne’s fault.

Dinner was no better, harsh words and arguments between the sisters sounded. Even more so when Daphne had run to get stools for the two winged males.

She was silent, as always.

But somehow sitting next to Azriel filled her with confidence she hadn’t ever had.

“Can you really fly?” she whispered, her voice rough from years of not being used.

And though her sisters gasped and nesta sent her another glare. Azriel simply smiled and spoke “yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind”

Daphne smiled, her mouth speaking before she could even process that she had talked “that’s very beautiful” she said “ I have always wondered what it would be like to fly” she mused, “is it ever scary?” she spoke making eye contact with Feyre who gave her an encouraging smile, though her eyes were still shocked at your words.

It was probably the most words she had ever said, as even before she stopped talking, she was never a chatty child.  

“sometimes” Azriel said, with Cassian nodding in agreement, as Azriel continued “if you are caught in a storm, if the current drops. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before were out of swaddling”

Daphne nodded, her mouth filling with bile and a stuttered almost gasp left her mouth in the stead of words.

She swallowed roughly, her face flushing as she realised everyone’s attention was on her.

And then it struck her, she had spoken.

In the past it had never been more than one word, and it was always mumbled and nearly in audible, and often followed quickly with vomiting.

She willed herself to not vomit, but as Nesta went to say something, she was sure would be aimed at her sudden ability to speak.

She rose and ran to the bathroom and let it all out.

She cried and cried afterwards, in shock and shame.

It was how it always happened, the shame she felt afterwards, as if she wasn’t allowed to speak, as if speaking would cause something bad to happen. And it was a feeling that followed her for the remainder of her sister visit.

And even after they had all left it didn’t go away.

It seemed to haunt her, even more so after she got sick once more.

But this time it was different.

She had been bed bound for months on end.

Memories were all in a haze and she couldn’t tell night from day.

she hadn’t woken in days and yet the next time she woke, she was being tugged out of a cauldron full of freezing water.

To be added to taglist

taglist @fuckingsimp4azriel

[mayfriend]

UPDATE: Mother of five (one newborn) in Gaza without shelter or food! (Vetted)

At the start of November, I made a post about Samira (@samiraaymaan) and her family in Gaza — Samira has had her baby, a little boy, but all the money raised so far had to go towards getting her a caesarean section.

Now Samira is once again without funds to feed her children or herself -- as of today (22nd December 2024), Samira hasn't eaten in three days, and is too weak to breastfeed her newborn -- and the occupation forces are demanding that the starving family must leave where they are currently sheltering due to the ongoing shelling in Nuseirat in order to survive.

Samira and her family urgently need support. Since I posted the last time, we managed to raise 2k for Samira and her family, and got Samira 10% closer to her goal, money which helped save Samira's life and that of her newborn baby boy: now the two of them, plus Samira's four other children, are relying on us again.

It is in no way fair that Samira is not able to rest or eat or recover from childbirth, or that she is forced to reach out to strangers on the Internet in the hopes of even the slightest relief, but it's what is happening.

I know it is Christmas soon, I know that things are tight for many people, but if watching an ongoing genocide for over a year has been exhausting, demoralising and soul-destroying for those of us lucky enough to live in safety, it is impossible to overstate the impact of those actually in Gaza experiencing it.

Please, if you have even $5 USD or equivalent to spare, consider sending it to Samira so she and her children can escape the latest round of bombings, buy flour so they can eat, get a tent to shelter in and raise funds for future evacuation.

I'm not sure what else to say, but please. Please. As Samira said to me: "what else is there to say? [We are] dying from cold, hunger and pain." If there was ever a moment for action, this is it.

The link to Samira's gofundme is here. At time of writing, it is at just over $5k ($5,022 on the 22nd December 2024) but again, all that money has been withdrawn to pay for Samira's caesarean section. She is starting from scratch!

If you are able to donate at all, please do, but if not reblogging this post and sharing the fundraiser with those who are able to spare something is still a great help and something everyone can do.

Thank you so much for caring about Samira and her children ❤️

[canisalbus]

Hi! A little life update.

At the end of October I wrote that I was deep in a depression spiral and due to unexpected occurrences I had been left with basically no income for several months. I had emptied my savings at that point and was feeling extremely stressed, sick and hopeless.

I just want to thank everyone who reached out and offered support or even looked up my ko-fi info and sent me a donation. It was an unfathomably kind thing to do and helped me tremendously. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was at the end of my tether, I had 1,70€ in my bank account at that moment. I was sleeping four hours per night on average because my insomnia was so out of control, and had more or less stopped eating, after surviving on nothing but porridge, bread, apples and buttered pasta for close to a month. Things were kind of dire. No one has ever showed me that kind of unprompted generosity before, irl or online. Thinking that people I've never even met were willing to support me like that both warms my heart and makes me feel kind of guilty and undeserving. I'm not used to being treated like that. I hope I didn't make you feel pressured to get involved. It did genuinely help me put myself back together though. The next day I went and bought some essential groceries and getting to eat properly was a massive boost in terms of energy and mood. I'm doing a little better now. I finally managed to get the financial situation corrected, but it'll take months before my finances recover and I'll be able to go shopping without feeling paranoid about counting every cent and hating myself if I buy a small treat. I mentioned that my seven years old, well-served laptop is on it's last legs, so the remaining funds are going towards putting together a new PC, hopefully soon. I don't really have any product or extra content to offer you as a thank you for the ko-fi donations I received, but I hope it's at least nice to think that they're directly enabling me to continue making more art in the future.

I'm still struggling with intense anxiety every day, and it has caused me to develope some kind of impostor syndrome that is impacting my online presence negatively at the moment. I look at the things I try to draw and the asks I get, and feel like nothing I create, say or write is good enough or worth people's time and attention. I'm having hard time opening up like I used to, and I miss the interactions I used to have here, they were an immense source of inspiration and motivation to me. But I'm trying to work on that, and hoping that posting stuff will start to feel more natural again eventually. This got a little long, but thanks for reading! I hope life treats you well.

[vsurg3-c]

Angst time(fluff at the end)

Imagine you and Simon have been happily married for nearly four years, turning five in a few months, he had already resigned from the task force in fear of not being able to come back after his deployment, wanting nothing but to spend his life now with his beautiful, pregnant wife.

He resigned after a month of learning that you were carrying your little baby, wanting to be there every step of the way.

Everything up to the sixth month was fine, until you went to labour three months early, which in his eyes was already a major alarm, a sign that something was severely wrong.

Now you were in the hospital, trying to birth out you and his child, clearly having complications which led to the doctors to prepare for an emergency c-section.

Simon was forced to wait outside until the baby was eventually pulled out, and after what seemed to be forever, the baby was out, but it was so small and frail, breathing but barely wailing.

The baby was born prematurely.

Now with you still recovering from the tiresome birth and passed out from the exhaustion and dopped out with drugs, Simon was left watching your baby girl in the incubator she was laid in, tubes helping her breathe as he looked at her with pained eyes, speaking to the sleepy infant.

“Hey sweetheart.. You exhausted your ma' didn't ye? You did so well, cryin' as loud as ye' can when you got out..”

“Keep fightin' yeah? Mama wants to see you, and I wanna see whether you got my eyes or hers, hm? Don't let papa down.”

After about a week, you soon recovered and waited for your baby girl to be stable enough, and after a ton shite of prayers, tears, and spending time talking to your baby girl, she eventually got stable enough, and was able to be home with you two.

That was the worst thing he had ever experienced, but also the greatest, as he had finally gotten what he always yearned for.

A family of his own.

[beloveds-embrace]

I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?

Tiny baby reader… yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.

And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.

“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.

There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.

Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”

The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”

Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.

When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.

Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank…you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.

“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.

John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”

You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before… always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.

You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where… are we going?” You ask instead.

“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”

You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.

When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.

“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.

Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.

By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.

You wonder if they’d let you stay with them…