#like I have multiple panic attacks every day

[writing-munchies]

Date Everything Self Aware & Obsessed AU PT.2— Eddie & Volt, Mac, Hoove

AN: A quick little something for 200+ followers, thank you all so much! That being said, I've had a panic attack and multiple breakdowns today, so my writing may not be my A-game, but I did write angst, so I might have cooked. Sorry for any mistakes as English isn't my first language:-]

WC: 1K

When you’re talking to Lux, even though you started off with hating them, they’ve kinda grown on you by now. You’ve started to spend so much time with them, they were just so fun now! Their jokes actually started to land and make you laugh really hard as you kept going through their dialogue every day, you, like any other player, usually forget to visit objects after getting their love or friendship ending. Volt & Eddie are no exceptions to this, sadly. Watching you aim those glasses at Lux every day, using at least one charge every day instead of coming to their show once, did piss them off. 

Eddie slammed his drink down on the counter with a huff as Volt rolled his eyes, the sound of Lux’s obnoxious laughter was drowning yours out and honestly, at this point it’s became so much. Volt has noticed how… agitated, when he- they both realized what they were. What you were. The fact that you’ve been romancing almost everyone didn’t sting as badly as finding out that nothing happened to the ‘MC’, you, the real human, just forgot about them or deemed their story done, without any say from them. 

Volt was pulled from his musings with an audible sigh from Eddie, “Hey,” he spoke softly, his hand caressing Eddie’s neck, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to get their attention back, we are the electricity! How hard can it be if Dorian, of all people, managed to mess up their game one time?” Volt’s heart sunk at Eddie’s gaze, he’d never saw his other half this… grim, before.

“It’s not about getting them back, Volt. Why did they forget in the first place? Were we too muc— did we do something wrong?”, his voice was gravelly, almost shaking with grief, as if they’d lost them. In a way, they were grieving, they were grieving the loss of your giggles when they flustered you, how you’d look at them like they were everything— they felt your gaze on them; it warmed their skin like the sun they never saw. 

The next time you’re talking with Lux, excited that it was most likely your last conversation before their route ended, you pressed on. All smiles until the power cut out. It was so instant you felt a little winded, the whole game just went dark, Lux disappeared, only the empty chat box in its usual place. Your heart actually picked up when you heard, “Ah, live wire! We’ve missed you…”

Mac feels empty. Not in the emotional way, oh boy they are full of emotions about you in that regard, they just… feel abandoned, tossed aside. They were one of the first to realize they were actually in a game and the puppet talking to them was controlled by a being so complex their CPU ran hot thinking about what you looked like. Your voice, whether a cough, sneeze, a coo at them or a comment about what they said, made their heart swell a thousand times more than when you double clicked. Though, you were save scumming, they found that term on the internet, trying to test every kind of ending you could get with them. Really, they are flattered and flustered that your attention was so fixated on them but, they hated the way you sounded when you kept picking the answers that lead to a hate end. There’s no way they’re letting that happen.

The next time you open their dialogue to finally get the hate ending and finish this god-damned challenge you forced on yourself, now though, Mac seems downright elated to see you. You… hurt them pretty badly, and yet they’re acting like nothing happened. Did you bug the game by how much you save scummed? You felt yourself freeze when Mac asked, “Hey, what do you say to being mine forever? Save the hassle for both of us? Oh, I’m overheating with the thought of hearing you say I love you to me!”, there’s only one option you can click, it reads, ‘Of course, I love you, Mac!’, your mouse moves on its own. 

Hoove knew he wasn’t an easy object, he never claimed to be one! He needs trust from a person he could even think to call his lover. When he realized what he was, when he saw just how hard you were trying over and over again, his heart warmed. He felt loved, yes he heard your disgruntled groans and huffs when you got his bad or friendship ending again, yes he wanted oh so terribly to reach out to you himself, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. When you stopped visiting him after a while, it felt like his heart was slowly sinking down to his stomach in this grueling pace. Every second he didn’t hear your adorable noises, your laugh, how you got up to get water and talked to your pets or to yourself about something to do with your real life, he felt like his heart could burst right there. Your very being consumed his, and yet, he just couldn’t break himself from his code. One time, you got so frustrated, he heard you crying. You probably had so much more going on and this was the thing that broke the dam, but… he couldn’t help but blame himself. He is too difficult to love, isn’t he? His vision blurred as he felt you closing the game, the tears threatening to fall any moment as he looked down, suffocated in a prison he couldn’t escape.

 His ears perked up when he heard you getting closer after a week or too, his heart doing jumping jacks inside his ribcage as you aimed your dateviators at him. In this state of euphoria is when you abruptly saw the love ending screen. You were confused but so happy, you saw a sprite you’ve never seen of Hoove before, his eyes full of tears but his smile wide, his dialogue read, “Finally…you’re here, again. I’m not wasting any chances anymore. Come here, to me.”

[th3wizardoz]

I’ve realized that people think I’m being hyperbolic when I talk about my pain because I am still functional despite it.

It’s not that I’m exaggerating or have a high pain tolerance, I’ve just never had the option not to function. Like ever.

[iero]

It's so stupid to be happy about this, but I finally made the call to make a doctor's appointment to finally talk to them about getting put on a new anxiety medication.

[firstprinced]

every day i think OKAY tomorrow i’ll start building my life back up to normal i’ll function!! thrive even!!! and every tomorrow is just as bleak as yesterday

[vervepain]

Supercorp head canon: Lena Luthor hates kale. It’s the literal worst. She just…hates heart disease and high cholesterol more. Which run in her family on both sides. And Lionel was diabetic. Lex was pre-diabetic but wouldn’t do anything about it. So Lena just eats super clean, gets her steps in, does three sessions of zone three cardio a week, and resistance trains.

Initially, Kara thinks these are all attributes of her CEO type-A lovable neuroses. Until Lena is waiting for her annual bloodwork…and has a panic attack. And makes a kale smoothie.

And that night Lena explains that Kara is actually correct, kale is vile but it’s a good source of fiber. And she went through a phase where she ate an unhealthy amount of raw spinach. Lena explains that her family has bad metabolic genetics. And Kara is just like:

So the kale will help you live longer?

And Lena half shrugs, nods, hopefully?

Suddenly, a change occurs. Kara Danvers cannot get enough kale. Have you ever had an air fried pot sticker? Kara just ate fifteen. And she had a side of bok choy.

Lena kind of can’t belive it. Because sure eating super healthy is something she prioritizes, but it’s a downer when no one else around her is doing it? Like Alex and Kelly eat healthy…but it’s not extreme. Nia sometimes makes questionable choices in energy drinks but generally Lena thinks she has a balanced diet. Kara eats as though she auditioning for the role of human dumpster in Dumpster Fire the Musical.

Until suddenly, Kara doesn’t. Suddenly when the super friends go out to eat and Lena gets a goat cheese salad, Kara gets one too. Kara always sees if they can add chicken though. Kara likes to make soups and that winter they eat hearty stews and delicious curries. And one day it just—Lena has to ask.

“Kara why are you eating like—?”

“Like you?” Kara says setting down the last plate she was drying. She walks over and lifts Lena onto the counter. So she can stand between her legs. “Because I like you?” She pecks Lena’s cheek. “I want you around forever. And if eating this way is going to help, you bet your bucket, I’m eating kale with every meal.”

Lena blushes.

“Not every meal.”

“No.” Kara says crinkling up her nose. “I also read in one of those books? About like marriage and family life.” Lena’s eyebrows go up. “You know books about how to be married and like raise kids?” Lena did know..:but not that Kara was reading that. “I just figure it will be easier to teach good nutrition habits to our children if you and I are on the same page about nutrition values now.”

Which is , great, but Lena is surprised to know Kara Danvers is planning to raise apparently multiple children with her, when last time she checked they were still platonic best friends.

“Kara, are we dating?” Lena asks.

“No, I don’t think so. Not yet. Soon though,” and then the Kryptonian turns around to finish putting away silverware.

“Would you want to go out on a date?”

“Yeah. I’m not picky. I mean,” here Kara gestures to Lena’s penthouse where Kara does basically live. “On Krypton…like we’d be considered married already. So um, I’m good with whatever. Dating first? Just straight to a wedding. Or even just filing a marriage certificate.” Lena is still on the counter, and it feels like the whole world has vanished from under her perch.

“You would marry me tomorrow?”

“Culturally, Lena, I married you ages ago. And I should have said something. It’s okay if you don’t want this. I will get my stuff out of here tonight, but—“ Lena leapt into Kara’s surprised arms. They kissed, twirling in the kitchen.

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain

↳ chapter 6

previous chapter // next chapter

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory

A/N: i really like this chapter and i hope you do as well :)

The next few weeks feel off. You can’t seem to settle the anxiety that has been bubbling in your chest. Your scent is in a constant sour state, and the guys all comment on it, checking in on you multiple times. They ask you if you’re okay and how they can help you every day, but you just brush it off, claiming it’s just hormones acting up. And tonight, when bedtime has come and gone and you’re alone with your thoughts, it all explodes.

The nest you lay in just makes you feel worse. Thinking back to how encouraging Jisung was in showing you how to do it, you had thanked him countless times even to this day and he always told you it was no big deal and that it was his honor to help you nest. He shouldn’t have had to though. Omegas should present knowing how to nest, it’s in your DNA, how can you be so disconnected from your biology? Suddenly your mind is in overdrive, a million thoughts about how you don’t belong here, how terrible of an idea it is to get attached. You think back to your day at the store with Minho and Jisung and you feel sick. How can they be so sure this will last, Why do they want it to? Everyone has been so caring, almost demanding to do everything for you but always backing off when they sense you need them to. It’s been starting to feel domestic, like you were a real member of their pack. Nobody had mentioned courting you or anything romantic at all really. You mean there were a bunch of small gestures that hinted that they wanted to, but they respect your boundaries, and they wait for you. The realness of this all begins to settle in and that terrifies you, but you’ve never been one to fight so flight it is.

Slipping on your shoes and the same coat you wore when you got here you slip out of your room as quietly as possible. With tears in your eyes, you make it all the way to the door and you’re about to turn the doorknob when a voice comes from the staircase.

“Y/N? What are you doing?”

“Jeongin what are you doing awake?” Part of you was glad it was just Jeongin. Arguably you had grown fond of the alpha, not only were you two so close in age, but he was just different. He was still sort of new to being an alpha and it showed in his behavior. His instincts were strong and a little all over the place but he was still soft and sweet like a puppy. So even though you knew he was an alpha and alphas still scared you, it wasn’t like that with Jeongin.

“I had a weird dream that woke me up and I heard noise down here. I thought maybe Hannie was making some late-night snacks, so I was going to join him. Now answer my question please.” He walks towards you and you back up a little bit. You feel cornered, not in a threatening way but in more of a you’ve been caught kind of way.

“I was just-“ Jeongin cuts you off abruptly.

“Are you trying to leave? Y/N, you can’t leave. Fuck I’m going to go get Chan.” You know he means well, it’s what pack members do but you don't need to worry the whole pack with your nonsense.

“No! Please don’t get Chan, don’t get anyone. Please Jeongin. Look I just, my head is spinning. I can’t do this.” You feel like a dam just broke in your body, your tears flow freely now, faster and more freely than before. Through your tears, you can see the alpha think for a moment, before a smile spreads across his face.

“Come with me.” He speaks bluntly as if he knows you’d listen to him no questions asked. He leads you down to the den and helps to remove your jacket and shoes before leading you into the pack nest. It all feels so out of body, you are confused why you’re reacting like this, like this was normal for you two. You lie together facing each other and for a moment there is only silence.

“What’s wrong angel?” The smell of rain fills the air around you, and it calms you in a way only an alpha really can. Still, your heart skips for a moment, shocked at how softly he speaks to you. For a moment it feels like you’ve known each other forever and this is routine for him, you feel safe.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. A few weeks ago when we were at the store Jisung was asking me questions about the future and my baby and it’s been weighing on me. It’s too real. The future scares me, I want things to get better, I want to be a part of your pack, I want to get to know you guys better, but I feel like any moment this will all be over. It’s like two halves of me are at war, the part that wants this and the part that is scared of heartbreak and wants to run away before shit hits the fan.” Your words are rushed, but they’re real. There’s a feeling deep within yourself, you feel lighter than you ever have. You never realized how nice it would feel to be able to open up to someone, but somehow having someone really listen feels even better than that feeling.

“I don’t want you to go.” Jeongin furrows his eyebrows as if you’re insane for ever thinking otherwise, like this was an obvious fact.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because as wolves we know. I know the moon led you to me, to us. I want every piece of you, even moments like this are a blessing because I get to protect you, even if that means I’m protecting you from yourself.”

“I’m scared that maybe this is a mistake.”

“Look, I’m not the best at all this but I know for certain the moon never makes mistakes.”

“Why would the moon put me through everything I went through then?”

“I don’t think the moon would purposely hurt you, my love. But I do think she led you exactly where you needed to be in the end, and that’s what matters.” You look up and Jeongin and a few stray tears fall again, you’re in awe of his words.

“Thank you for grounding me, I only tried to run because I don’t want to see this fail. I don’t want to lose you guys.”

“It’s okay, we’re all here for you, both of you.” With his words, you feel a gentle hand rest on the curve of your stomach. You immediately freeze. As time went on, touch from the pack became easier and more welcomed but none of them had dared to touch your stomach. Jeongin feels you tense and immediately pulls his hand back realizing what he’d done.

“Oh my god, Y/N I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that I didn’t mean to cross the line please don’t let my mistake ruin this.” The alpha panicked afraid all of this was for nothing. Your body relaxes and you really think about it, it was kind of nice.

“It’s okay, you- you can touch my stomach.” Jeongin’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas. He places his hand on your bump again, his touch so gentle as if you’d break.

“Thank you for trusting me Y/N.” His hand gently caresses your belly, and you two bask in the quiet moment.

“When you guys have kids one day, how will the dad situation work?” Your question is thinly veiled in curiosity, you know deep down you want to know for your own situation but you don’t have the courage to ask outright.

“We don’t care about paternity, we will all be the parents to every kid our omegas bear. Of course, once the baby is born we’ll notice who is who’s but it simply won’t matter to us.”

“Won’t somebody get territorial or jealous?”

“No. We all love each other, we’re all mates so yeah we will all see the pups as ours.”

“Y/N, do you want a boy or a girl?” It’s his turn to ask a question.

“I’d like to be cliché and say I don’t care but I’d love a daughter… Have you thought about what you want one day?” Your question feels out of left field, and it shocks you both.

“I’ve actually discussed this with the guys. As a pack we know everything about each other, and as you now know Hannie likes to ask questions. I personally would like a daughter as well, but I want a few kids so I don’t really mind.”

“I guess with two pack omegas you shouldn’t have any issues having a good amount of pups huh” You laugh but Jeongin doesn’t.

“Three. We have three pack omegas.” Your mouth falls open before you frown.

”Jeongin…”

“No. You are a part of this pack Y/N. I didn’t want to bring it up like this but if courting you will make it feel official for you I’ll do it, and before you ask yes we’ve already talked about I know the other guys would like to as well.” Your words get caught in your throat. You knew most wolves would start the courting process within the first week of knowing each other if that’s what they wanted because as wolves it’s so deeply rooted in your biology to know what you want. So while your omega had been screaming at you for not asking why the pack wasn’t courting you, your more human side was scared to accept it.

“If it makes you feel any better I don’t think much would change if we started courting you. It’s a lot of what we already do, all the taking care of you and stuff. It’d just be a bit more romantic in a way, there would be gifts, scenting, more physical touch, but of course we would still respect your boundaries, nobody does anything you don’t want.”

“Okay.” You smile at his words and a scent spike from the alpha signifies how much your one word affected him.

“Really? You’ll let us court you?”

“Yeah. I have to stop running. I’ll have you guys a long as you’ll have me.”

“I hope forever works for you, because we are all pretty hooked on you.” You both let out breathy laughs, and for a moment you wonder if this is what bliss feels like. You wordlessly lean your head on the young alpha’s chest taking in his scent. A beautiful scent that would put you right to sleep.

When you wake up you’re immediately greeted by Jeogin’s chest in your face and for a moment you cuddle deeper into it.

“Good morning sweetheart, Do you want to go eat breakfast?” You give a quick hum in response and get up from the pack nest with him leading you to the dining room. You greet everyone and take a seat in the chair Jeongin pulls out for you. The room falls into small talk about everyone’s plans for the day and you feel odd joining in since you really don’t have plans, you don’t do much at all, so you continue to eat. Jeongin notices your silence and places a comforting hand on your bump rubbing soft circles with his thumb, You give him a warm smile as if to say you’re okay and he nods but doesn’t move his hand as he continues to eat. One by one each pack member notices where his hand rests and the noise of the room is replaced by small gasps and silence.

“What?” You look up from your food confused why everyone stopped when you realize all eyes are on you and you immediately get embarrassed even though you aren’t sure why.

“Are you okay with him touching you like that? He isn’t pressuring you or anything?” Chan’s words cause Jeongin to let out a growl, probably at the insinuation that him hurting you like that was even a possibility.

“Oh yeah, we talked last night. He stopped me from leaving.” You speak nervously, still on the high from opening up last night you just want to get it all out.

“You were trying to leave? Why didn’t you come get me?” Chan looks like he’s about to have a heart attack and Felix has to place a gentle hand on his arm to calm him down.

“I didn’t want to get anyone. Jeongin found me when I was about to leave, he tried to get you but I asked him not to. It’s all settled now and I’m staying so it’s not a big deal.” A chorus of sighs fills the room.

“And I’m courting her!” Jeongin blurts out with a massive smile on his face.

“WHAT?” Every other person in the room says the same thing causing you to let out a small giggle at their dramatics.

“You all can too, if that’s what you want of course. You don’t have to.” You awkwardly shove your mouth with food to prevent yourself from speaking anymore, thoroughly embarrassed at your confession.

“Oh! Yeah of course we’ll court you. Yeah duh.” Chan blabbers out with a bright red blush gracing his face.

“I think what the alpha over here meant to say is it would be an honor to court you and make you an official member of our pack, Thank you for taking this step with us.” Felix tosses a smile your way and you feel content with the situation as whole.

[countlessimagines]

Here Now [ Sentry X Reader ]

Summary: The past seems to always haunt you.

A/N: I love sentry !!!

Warnings: Mention of addiction, mental health issues

SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS

-

It was hard to adapt to normalcy after Robert had suddenly disappeared. You were left alone in your too small apartment that felt huge and empty without him by your side.

Robert never had an easy life, even if he had you by his side, following him wherever he went. Even if his depression and addiction were sometimes too much to handle. He was forever grateful but extremely guilty that he dragged you into his mess of a life. You saw him for the person he was, not the trauma that molded his moods.

Even when he was not honest, it was hard to stay away from him. You loved him with everything you had, even if it was not much.

He loved you with a fierceness that was almost obsessive. There was a side of him that he seemed to hide from you, something darker within him that lingered. You could see it in his eyes whenever someone suggested you to leave him, another man flirting, or whenever you two go into arguments.

It was scary to see, but then it would melt away and he would be back to normal.

When he saw that there was a new research study that can make you a better man, he did not hesitate to sign up. He feared you would not approve of being a test subject, but knew he had to do something to change. He knew loving you while a mess was never fair to you and wanted to return home to you clean and cured.

A few years passed and it didn’t make any sense for you to stay in the apartment you two shared together anymore. The constant reminder of him was too painful and the fear that he had overdosed or ended up in a ditch someone made you nauseous at the thought.

You had situated yourself in a New York apartment in some crumbling building, but it was all you could afford. You held onto a few photos of you and Robert, wanting to cherish his memory even if it was too painful to bear at times.

After a rough late night shift where you were barely getting home in the middle of the day, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and forget about the world for awhile.

As you were situating yourself in your room, you could hear multiple screams outside your apartment. With a world full of heroes and villains, you were accustomed to panic attacks whenever you could hear trouble. You didn’t know if it meant that there was another alien invasion or a masked murderer on the loose.

You hurriedly ran to your window, only to see a dark shadow creeping onto every surface and clinging to it. In the streets, citizens were reduced to shadows.

The air suddenly left your chest as you could see it scaling the walls right outside your window. Your feet began to walk backwards and you managed to turn and flee to the kitchen.

Without a second thought, you grabbed one photo from your fridge of you and Bob, smiling together while cooking dinner. You held it to your chest and tried to run out the front door, but it was too late.

The shadow’s grip took hold and the next thing you knew you were in a pitch black room.

You knew you were screaming because your lungs felt like they were burning. No sound came from your mouth, though.

It was all so sudden.

You were laying on the ground of your old apartment with your head ringing.

You began to cry, seeing that you were in the one place that broke you into a million little pieces.

“What are you doing here?” A familiar voice cut through the air. “I told you to leave!”

You shakily raised your head up, seeing Robert leaning over you.

His eyes were manic, hair greasy and disheveled, clothes so dirty you thought he might have slept in dirt.

“Baby?” You said in a hushed voice.

“I don’t want you here anymore.”

Your slowly rose to your knees, grabbing for him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry I left you. Where were you?”

“You left me there on the street.”

It was clicking in your head once more, it was a memory you didn’t want to relive.

“I had to, you… you were so high out of your mind you didn’t make sense.”

He scoffed pushing your needy hands away from him.

“You abandoned me when I needed you.”

He didn’t look like himself. He felt more colder than usual.

You finally stood to your feet even if you were shaking. “I’m here now. Please don’t leave me again. I thought you died.”

“You probably would’ve wanted that.”

“Never.” Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you reached for him again.

“Leave her alone!”

Suddenly there was a hoard of people who flung into the room.

You didn’t recognize any of them and moved backwards out of fear. “Who are you guys?”

They appeared to be heroes of some sort, and one of them with a shield barreled into Robert and slammed him into a wall.

“Wait! Don’t hurt him!” You screamed, running forward.

Before you could reach him, a pair of arms wrapped around you and held you back.

“Let me go! He needs me!” You shouted and struggled to get out of the grip of whoever was holding you tight.

You helplessly watched as Robert slid down the wall, but your shouts went silent as he faded into a black mist.

“I’m here now. I’m never leaving you again.”

You spun around and realized that you were being held by Robert. But he appeared healthier and not so rugged like the one who disappeared.

“Baby?” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face.

“It’s me.” He smiled, his hair framing his face in a way that made you think of fonder times. “I’m sorry for all that I did.”

You let out a shaky breath, just happy to see him again, safe and healthy in your arms. “It’s okay, baby. I know. All that matters is you’re here now. We can start over.”

You embraced him and held him close, wanting to never let go of him.

There was a sudden coldness and bright light enveloped you both. You opened your eyes to see you were on a city street.

Robert pulled away and looked towards the group of heroes who all were breathing out a breath of relief.

“They helped me.” He said in a grateful voice before turning to you. “I’m going to be better for you, now.”

You ran your finger over his lips like you always used to do before planting a sweet kiss on his lips. “I will be there every step of the way.”

[aceecee]

Insatiable - Chapter Five

TW for this chapter: murder, themes of obsession and possessiveness, brief mention of a panic attack, ooc sylus*, mean sylus, down bad sylus - has some naughty thoughts about you

* technically they are all out of character but I have no idea how the love interests act towards others who aren't MC, we have some snippets here and there but it's not enough. a lot is left up to interpretation so if you don't agree with mine, I can't do anything about it

Synopsis: Sylus pushes you too far, unaware that you might not come back.

WC: 5.3K

Masterlist

He can no longer live without you. You’re just like the air he needs to breathe. So, let him partake in you.

 For his survival. 

The city comes alive at night. During the day it feels like a ghost town at times but the night is when the sinners awaken and their appetite is never satiated. The hushed whispers in alleys, the not so odd gunshot you hear in the distance and the pleads of the victims all go ignored. The people here are smart. They know not to get involved.

But it is not the people she seeks. No. The one she’s hunting is yet another arrogant man with too much money and time in his hands. No matter how many of these animals she puts down, another simply takes his place.

The man thinks himself on top of the world, living on the top floor of the skyscraper. He feels like he’s untouchable. He thinks he’s safe.

He hasn’t even noticed her circling around him for days, watching her prey. Taking notice of every detail of his life. Of his betrayal. 

It’s what makes her such a great hunter. She’s patient, going days without nutrition just to complete her hunt. Not a single prey has escaped her.

And this man is no exception.

She watches him - lounging around on his sofa - all of it clear to her thanks to the large windows. She’s standing on the rooftop of the building next to him, watching him through binoculars and he still has no fucking idea. There’s guards stationed by the door of the room but they’re useless against her.

All she needs is the view of him to complete the job.

It’s all played out for her, like a scene out of a movie. She experiences it all with a wicked glint in her eyes, her favourite part is coming up, the anticipation might just kill her. He hunches over in pain but no sound escapes him as a vine covers his mouth, silencing him. His eyes are bloodshot as he feels multiple things inside him, swarming and looking for escape. 

One does.

It shoots out of his chest.

Then another.

This time through his left ear. 

It continues until he looks more of an abomination of nature rather than a man.

He’s left on the couch. Silenced forever. 

The last thing she’s ever thought of herself is an artist but she has created a masterpiece. 

Sylus stares at his hands. [Name] had left his office a little while ago and he’s been stuck in this haze since. He can still remember the feel of her skin against, the warmth of her body and how right it all had left.

He still feels the anger at your little sacrificial lamb act. How dare you even think about leaving him? 

This Eiden was a pathetic little coward. Still hiding behind his sister even when you’re considered dead. Sylus has been watching him the past year. Your brother has never done anything to find you, Sylus doesn’t care if he was hospitalized. The fool had gone and gotten married but couldn’t lift a finger for his family? 

There was no memory of you left in your brother’s house, Eiden was all too happy to forget about you and yet you’re still worried about him. 

And if that wasn’t enough, Eiden now has his Mara looking after him. How greedy. 

His mind is in a disarray. His being filled with turmoil. He’s not supposed to feel this way about you. His love is only for the woman who killed him. And that’s not you. 

No more of this. No more of feeling anything for you. 

She’s just a tool, he reminds himself.

And it’s time he treats you like one.

You find yourself back in your bedroom.

How you got here was not remembered. It all felt like a blur. 

Your gaze is on your wrist. The very one that Sylus had grabbed over a year ago. Your other hand curls around your wrist, trying to mimic the way he had. His touch had felt like acid on your skin back then so what changed?

Why had your mind and body deemed it okay? 

I don’t fucking know.

Insomnia has nothing on the current exhaustion you feel. The sleep is just what you need.

The rubbery texture of the mat has become a familiar sensation to you. You often find yourself face planting onto it.

He’s a monster. Relentless. 

Your entire body aches and not in a good way!

You had made the mistake of getting comfortable because now your body was subjected to a different type of torture daily.

Sparring with him. 

This was the deal you had accepted two months ago. You had served his finances well but his endgame for you was different. You’ve rested this last year and your body is much better.

Just like Sylus wanted.

So, now it’s time to train it. As you feel your muscles ache, you can’t help but think it was a bad idea to confide in him about your evol. Because now, he’s set on seeing how far your endurance can take you. How much you can handle.

And it’s made more infuriating due to the fact that it’s working. The torture forced upon you for years had left you capable of accomplishing more with your evol than you could during your childhood. But your body was malnourished so even that was stunted. It’s all changed now though. 

You’re also curious as to how far you can go. For the first time in all your lives you feel powerful. You can feel the potential brimming inside you, almost like it’s just out of your reach. It’s an addictive thing and unfortunately you’re hooked. 

Creating plants out of nothing isn’t the limit to what you can do. You remember how your body had moved on its own during your childhood, helping a certain someone calm down from his evol flaring up. Golden vines had wrapped around his body - glowing - and they had healed all his cuts and stopped him from losing control. Of course, you paid the price by sacrificing your body again. But something tells you that the vines are only the start. 

It’s why you don’t say anything as he knocks you off your feet once again. Two months of this and you haven’t made much progress. You can see the frustration inside Sylus and it worries you. Worried that he’ll throw you away.

A few months ago, these thoughts would have never crossed your mind. He kept you at a distance, sure, but he had always treated you with respect. In his own way, he kept reassuring you that such a thing would no longer happen…but something had changed.

Ever since he had comforted you in his office, he had been cold. Not just cold but sometimes scary. You have no idea where you stand with him. He no longer spoke to you in a teasing tone, no longer seeked you out and as rare it was for him to join your wacky adventures with the twins, now it never happens. He mostly communicates through Mephisto. The only time you see him is during your sparring sessions. He shows no hint of emotion in his eyes or face and it stings. 

You hate that it stings. 

His hold as he picks you up is gentle but it doesn’t feel like it. The dread at his touch is back too. But you’re too afraid to give it away. Afraid that if you don’t become what he wants you to then you’ll be disposed of. 

“This isn’t working,” his eyes glare at you. He’s brought you closer to his body, face to face. Your black long sleeved shirt is good at hiding how sweaty you are. But your hair is a mess and you’re breathing heavily. He’s wearing a red tank top with black shorts, looking as composed as ever. You don’t even have the mind to admire him like this as your heart sinks to your stomach. Yet another person has deemed you a failure. 

No. No. No.

I promise I’ll do better. I promise-

It’s hard to sign any of the words with the speed at which your pleas bombard your mind. None of it matters as he throws your wrist out of his hold and storms out. 

You can’t even hear the choked gasps that escape from you. You can’t hear your breath shortening as you forget how to do the action. Somehow you can’t even hear your thoughts as the four walls around you seem to sway and close in on you. You make no noise as you fall to your knees and it kills you inside.

You’re left laying down on the gym mat. 

The house is quiet now.

No longer do the occupants wake up to the sounds of clanging in the kitchen, no longer do they smell the food cooking and no longer do they see you. 

Sylus hadn’t met you in the gym the next day. Or the next. 

You take the hint and stop waiting for him.

You spend all your free time holed up in your room. You only leave for work. You haven’t signed in over a week as you refuse to cross paths with anyone. You left his card on his work desk, only to find it on your nightstand upon your return. You don’t push it by doing it again but you don’t use it.

Mary had sent you a text informing you that the kids wanted to see you but you responded by letting her know you were on a work trip. You didn’t want to put on a fake smile and pretend that everything was okay. That you were okay. 

Luke and Kieran try to knock on your bedroom door but you never answer. The door is locked but it would pose no challenge for them to pick it. They don’t. It doesn’t stop them from trying to get you to come out though. 

“[Name], come get food with us.” 

“[Name], come play this new board game with us.”

“[Name], come commit arson with us.” 

None of it works. 

Your window is kept locked and the curtains are always drawn. You can hear Mephisto pecking at it but again you don’t respond. 

On day five of your self-imposed isolation, you find yourself waking up with too much energy. You can only think of one thing to release it and that’s how you find yourself in the gym, tying up the boxing gloves as you stand before a punch bag.

Hand-to-hand combat was what Sylus had labelled you as a failure in so perhaps working the muscles would help.

The first punch you throw is half-assed.

How pathetic.

His voice speaks for you in your mind.

The second is too shaky.

How weak.

The third doesn’t even make the bag move.

Failure. 

It repeats in your mind.

Failure. Failure. Failure. 

It continues until you feel the white hot rage.

How was any of this your fault? Had you asked to be brought into this world? To be kidnapped? To be forced to watch your family be murdered in front of you and be the reason why? To be tortured and forced to experience unimaginable horrors? Did you beg for your mind to be broken over and over again?

Had you asked him to save you?

No, he had done so on his own. And now he wanted to throw a temper tantrum when things didn’t go his way.

Because you weren’t what he wanted? Who he wanted?

In your anger you don’t realise as your leg picks up and collides with the punching bag. However, you do notice as the force makes it fall off its hinges and smash against the wall. A good distance away from you.

You stand there gaping as the bag falls down, leaving a sizable dent in the wall.

“Always full of surprises aren’t you?” A voice purrs in your ear.

In your shock you hadn’t noticed the asshole entering and positioning himself right behind you. In a small act of rebellion, you push yourself away from him.

[Don’t touch me.] 

Red eyes widen a bit. It’s a surprise to see him open and close his mouth a few times, trying to think of what to say but falling short. He looks to be in contemplation before nodding and taking a step away from you. 

You’ve never seen him rattled. A part of you is smug. It’s a beautiful sight. 

What would he look like on his knees, your thoughts wander. 

“Meet me here again tomorrow?” it’s phrased like a demand but he speaks it like a question. His eyes look over your face but you give nothing away.

You nod.

This time it’s you who walks away.

Sylus is a fool.

He lasted not even four days after he walked out on you before finding himself at your bedroom door, hand raised to knock but staying in place. The only time he’s seen you these last few days is the small glimpses of you at work. You’ve isolated yourself and he knows it's serious when you’ve even shut Mephisto out. 

He wanted to use his position as your boss to force you to show yourself, especially when he found his credit card on his desk but after some contemplation, he concluded it’ll do more harm than good.

Pride does settle in him when he realised all the cameras were gone so he can’t even check up on you using them but it’s mostly overshadowed by frustration.

This is all his doing. He had been so focused on seeing results that he had overlooked the mental battle taking place in your mind. He should be happy that his plan worked, he treated you like a tool, successfully manipulated you into being desperate for his approval so why doesn’t it feel like a victory? 

Sylus has never heard you talk but he didn’t know one could be silent in other ways and it stings.

He hates that it stings.

He’s conflicted. Maybe it’s for the better that the two of you stay like this because the fact that he has gotten so attached to you in such a short amount of time is exactly why he did this. He can live with emotional pain, he’s been doing so for far too long.

But can he live without you?

He finds himself unable to answer his own mind.

He puts his hand down, into his pocket because he doesn’t trust his own body right now.

And he walks away.

He’s a fool.

He won’t apologise for it. 

He saw it all.

The quiet fury in your eyes that you could no longer express with your words. The raising of your leg as it collided with the bag. The sheer force it took for the bag to leave a dent in his fucking wall.

Desire pools in his gut at your show of strength.

It doesn’t help that you look so good in your workout attire. It clings to you in all the right ways. All those memories of pinning you to the mat and having you under him resurface. Sylus hadn’t shown it but he was utterly grateful at his restraint because it would’ve been so easy to have you in those moments.

His body moves on his own and before he knows it, he’s right behind you. He’s tried so hard to forget the feel of you against his body but his mind still yearns for it. He doesn’t touch you but he’s close enough.

You’re too shocked to even notice him.

How cute.

But then he ruins it by opening his mouth and something inside him breaks when you pull away.

[Don’t touch me.]

Your unspoken words ring in his head. Over and over again. 

You’ve rendered him speechless and for that he has to give credit where credit is due.

Sylus has walked away from you too many times to count and he can’t help but think when you do it to him.

Is that how he made you feel?

The room has changed the next time you enter.

The gym equipment has all been moved to the corners. Instead it looks more like something out of those spy movies you liked to watch. One area of the room is set up as a shooting range. There are four lanes, each with their own target. On the wall are various guns, none of which you have any knowledge of. You hated them in your first life so you never knew a thing about them. The guns in the game are a bit different, more technical.

There’s another area with training dummies. No weapons around them. Another area is set up as some type of simulator, you think. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the technology of this world.

You hear them before you see them.

“Boss sure moved fast to make this happen,” Luke says. “Seems like we’re no longer the favourite child Lukey,” Kieran pouts. They stand before you, leaning on the other.

[You were never the favourite, that goes to Meph], they let an offended gasp at your declaration. Their antics never fail to make you feel better.

[Why have I been graced with your presence?] you ask.

“Cause we’re your new mentors. Boss’s orders.” They clarify together when you give them a confused look. It’s sometimes astonishing how much they move in sync, almost like they are one person. Not even you and Ei were that close.

“Now,” Kieran claps his hands, “...it’s come to our attention, little lady, that you pack a mean kick. But first, we have something to show you,”

Luke grabs your hand. It’s the first time he’s touched you and he realises this himself and drops it quickly. Before he can say anything, you grab it again. 

[What is it?]

You have no idea what expression he has on his face, you can’t see the look in his eyes thanks to the mask they wear but you hope he’s shocked. 

No way am I admitting that I feel safe around them, they’ll never let me hear the end of it.

Neither of them say anything but instead drag you to the spot on the wall that had the dent you created. You wish so badly you could cackle when you see what they’ve done to it. 

“Ta-daaa!” They give you jazz hands as they show off their work.

The hole is framed and there is a small plaque to the side of it. When you look at it closer, something is written on it.

Baby’s first victim. 

“Well, what do you think? It was my idea if you like it. Kieran’s if you don’t.” You hear an offended “Hey!”, followed by a smack. The twins bickering is interrupted by your clapping. When they turn to look at you, you’re staring at them with a wide smile.

[I love it.]

You regret the show of appreciation when two sets of hands start pinching your cheeks, cooing at you. 

For the last month, the twins had trained you in every fighting style that specialised in using legs. You pick it all up fast. It’s exhilarating seeing the damage you can do. It’s reassuring to know that you’re strong with or without your evol. 

Also you’ve destroyed over a hundred dummies. Pat yourself on the back!

You haven’t seen Sylus in the last month but this time it doesn’t bother you. The only communication you’ve gotten with him is a message Mephisto relayed. “Focus on your training, don’t show up to work.” 

You don’t think you would have been able to concentrate when your entire body is constantly aching. Any free time you have is spent either at the orphanage or resting in your bed.

The twins and you have gotten even closer during this month. Close enough to divulge some secrets.

It’s yet another day.

Rather than taking your frustration out on the dummies, the twins want to spar. Which means you have to be wary of how much force you put in your kicks. Kieran decided to go against you first with Luke watching on the sidelines. 

But the kick you land on him is too hard, the force of it is known by the loud sound ricocheting throughout the room. Before you can drop everything and see if he’s okay, you notice it. You notice Luke holding his side in pain. The exact same spot you had just kicked his brother in. 

You’ll ask about it later but for now, you rush off to find the first aid kit. You examine the area on Kieran, he tried to play it off but the shake in his voice was too noticeable. The guilt must have been clear on your face because he relents when he notices the tears in your eyes.

You don’t want to hurt those you care about. Intentional or not. Physically or not.

Luckily there is no internal damage, just some bruising that should go away on its own. You give him an ice pack. Then you turn to Luke.

[Show me yours.] 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he crosses his arms and looks away.

You move yourself into his field of view and sign. [I’m not stupid, I noticed. Show me or I’ll tell the boss that it was you who drank his favourite wine.]

That sets him straight and he shows you. He’s given an ice pack as well.

It all makes sense how they seem to be so in sync, to the point where they feel everything the other does. It’s great, sure, but it’s a huge weakness. 

Take one down and the other does as well. 

Not on your watch.

[My evol kills me,] it’s only fair to let them know something of yours in exchange. You don’t have to see their faces to notice the confusion so you explain in more detail.

The three of you go out for some ice cream for comfort after.

This time it’s Sylus who is waiting for you in the room. He’s at the shooting range. You walk over. The boots you’re wearing make enough noise for him to hear. He turns to you and you freeze at the soft smile on his face. You narrow your eyes at him in distrust, making sure to keep a distance. What is he planning…

He only chuckles. “Relax, little bird. I only want to have an honest conversation with you.” Your body language relaxes a little but you’re still on edge. He continues his words when he notices, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m putting you through all this.” When you nod, he closes the distance. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek but stops before it makes contact. He’s gauging your reaction and continues when you don’t give him a reason to stop.

Your breath hitches when his fingers cradle your cheek. “It’s all for your benefit…and mine of course.” His eyes are hooded as they stare into yours. “I want you to slice the necks of each individual that did this to you,” his fingers move to the large scar across your neck. You tilt your head up to give him access. “Each individual that works for them will die by your hand only, I’ll make sure of it,” he promises you. And despite your mind screaming at you to not believe him, you do.

[And what do you gain out of this?] He laughs softly at your question. You know him so well. “I get a super soldier.”

He tugs you towards the shooting range. “Now, let's see how you fare with this.”

Sylus stares at his bedroom ceiling. 

The both of you had come to some sort of understanding with each other since then. He had taught you how to use guns and hand weapons, it’s dangerous for you to rely on your legs. He’s working towards getting you to be comfortable using your evol, but that won’t be for a while. You can be very stubborn when you want.

The guns hadn’t appealed to you like the blades had. You had settled on a pair of twin blades, the sword’s blade could extract leaving just the handles, which made them easy to carry. You asked them to be modified further, so they could be hot enough to cut through anything. It was an interesting ask, one that he indulged in. It took a while to develop, to find the perfect protocore that would work with it but he prevailed in the end. The giddiness in your face had made it all worth it. 

He’s fucked.

He still doesn’t know the answer to what you mean to him. All he’s aware of is that you can never leave him. You have a power over him that no one else does.

Like right now, you locked him inside his own room. He can easily escape but he’s not going to. Why? Because the image of the puppy eyes you had flashed at him pops up again. He’s about to set up an important deal, so sleep has been sacrificed. However, you noticed this and put your foot down. 

“It’s hardly fair, little bird. You never sleep.” You had taken up all the space in his bedroom door, your arms outstretched so he couldn’t leave. [I’m fucked in the head. What’s your excuse?] He only sighed, rubbing the space between his head. 

I don’t have time for this.

But when he looked back up, any thoughts of disagreement went out the window at the pleading look you gave him. [Please?]

That’s why he’s currently trying to glare a hole into the ceiling. He can’t believe he let you win. With a huff, he accepts his fate and closes his eyes.

The clock reads 8:00AM when he awakens. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he becomes all too aware of the silence throughout the house.

The uncharacteristic silence.

You don’t live with the twins and have a moment of peace. They don’t make it possible.

He’s rushing out the door. What are they up to? He does not want a repeat of last time. No, he can’t even think about it. 

The twins aren’t in their room, or in any of the other miscellaneous rooms in the house. He knocks on your door and opens it when no one answers. It’s also empty. Maybe the three of you have gone out together again, he calms himself down. 

Coffee.

He walks to the kitchen, passing by the living room but stops in his tracks. 

Found them.

They’re currently sitting down in the armchairs, tight ropes all around them. Their necks are slumped forward but the snores coming out of their mouths stop any panic. His eyes move over the couch. You’re sitting down on it. Still in your pajamas with a robe around you and fluffy slippers on. There’s a tablet in your hand and a steaming cup of coffee on the table. One hand is typing on the tablet while the other is giving head rubs to Mephisto, who is sitting on the couch’s arm rest. The bird looks very comfy at the affection he’s getting.

You look up when he enters, a warm smile on your face. You set the tablet down and get up to greet him. [Morning. Did you sleep well?”]

“I did,” he hums before pointing at the nuisances. “What’s all this?” You look at the direction, a mischievous look in your eyes. [I needed their help with something which they did! But they were being too loud and I was afraid they would wake you up so I handled it.] 

“By drugging them?” 

You give him a beaming smile in response. [Aren’t I a genius?] If you had a tail, it would be wagging. He smiles while imagining the sight. 

His hand brushes the stray hair out of your face. “Yes. Yes you are.” It moves down towards your wrist, his fingers lace with yours and he’s pulling you towards the kitchen, making sure to grab your cup of coffee. Mephisto follows behind. “Come. Let’s have breakfast together.” 

You instantly move to the fridge but look up at him when his hand slams the door shut. Sylus moves you towards the bar stool. “I’m cooking today. Just sit there and look pretty.”  He turns around and opens the fridge door. Simple eggs with toast will do. With the ingredients in hand, he moves to the stove. In a few minutes, the sound of the eggs sizzling can be heard with the toaster also on. He can feel your stare on him. 

As it should be.

He keeps an eye on you when you get up, heading to the coffee machine. You’re making it for him. The two of you are silent as you work, only the sounds of the equipment you’re using can be heard. You move towards him, and he accepts the cup. It’s just how he likes it.

[I’ll be back.] By the time you come back into the kitchen, he’s putting down the two plates on the table. The tablet is in your hand.

You sit down with him, looking for something on him and slide it to him when you do. He picks it up and reads it.

“This is…How-”

[I’ve been watching him for two weeks. As soon as you wanted the deal.] 

He puts the tablet down on the tablet. “Why?” arms crossed as he stares at you.

[Because he was too clean. Nothing on his finances, not even the hidden ones. No one is that clean when they live here. Certainly not someone that rich. I figured he’d mess up and I was right.] 

He continues to stare at you. A sign to not stop. 

[He has a mistress. Which wouldn’t be a problem but his wife has an iron tight prenup. One that’ll leave him with nothing if his infidelity is proven. That’s why I got the twins to…persuade him to take the deal. With a 5% loss to profit for him.] You wait for some sort of reaction from Sylus, you normally wouldn’t intervene with his business like this but you noticed the exhaustion in his eyes. Sure, it would've been easy for him to get what he wanted by brute force but that’s not how the world of business works. A reputation like that would only cause issues.

“Don’t do such a thing again,” he warns you. “That’s not why you’re here,” he pauses, “but good job.”

Later during the day when you return to your room, there’s a big stack of folders waiting for you. On them is a sticky note, ‘A reward,’ printed on it. When you open the folder’s it’s all the information he had promised you, about Eiden. But any thankfulness goes away at the dates listed. Sylus had been watching your brother for a long time, before the whole drama in his office. He already had all this information when he promised he’ll look into your brother. But he kept it these last couple of months. When you had disappointed him.

You can’t believe you trusted the words he spoke to you. You had hammered yourself down and begun anew for him. You’re letting him turn you into a killing machine. Your gaze falls back onto the sticky note.

Reward.

The word is sitting there, mocking you. What else is he keeping from you? Hiding it away and only letting you when you’ve satisfied him. 

With a new found resolve, you crush the note in your hands. Two years. He had invested a lot in you these two years so that’s what you’ll give him. The next two years, you’ll do whatever he wants. You’ll be whoever he wants. But as soon as the time is up, you’re gone.

Not just from him, from them all.

AN: We have Zayne in the next chapter!! Finally!!!

[tremsing82]

“Lucien did nothing as Feyre was abuse”

Tamlin never abused Feyre. And if you’re referring to the one time he blew up the room with Feyre in it that is not abuse. It’s confirmed canon lore with high fae magic that they can have magical outbursts when emotionally unstable either with a panic attack or with anger. We see both Rhys do this and we see Feyre do this with her attack on Beron at the high lord meeting which she did hurt an innocent person, LoA. Tamlin is suffering from ptsd just like Feyre is, they are just displaying it differently. Feyre is shutting down while Tamlin is going overprotective. And it’s understandable that he is being overprotective. He had to sit for 3 months and watch the woman he loves be tortured and sexually abused and sexually exploited to save him. SAVE HIM. He was powerless for 3 months to help her. THAT’S GONNA EFFECT ANYONE MENTALLY and EMOTIONALLY FOR A WHILE AFTERWARDS.

And now she has what is essentially a slave tattoo on her arm that allows Rhys to own her for 1 week a month. Rhys a known Daemati. Rhys a man who offered his services to Amarantha. Rhys the person who killed multiple people UtM for Amarantha. Rhys who harassed Tamlin and Lucien every chance he got. Rhys who called Feyre human trash and revealed her sexual desires out loud. Rhys who made Feyre sick to her stomach when he raked his nails inside her brain. Rhys who threatened Lucien’s mother and then almost melted Lucien brain when he wouldn’t reveal Feyre’s name to Amarantha. That’s the Rhys Tamlin is trying to protect Feyre from. Let also take into account that Tamlin is the lord of spring court where the wall is located and Amarantha’s boss, the king of Hybern, wants access to that wall to reinstate human slaves. So Tamlin has Rhys, a known to Prythian sadist owning Feyre and King of Hybern wanting to invade his lands, on his enemy list. And Feyre a newly born MADE fae is with him and needs his protection. And now that he has his high lord powers back he can ACTUALLY protect her unlike UtM.

And you’re acting like Lucien locked Feyre in a room and let Tamlin beat the shit out of her as he stood outside it. Lucien who helped Feyre UtM every friggen chance he got even knowing the punishment for doing so. Lucien who argued against both Tamlin and Ianthe to let Feyre train. Lucien who went against orders and took Feyre outside of the manor grounds to the nearest village. Lucien who was the recipient of one of Tamlin’s magical outbursts. Lucien who was running himself ragged trying to help Tamlin against Amarantha remaining beasts roaming spring court lands, rebuilding, evading Ianthe, advocating for Feyre, going to day court to study breaking bargain spells, and reorganizing springs courts army. That’s the Lucien who did nothing for Feyre 🙄🤦‍♀️

And yes Lucien did try to grab Feyre in the night court forest because she was KIDNAPPED. She had not sent any letter or came back to talk to Tamlin, her fiancé. She was with a man (who the readers now know is a “good” person) that has spent 300-500yrs cultivating a sadistic, evil, torturous high lord persona of himself to the other fae of Prythian. Lucien SPENT 3 MONTHS WATCHING THIS MAN DRUG FEYRE AND SEXUALLY EXPLOIT HER!!!! Lucien knows the powers of a Daemati and how they can brainwash and manipulate your thoughts. He has no clue Feyre has fallen in love with Rhys voluntarily. Because Feyre hasn’t reached out to either him or Tamlin in all these months to reassure them of her safety or new growth in her soul as a person. She got better with Rhys but that does not mean Tamlin knew that or Lucien knew that. The readers know that but we need to remove ourselves from the inside knowledge and look at the situation from outsider perspective. And also Feyre saw how desperate Lucien was in this forest. She heard his words and how he stumbled over himself in what he wanted to say. And she thought nothing of his state of mind. Never once thought this is not how my friend acts. Something is wrong. Nope she wanted to scare him and threaten him and gaslight herself into truly believing that he abandoned her. When that was the farthest from the truth.

Acotar book 1-3 is a first person PoV. And when we only get the narrative from one person we have to declare the narrative unreliable. Feyre’s feelings are justified and true, but the actions of everyone around her and what she thinks the people around her are thinking is unreliable. We have to step away from Feyre and see each character from their perspective, from their mental space, and from their trauma induced psychosis.

[alastor-simp]

Panic Attack😰 - Alastor x Female Reader

📻Pairings- Alastor X Female Reader

📻Genre- Comfort and Fluff

📻Tags- Panic Attack, Alastor Comforts Reader, Anxiety Attack, Comfort, Alastor is not used to stuff like this, Alastor tries his best, Fluff, Hugs, Episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel Series

📻Notes- Sorry for the lack of Alastor x Reader stories, been busy with work also wanted to write for my other favorite fandoms like Twisted Wonderland and Love and Deep space. Hope you guys like this chapter.

📻Credit- Divider by @wetandtiny

**Key- [ ] indicates the inner thoughts the reader is having, so you don't get confused**

["Loud, Loud, ITS TOO LOUD!!!!!"] Your thoughts spiraled out of control, as you sat in the corner, voices muffled coming from other parts of the room. Charlie and the others were watching the TV, eyes widen in shock at seeing the news broadcast, showcasing the recent update to the changes to the next extermination, arriving in 6 months instead of a full year. Everyone's voice sprung out, some in anger and others in shock, minus Alastors, watching the whole ordeal with a smile on his face. Oh how he delighted seeing the utter panic in everyone's eyes, until his eyes snapped to yours, those feelings of glee drawing to a massive halt, oh dear.

The pupils in your eyes had dilated, tears starting to form. Your breathing was painful, almost like someone was suffocating you. Claws scratched at your chest, wanting the tightness to disappear. Your head felt like it was underwater, everything sounding muffled, yet only the voice in your head was clear. ["Why? Why is this happening? You had found sanctuary here when you arrived in Hell, having missed the recent extermination, feeling somewhat at ease that it was only going to come happened again next year, and now? Now its going to come again in 176 days!!! No NO!!].

Body shaking, you continued to claw against your chest, breaking the skin, blood coating your fingers. You needed to get away, away from everyone, they don't need to see you like this. Getting up with shaky legs, you slowly walked away from everyone as they continued to talk about what had just happened. The fact you could even move was shocking, considering how much you were shaking, as you still felt like your body was begging for air, lungs constricting with every step you took. Multiple voices spoke inside your mind, swirling around like a tornado, as you hurried to your room. A black portal had opened up in front of you, not spotting it as your vision was fading in and out, as your body fell into it, letting out a scream.

One second you were in the hallway and the next you were in a forest, surrounded by large trees and a massive river flowing. "W-what?" You could barely speak as you tried to figure out where the heck you were. "Ahh the little darling has arrived." A static voice called out from behind you, making you turn around, seeing Alastor walking towards you, hands behind his back. "A-Al? W-w." You whispered, hand clutching your chest even tighter, causing Al's eyes to narrow. "Well, my dear, I noticed your predicament in the lobby and decided to bring you to my room, preferably away from the other residents."

His mouth was moving, but you could barely pick up what he was saying as the dreading feeling was getting worse, causing you to drop to your knees. Alastor had not predicted this, eyes widen in shock having seen you fall to the ground, as he rushed over, getting on his knees, "Darling! Are you alright?" He placed his hands on your shoulder, peering down at you, observing you take gasping breaths, hands clutching your chest to the point your knuckles turned white. "It...it hurts. I-I can't breathe." Gasping out, you clutched your eyes shut, heart beating out of your chest. Alastor, for the first time, didn't know what his next move should be, he had hoped the ambience of his room would be enough to calm you down, but it apparently was ineffective. His hands continued to rub at your shoulders, hoping that would work, but you remained the same.

The smile on his face had almost dropped, for he was actually beginning to worry about your well-being, something that stunned him and irked him. He was not one to provide comfort to someone, but the sight of you was making his black heart clench. Moving his arms from your shoulders, he had position them to your head, pushing it down, allowing your head to hit his chest. Letting out a gasp, you didn't expect Alastor to do that, opening your mouth to say something, until your ears picked up on the soft sound coming from the radio demon. It was muffled, but there was a soft beating sound coming from his chest, laced with a bit of static due to his nature, "Bumbum.....bumbum......bumbum." Alastor remained silent, clawed hand rubbing your head softly, while the other went to your back, holding you closer.

Little by little, the suffocating feeling was diminishing, the loud voices slowly going away, allowing to focus more on his static heartbeat. Your lungs became lest restricted, finally able to breath as you took in a few deep breaths. You pushed your head closer towards his chest, nuzzling into the warm soothing feeling he was giving you. "Shhhh...its alright now, my dear." His voice was soft, no hint of static, as he continued to hold you. After a couple minutes, you slowly removed your head from his chest, looking up at him smiling, eyes still watery from your crying, "Thank you, Alastor." His crimson eyes were warm as he pulled away, yet he kept his hand on your back, keeping you steady. "Seeing that you now have a smile on your face, I presume you have managed to calm down." Alastor continued to observe you, noticing the blood scratches on your chest, due to you scratching it during your episode. Placing his hand on your chest, he whispered some voodoo chant, as he soon removed it, wounds fully healed.

Noticing what he did, you widened your eyes, muttering another thank you. Tilting his head, Alastor asked as to what had happened to cause such a reaction. Looking down, you began to explain everything, "I..I had just arrived here, having met all of you and developed close friendships. The extermination being the last thing on my mind, and now that whole announcement." Your hand grasped his own, rubbing it gently "I just...thought about losing this, losing everyone, you....it just....everything began to bubble up and it just felt like too much that I had that attack. I'm sorry that you had to go out of your comfort zone to help me." Alastor sat there, listening calmly, a bit shocked that you had that episode due to your fear of the exterminators and losing him? Part of him wanted to laugh boisterously, yet he didn't.

His hands went to your cheeks, rubbing them affectionately. "It is quite alright, my dear. But, there is no need to worry about that now. That day is still far out, so there will be time to prepare. And as for losing everyone as well as me, that will never come to pass. I swore to offer my services here, and that includes protecting this hotel and all of you." His voice was laced with honey, as he continued to rub your cheeks, like a parent would to a child. "However, if there is ever a time that you are suffering from this again, please seek me out or call my name. Placing your hands on top of his, caressing them, your lips drew up into a kind smile, "Okay."

The two of you stay like that, until you looked away, focusing back on where you were. "This is your room?" Alastor brightened up at you mentioning it, smile expanding, "Ah yes! During my youth, I had always admired the bayous in my hometown. I often times when there to calm me down after an eventful day. I assumed bringing you here would offer the same assurance that it gave me." Your heart picked up at that statement, seeing as how he almost never showed this side of himself to anyone, and he had offered to show it to you, evening mentioning his past, which he NEVER revealed to anyone. "I think I was too far into my attack to realize what was going on, sorry. Since we are here now, mind showing me around this part of your room, does it continue forever or?"

Chuckling at your questions, Alastor stood back up, hand grasping yours to lift you up. "It goes as far as I want it to. Let's take a little stroll, my dear." Hooking his arm with yours, he led you further into his dimensional room, allowing the two of you to explore, enjoying each others company, the panic attack being a thing of the past.

-END-

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink

[mrcrawly]

MORE house MD headcanons (just hilson)

finished season 2 officially FINALLY. took forever. anyway these freaks live in the little furrows of my brain and eat my grey matter so here's this

House:

had multiple deadly allergies as a kid that he grew out of as an adult for some reason

the pickiest eater you have ever seen. the canned soup is not a laziness thing he's just afraid to waste his money on shit he won't eat

composes his own songs on the piano when he's got time but never writes then down, freestyles that shit

DEFINITELY has some pot he smokes a few times a year

obviously when Wilson learns this he's concerned that maybe it's laced and is like House where are you getting this and House literally tells him the exact location on the exact part of town on the exact street and where the guy normally is on weekdays because he assumes Wilson wanted in on it

subconsciously thinks of Chase, Cameron, and Foreman as his children. of course he doesn't realize it nor would he ever admit it so don't misinterpret but lwk worries about them a lot and talks about them to acquaintances in such a way that multiple people actually think he has three grown up children

gets overstimulated fairly easily but not the shut-down-get-quiet overstimulation he starts yelling and hitting things and getting pissed off

has bad anxiety but in the opposite way most people do. doesn't get anxious in most social situations at all whatsoever but give that man ten minutes alone with his thoughts in his own house and he's sweating

doesn't sing but has perfect pitch. sometimes someone in the office will hum something or make a noise and he'll just absently go "E flat" (based on one of my irl friends noah you won't see this but you freak me the fuck out with that)

runs cold all year (something something universal recipient)

eventually stops drinking because it gives him panic attacks and nightmares

sad weepy drunk

pretends not to care about patients but there have been several times that a patient died and made him completely shut down for days at a time

views his disability as something to compensate for

if House MD took place in the modern day he would definitely have a twitch live stream about a patient to get idea

chronic nail biter

most definitely would own one of those massive fucking brick flip phones even if the show was set today

he doesn't know what OS stands for. couldn't tell you what a USB-C looked like if his life depended on it. wouldn't be very good at operating a smart phone. has an extremely durable cheap phone because he's always dropping and/or throwing it

Wilson:

lactose intolerant methinks

or possibly gluten sensitive

would still eat gluten bread and dairy products regardless

never quite got the hang of chopsticks. if he gets sushi or Chinese takeout with House, House makes that little chopsticks contraption for him

do you guys know what im talking about

the kind of autism that makes you feel bad about everything ever all the time and obsessed with a particular thing

definitely collected baseball cards at some point in his life

doesn't really keep kosher but hates most meat so he rarely ends up mixing dairy and meat anyways

if you gave him one of those Nee Doh nice cube things he would sit there and play with that shit for hours at a time

if he was born in the right generation he would have loved slime as a kid

ended up really close with House's team

does marching Halloween costumes with House every single year

House actually doesn't like Halloween (lots of walking) but it makes Wilson happy so usually he agrees

one year they went as American Gothic (House insisted on being the old man with the pitchfork and now everyone has photos of Wilson in a bad blonde wig)

really good in pediatrics. it really wears on him if he has a young patient but he handles it really well

taught himself to make balloon animals for the pediatric cancer patients

runs warm all year (something something universal donor)

big spoon

has joint problems but he insists it's not that bad so he won't go get seen for it

favorite movie is Pretty in Pink

office teddy bear. working in oncology is hard and some of the nurses just don't take it as well, so if he's around he takes it upon himself to comfort them

shockingly pretty good with technology and phones. i like to think this is because he has a fairly adaptive personality as it is and medical technology (especially in oncology) is always changing so he's used to keeping up with new things

definitely would have one of those fucking military ass otterboxes and a tempered glass screen protector and a camera protector like someone is gonna come run over his fucking phone

lwk i think he'd be kinky asf but im gonna leave that there

[azrielbrainrot]

Such a Perfect Place To Start

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3911

Notes: When I started writing this I didn't think it was going to lead to that. Hope you like it!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

When you were called to the House of Wind so urgently by the High Lady herself you were expecting a more pressing matter, a life or death situation like you're used to, not exactly a library full of books. You don't know how long you've been sitting in this chair but you couldn't feel your butt anymore, no matter how many different positions you tried to sit in. You were used to doing some research while studying new healing techniques or herbs but these millenia old books on magical symbols were a little different.

There had been some attacks across the Night Court, including in the mountains surrounding Velaris, with some pretty disturbing details. After being killed, the victims' eyes had been removed and a symbol had been carved into their chests. All the symbols were different and, at this time, their meaning was still unknown. Unfortunately, none of the victims had survived either so there weren't any witnesses and, even after Azriel's thorough investigations, there was no evidence left behind by the culprits. It was as if no one had even been there.

You had heard some rumors about this before getting called in. Gossip spread around fast in Velaris and, even with the Inner Circle's efforts to keep panic to a minimum, people had found out about some of the details. The area around Velaris is relatively safe so to have multiple killings in a short time and in such gruesome ways was causing a bit of a fearful atmosphere to fall upon the city of dreamers. The increase in security wasn't easily missed either.

After being summoned to the River House, Feyre and Rhysand had briefed you on everything they knew and asked you for your help, seeing as they could only trust a few select people. Since there were no other clues left behind besides the symbols, the High Lord decided that, for now, everyone should focus on finding their meaning, so he sent his most trusted people to his private library to look through every book that might help.

You had obviously felt incredibly honored and happy that they trusted you this much. You've been getting closer to the inner circle after your talk with Azriel a few months ago, and sometimes still feared your friendships were a bit one sided.

As honored as you felt that they trusted you, though, you had spent days searching through old books just to come up empty. It was more tiring than a week at a war healing tent. Not to mention having to do so by Amren's side. You had no personal problems with the newly turned high fae but she still scared you profusely. Your power gave you a sense of people's aura and hers had always felt unsettling at best, even after getting turned.

At least, you weren't alone with her, everyone in the Inner Circle and some of the Valkyries had shown up at the library to help at some point. There was no way of knowing who could be behind these attacks and, from what you gathered, these fae had been moving across the court too easily, meaning they could be from the night court or even Velaris, so you couldn't involve the priestesses in the library.

The sky was already completely dark outside, making way for the millions of stars to shine in the sky. The atmosphere was a little too quiet for this time of night, usually there would still be fae walking around the city, in and out of bars and theaters. Amren had already left. The ancient one had tucked a book under her arm and walked out without much of a goodbye, leaving you with Feyre and Azriel in the library.

“I think it's time to stop for the day,” your High Lady's voice cut through the silence suddenly, “Rhys just finished at the office too.” Sometimes you envied how convenient the daematis abilities were. As her eyes glaze over and a smirk threatens to play at her lips, you know her mate is giving her a good reason to go home.

“I'll stay a bit longer,” you hold your finger over the passage you were reading, these old books had tiny fonts and you'd already lost yourself in enough of them to know better now, “I have to go to the clinic tomorrow so I wanted to at least finish this book.” There were only about half a dozen pages left of it so, even if your body was screaming at you to go to bed, you wanted to get this done first.

“Alright,” the High Lady adds her last book to the pile and looks at you one more time, “Don't stay too long. We need you to be focused at the clinic.” Her eyes shift to the shadowsinger and narrow slightly, her tone a little sterner, “You too, Az. Get some sleep.”

The spymaster nods dutifully at his friend's warning and she seems content enough with the response or in enough hurry to meet her mate, as she gives you both one last smile and turns to the door, saying one last goodbye over her shoulder.

Azriel stayed with you, even though his book had just started and there was no way he would finish it tonight. You were torn between thinking it was because he didn't trust you in the House by yourself, as the ever protective spymaster, and just writing it off as his willingness to help his court even at the risk of his own health and comfort, you don't even wanna think how many sleepless nights the spymaster has spent working lately.

You shake off your thoughts and keep reading the boring book. The sooner you finish the sooner you can go to sleep. Even your healing abilities can't do much to fight the headache you were feeling after spending the whole day reading symbols and their uses in dark magic, some of the rituals described were also making your stomach queasy.

Just as you're about to finish the last page, you hear a soft groan coming from Azriel and can't help but look up at him. His head was thrown back, showing off the column of his neck. His eyes were closed tight like he was fighting the same headache as you. With his wings stretched as far as they could go, it looked like they were taking up most of the private library, not that it was a small room by any means.

The spymaster looked exhausted. He's been spending his days meeting up with his spies and informants all around Prythian, trying to find any information on the attackers and investigating any strange movement in the court. At night, he comes home and joins you in the library to help with research, sometimes even staying up later than everyone else. You know he will do the same thing tomorrow and the day after, until you find any relevant clues and catch the killers.

Azriel takes these things more personally than maybe even the High Lord and Lady. His job as spymaster is finding any threats to the court after all, preferably before they happen. You know he must feel like he's failing his court and you wish you could show him that he's doing more than enough, that it's not his fault. Under the tough exterior and immense power, Azriel has an extremely kind soul, you've felt it. He'd make the impossible happen if it meant he could protect his court, his family, even if it cost him his own life.

“You should go to sleep,” you can't help but worry for him, “You were out all day before you came here. You must be really tired.”

You wonder how long it's been since he's had a good night of sleep. Even before this situation, it was no secret that the shadowsinger was a bit of an insomniac. You had given him a few sleeping tonics before in hopes of helping him have at least a few moments of peace.

“I'll wait for you,” he tells you, meeting your eyes. You can see the fatigue swirling around in his unguarded gaze, it seems you had been right to assume he hasn't been sleeping. “You're almost done.”

You look back down at your book and wonder how he's been keeping track of what you've been doing while reading his own book. Still, if finishing this means Azriel can go to sleep, you'll do it as fast as you can. Reading through the last page intently to make sure nothing escapes you.

Just as you're about to finish you make a silent request to the House, and two steaming cups of tea appear in front of each of you. Passionflower tea to lessen his stress and help with sleep, you've given it to him before and he told you it helped so you hope it does the trick once again.

Since you're focused on the book, you miss the way his eyes finally stray from your form to look down at the tea now sitting in front of him. You also miss the smile on his face when he reaches for it and the way his shadows let him know you were the one who asked for it, gushing about how you took care of their master.

“Do you still not trust me, Spymaster?” You close the book and put it into the ever growing pile. Stretching a bit before taking your tea into your hands and blowing on it gently.

“I trust you with my life, sweetheart.” The seriousness in his statement makes you pause with the cup halfway to your lips for a moment. You didn't need the Morrigan's gift to know he was telling the truth. The nickname takes a little longer to register but as soon as it does color rushes to your cheeks.

“Then why wait for me?” You hadn't actually thought he didn't trust you in the library but you still weren't sure why he had stayed behind after Feyre left.

“Wanted to keep you company until you finished,” he shrugged. His voice is a little gravely with sleep which is a big problem for the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach. “We've been spending a lot of time together but we've barely talked.”

He wants to talk to you. You can't help the smile or the giddy feeling washing over you. He's tired but he chose to stay up a little longer to do something as trivial as talking to you.

“What did you want to talk about then?” The way he's picking at the painted decorations in his teacup makes you think he might be feeling a little nervous but you're not sure why.

“Anything you want,” he answered a little too fast. Maybe it's the low lights in the room but you swear there's some color dusting his cheeks.

“It's hard to pick a topic like that,” you say before biting your lip slightly. For some reason you suddenly feel a little pressure to come up with a good topic, not wanting to disappoint or bore him. “Lately, all I can think about is this,” you run your finger over one of the books' spines, “It's hard to focus on anything else after spending hours in here.”

“If you feel like this is too much you can tell me. I'll talk to Rhys and he'll send you back to the clinic,” he frowns. His shadows reach a little towards you, as if wanting to comfort you. You didn't mean to worry him.

“That's not what I meant,” you start, “I want to help. I've just never dealt with anything like this. I've been to war but this… killing innocent fae in such a disturbing way is different.”

“I understand,” he nods, “If you need anything you can tell me. Even if you just want to talk.”

“Alright.” Azriel has a way of talking that leaves you not knowing how to respond sometimes. He's so sincere in what he says that you almost feel like any response would fall short. “You too. If you need help with anything I'm always here for you.”

He gives you a single nod before hiding what looked like a bashful smile behind his tea. You finish your teas like this, enjoying each other's company in the quiet of the night.

You can't hold back a yawn when you set your teacup down. As much as you'd love to stay up talking to Azriel all night, your body is about ready to crash on you.

“We should go to sleep,” he says as he stands up, making the teacups disappear. “You have to be at the clinic early.”

“You're right,” you agree with a sigh, standing up to follow him to the door. You've only been going to the clinic twice a week ever since Feyre asked for your help with this case so you know you'll have a long day ahead of you. “Will you fly me down tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he tells you as he opens the door for you, “What kind of male would I be if I let our favorite healer walk down the thousands of steps by herself?”

“Favorite? I'll tell Madja you said that,” you point your finger at him playfully.

“Second favorite then,” he takes it back with a wink, making you laugh. The smile lingers on your face all the way to the guest room you're staying in and it only deepens when you realize he walked you all the way to your door.

You turn and look up at him expectantly. It looks like he wants to tell you something with the way he's searching your face and his shadows pool at both of your feet. If you didn't know any better you'd think they wanted to crawl up your legs. You've found that they can give some of Azriel's emotions away sometimes, when he doesn't have a grip on them at least.

Your body doesn't react when he bends down slowly, pausing for a brief moment before kissing your cheek softly, murmuring a good night against your skin. It doesn't react after either, when he pulls back to watch your reaction. In fact, it's not until he walks over to his door and lets out a small chuckle, that you finally move and almost crash into the room, fumbling with the doorknob and slamming the door behind you.

As you lean your back against the door, you put your hand over your chest and stare wide eyed at the window across the room. You almost thought you were imagining things. He can probably hear your heart beating all the way in his room across the hall, you wouldn't be surprised if everyone in Velaris could hear with how loud it's beating. You let yourself slide against the door until you're crouching.

You hadn't expected him to kiss you. You know Azriel isn't one for a lot of physical touch. You've only gotten a hug out of him once, during the war after an attack on the healer's tent. He had thought you were dead then, after watching so many die he'd just been glad to see someone he knows still breathing. Actually, you might have been the one to hug him first. You had never been so close to death and were scared out of your mind. It was your first war after all.

You and Azriel had been getting closer over the months, closer than you were with the rest of Inner Circle. Even before your talk that night, he's always been friendly to you, but the shadowsinger was kind to all the healers - to everyone that wasn't his enemy really - so you never thought much of it. But this felt different. Tonight felt different.

You hadn't fully admitted it to yourself yet but the more time you spent with the shadowsinger the more your crush evolved. What had once been a silly crush based on appearance and his kind nature had quickly turned into palpable feelings. You liked him. A lot.

However, acknowledging this could destroy the friendship you had built with him for the past few months, maybe with the rest of his family as well. That's what you thought before at least. You assumed Azriel would never have feelings for you. The idea seemed so preposterous it never even crossed your mind, but now you're not so sure.

Maybe it seemed like you were exaggerating to think this after a little kiss, on the cheek no less, but this kiss made you think back on the last months you've spent with Azriel. He's been insisting on flying you up and down the stairs every time he's around, usually this task would be left to Cassian, who loved showing off his wings to you.

He's been going to the clinic more often too, stocking up on anything he can think of when he's never done that in the century you've been working in Velaris. Azriel was always one to not think much of his own health, it bothered you to no end. He also came to you with every injury. Usually when a member of the Inner Circle was hurt, Madja was the one who was called. You'd only accompany her if she needed assistance or go in her place if she wasn't able to go herself. Of course over the years they'd come to use you more and more, which is why you didn't even think of it, but looking back now… You don't know what to think anymore.

Getting up with a sigh, you make your way to your closet to change. Your thoughts consume you while you get ready for bed but your tiring day catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow. However, this doesn't spare you from dreaming of a certain shadowsinger.

You take longer to wake up than usual, making you hurry through your morning routine. Your body isn't used to the schedule you've been putting it through lately, and it's starting to show. But because of this, it isn't until you go to open the door to the guest room that you remember Azriel is going to fly you down to the clinic. And the incident that had you spiraling before going to sleep.

Deciding walking down the steps by yourself isn't a viable option, you go to find him and pray to the Mother things aren't too awkward between you. It had just been a little kiss on the cheek and your lack of reaction could totally be blamed on the long day, your brain was just having trouble catching up, that's all. It had been a completely normal exchange between friends, not that you're blushing just thinking about it or anything. You could just pretend it didn't happen.

As you make your way to the front door, the shadows dancing around in the hallway catch your eye instantly. You've seen them do this before, when Azriel doesn't need them and they don't want to brave the light, they just linger around the room in curious little wisps. You can't help the smile as they gravitate slowly towards you.

Right after they notice you, their master appears through the door. One of them must have warned him of your arrival, they're so cute sometimes you forget they're spies. Of course they'd tell on you.

“Good morning,” he greets. Azriel may be a shadowsinger but he looks breathtaking in the morning light. His skin glows beautifully and his eyes look a little lighter, it makes him look younger. Gods, how can he be so beautiful?

He looks a little relieved to see you. Maybe he thought you'd escape by yourself or ask someone else to fly you to the clinic to avoid him. It makes you feel a little bad that you had him worried but it's his own fault for playing with your heart like that.

“Good morning,” you smile, walking up to him. “Are you ready?”

“I was just waiting for you,” he says as he extends a hand for you to take. This has the nerves already lingering inside your body make themselves more noticeable. You almost forgot flying you down means he'll have to carry you. It had taken a while for you to get used to not only the flying but also the way he had to hold you - funny how you never had this problem with Cassian.

You take his hand and try not to move too much or gasp as he picks you up off the floor like you weigh nothing. He immediately starts walking to the edge of the stairs, holding you close to his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he breathes into your ear, extending his wings and getting ready to take flight. You do as he says and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, praying he can't feel your heart beat inside your chest.

You'll never get over how stunning Velaris looks from above or how the wind passes around you as you soar through the clouds. It's a real shame that you weren't born with wings. You understand why Illyrians are so protective of them, after knowing what this feels like, it's hard to imagine never being able to do it again.

“You know I won't drop you.” You look away from the landscape and meet his gaze. He can probably feel how tense you are but you can't tell him it has nothing to do with the height or any fear of him letting you fall.

“I know,” you assure. “What would you do without your favorite healer?” He lets out a small laugh in response and your body finally relaxes.

The flight doesn't take long, and, before you know it, he's landing right outside your clinic. He helps you get down and even holds onto you a little longer, giving you a once over to make sure you're steady on your feet.

An idea passes through your mind and you bite your lip, wondering if you'd truly lost it. You take a quick look around before you lose your nerve. It was still early enough that the streets were almost deserted, no one should see you.

Turning back to the shadowsinger, you hesitate again when you notice him watching you, probably wondering what you were up to. If you read the situation wrong this could make things very awkward for the two of you.

Deciding not to let your anxiety reign your life, you grab his shoulder gently so you can pull him a little closer to your height. Standing on your tiptoes to clear the rest of your height difference. You hold onto his cheek and place a soft kiss on the other side of his face, murmuring a “thank you”.

You step back again and look up at him, still slightly bent from where you pulled him to you and looking at your face with wide eyes. You're not sure if you've ever seen the feared spymaster so caught off guard before. There was a small smile playing at his lips though, so you assume you hadn't completely misread the situation. You can't help but form a grin of your own and turn around to go inside the clinic, leaving him behind just as he did to you last night. Your heart soaring higher than you had just been.

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Devotion & Deceit

Rhysand x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Upon learning Rhysand intends to go through with his proposal, you begin to deteriorate. Your mates complete disregard for your concerns leaves you making some brash decisions of your own.

Read pt.1 to Devotion & Deceit - HERE

Read pt.4 - HERE

Warnings: Descriptions of trauma, Panic Attacks, Blood, Depression, Brief mentions of self harm.

You weren’t able to get up out of bed, and despite Azriels visits and multiple attempts, he couldn’t get you up either. Even though the majority of your time was spent in the small bedroom of that log cabin, very little time was spent actually sleeping in it. The miniscule amount of sleep you did get was broken by you jolting awake in the dead of night only to cry until the sun peaked through the cracks of the drapes that remained closed no matter what time of day.

The meals that Azriel brought to you remained ignored and untouched on the nightstand, to be removed by him the next day with a fresh platter in the hopes that you would at least pick through it. On occasion the smell would have you scrambling for the toilet, thin figure peeled over the side as you dry heaved into the bowl. The meals eventually reduced to small snacks the more often it happened, making you feel the slightest hint of guilt which only had you burrowing further into the sheets.

Niliana’s best efforts didn’t seem to shake you either, she’d come by to give you the latest spiel of the gossip in town, or brush out your hair as you laid in bed. She came by every day for the better part of a month, until the work she put off caught up to her, sending the wraith scrambling to catch up. She no longer came by.

Rhys hadn’t sent a word down the bond. Not a flicker of emotion, pain, even a thought. Just.. nothing. He was completely shut off from you. Not like you could complain, you did the exact same to him, going completely MIA.

“Have you two spoken?” Azriel said from the doorway, a glass of water in hand along with a small rag that undoubtedly held more food he wanted you to shove down your throat. Azriel sighed as he saw your eyes fall on the item, a grimace gracing your features. You muttered a soft “no” as he padded towards the bed, hand outstretched in a silent plea for you to sit up.

You groaned, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes, the dark circles surrounding them making you look like you had taken a beating. “I need to change anyways.” You croaked; voice rough as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.

You had visibly lost weight, your legs looking like if you look a step they’d crack under the pressure. You couldn’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit. Ever since he had chosen her. Left his mate to rot in this stupid log cabin as if you meant nothing to him. Chose her again just like he did Under the Mountain, while Amarantha forced you to watch every night as she danced for him in that skimpy little outfit. But even then, you understood, then you knew that he was doing it for you- doing what was necessary.

What you didn’t understand was this. It had ended, you had run to him in that arena like you had wanted to for fifty years. You had clung to him like he was your lifeline. Five decades of Amarantha using you as her slave, only allowing you to see Rhys when he was tangled up with her. Always by her side.

And he had chosen someone else over you- yet again.

Azriel broke your thoughts by holding out the glass to you, and you rose from the bed, taking it in your frail hands, slightly shaky from the lack of vitamins. You brought it to your mouth, letting the chill of the glass rest on your bottom lip as you swallowed a few mouthfuls of the liquid. It didn’t go down easy, the cold making you recoil slightly as you swallowed the last bit.

You turned back to hand the glass back to Azriel, but he was frozen, face pale as he looked at you. His shadows swarmed him, moving around him in a frenzy, curling towards his ears, flicking around his waist. He stared at the glass you held out to him, and you slowly retracted your hand as you realize he was too caught up in whatever his shadows were whispering to him.

Your face fell, and the corners of your mouth downturned into a poorly concealed frown. “Is she there?” You asked, the question falling out of you before you could do anything to stop it, not that you could’ve. You didn’t know why you needed to know so bad, your body ached with the question, your hand gripping the glass tighter in an unexplainable want.  His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but immediately shut closed as he hesitated. He didn’t need to say it, you knew.

You knew, you always knew.

Something in you snapped, and like a cage being unlocked, a fiery, all-consuming fury burst through the bars and swallowed you whole. The feeling swamped you like a tidal wave, your arm cocking back, barely feeling the glass slipping from your grasp as you sent it soaring straight at the wall.

The glass shattered immediately upon impact, the sound breaking the comforting stillness of the room, making Azriel flinch. Shards of glass and remnants of water were blown back at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you felt the water drench the front of your shirt. The cloth stuck to your ribcage, the frigid wetness not registering in the slightest. You felt a shard slice your cheek open as it grazed you, and other bits of glass embed themselves into you as you heard the tinkle of the pieces falling to the floor, a few skittering across the ground.

“I’M NOT STAYING HERE!” You roared, hands coming to cradle your head, hands fisted in your hair. You pulled at the roots, clung to them like they’d offer some grain of comfort as your breathing began to speed up. The room was spinning, everything was spinning.

And you were Under the Mountain again- you were cold and wet. It was dark, your cell was too small. You could feel the dirt and grime and how it was caked under your fingernails like the dust had engraved itself onto you. Your matted hair and the feeling of the violent tugs as you ripped it out. But that was your hair- you could feel it between your fingers. You couldn’t breathe- God, why couldn’t you breathe.

“Get your shit together!” Azriel yelled, jolting you as he forced you to stop spiraling, hands clamping down on your wrists as you stilled. His grip dug into your skin, and you finally surfaced from the hurricane in your head enough to realize you were holding clumps of your hair in your hands. The thin strands hung from your fingers like a morbid Solstice decoration, and you vaguely recognized the sting that told you that you had bitten through your bottom lip in your haste.

You stared at him wide eyed, feeling the burn of your tears leaking into the cut on your cheek. You flinched as you felt a drop of blood hit your forearm, and looked down soon enough to watch the crimson run down the expanse towards your elbow. It stained your skin, and you watched as another drop landed right beside it. You were bleeding, you could feel as it ran down your cheek, over your jaw, mingling with the blood that dripped from your lip down your chin.

“Do you think if you destroy yourself enough that he’ll come save you like he did for Feyre?”

It dawned on you then, just how much you had ruined yourself. You had turned into the very thing you had hated Feyre for. The very thing that had Rhys tripping over himself to go and fix, just like he did for her Under the Mountain.

Yet he didn’t come for you.

“I can’t stay here.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.

“Then you won’t.” Azriel said, letting go of your wrists.

Azriel had helped you calm down and think of what you were going to pack, not that you were taking much with you, the very idea of having anything to remind you of your time here made you want to throw up whatever was left in your stomach. You settled for a small change of clothes, your hands smoothing over the wrinkles as you folded the articles.

“Have you even decided where you’re going?” Azriel asked as he perched on the bed beside you. You shoved the small shirt you were folding into your bag, eyes trailing over to him as he waited on your answer. The drapes had been opened after your breakdown, making the light glint off Azriel’s siphons as he shifted, hands coming to perch on his knees. You shrugged, eyes stinging the slightest bit as they still needed time to adjust to the newly introduced light that you’d been avoiding for weeks. “Home.” You answered simply, finishing shoving your change of clothes into the small pack you now slid over your shoulder.

Azriel bristled, head cocking back as he questioned “The Winter Court?” The dresser at the corner of the room suddenly became very interesting as he made no attempt to hide his concern. “Yep.” You licked your lips, tongue smoothing over the teeth marks that had made a small crater in your bottom lip, the indent making you sigh. “That’s one hell of a flight.” You tucked your knife into the sheath on your thigh, the metal making a grating sound against the studded leather that had you cringing. “It’s not like I could winnow in if I wanted to.”

It's there, then that perhaps Azriel had begun to understand your insatiable need to flee. To leave everything that you had created, the life you’d built, everything that you are. Maybe he had sensed it subconsciously when he had found you that day on the border of the Night Court.

Azriel knew why you couldn’t winnow, it had always been a silent understanding between you two, and exactly the reason he hadn’t touched on it when your training had begun all those years ago. Not that you had gone into detail about what had happened in the middle, what you went through during your journey. But with Azriel being a spymaster, it hadn’t taken him long to fill in the blanks. He knew enough, and he had decided he didn’t need to know anymore- didn’t want to.

But even after you had gotten so used to running, the instinct carved so deep into your blood not even The Mother could undo it, he still had a small pit of anxiety sitting in his stomach that never quite went away. It was out of love, out of an uncontainable fear that history would repeat itself that he swished his hand over towards you, a shadow stirring to life, swirling around your waist and anchoring itself to you.

You watched how it swam and twirled around you, scurrying up your hand and over your arm. “Really?” You had asked, a light, barely there hint of amusement twinged your tone, and he rolled his eyes in response. But when he turned to you, his expression was deadly serious, almost concerned. This man, who had cared for a scared, young Illyrian girl who had somehow crawled her way to the border. Who had taught her how to fly, how to live, how to control the magic that wanted to burst out of her as if it was overflowing. He looked up at you, lips pursed. “You might see her again, you know.” He said, barely a murmur, almost scared that the words he spoke would conjure them to life.

Your eyes flickered to him as you shoved the last dagger into your boot at your heel. “That’s the plan.”

[erodasfishtacos]

My Heart's in Overdrive (& You're Behind the Steering Wheel)

prompt: harry can't catch a break, can't give an explanation, and can only watch how things play out

word count: 3.5k

warnings: angsts, descriptions of anxiety, anxiety attacks, depression

author's note:

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

There are multiple other parts of this up and will be updated this month

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

first FIFTEEN to click here can get a free $5 membership for a month!

-

PART I & PART II

Harry was spiraling.

His mind raced as he tried to formulate an escape plan from the PR date with Tessa. 

He had no recollection of signing the contract, yet there it was, his signature staring back at him like an ironclad promise when Sonny forwarded it to him after getting off the phone call. 

He must have agreed to this at some point, perhaps in a moment of weakness or sheer oversight but he really tried to avoid these types of things.


Even when YN wasn't back in the picture, Harry never enjoyed going on scheduled dates with more pressure than when there aren’t paparazzi and PR teams breathing down his neck.

Regardless, it was binding, and now he had to figure out how to explain it to YN.

God, YN. How was he supposed to tell her? 

Every time they seemed to make progress, something always pulled them back, and this time, it was his fault yet again.

It was like a cruel cycle, one where YN put in all the effort, consistently showing up, prioritizing their relationship, while he let his career obligations dictate their course. 

He wanted to be the kind of partner she deserved, someone who balanced it all effortlessly, but he just kept failing.

Now, he felt caged, not by steel bars or shackles, but by ink on paper—contracts, commitments, and obligations he had no way of breaking without severe consequences. 

The industry was ruthless, and if he backed out, he would be dealing with more than just YN’s disappointment. 

Legal battles, financial repercussions, and a tarnished reputation loomed over him like a dark cloud. 

He couldn't afford to be reckless, not when so many people depended on him.

But YN deserved more than this. 

More than him constantly expecting her to understand, to be flexible, to accept being second priority. 

He had leaned on that grace too many times before, and each time, it chipped away at their foundation.

When he tried to call her, it went straight to voicemail. 

A sinking feeling settled in his gut as he checked their text messages and saw that she had put her phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ for the night.

Fuck.

He couldn’t tell her over text.

How would he even phrase it?

Hey, thanks for the phone sex. By the way, I have a PR date tomorrow morning. Forgot to mention it, but don’t worry—it’s just with the face of Levi’s and totally meaningless.

Yeah, that would go over well.

He wasn’t stupid.

He remembered the comments she had made about his dating history, about his pattern of dating models. 

He could already picture the look on her face when she found out. 

It wasn’t just about the date—it was about what it represented, about the ways it reaffirmed her fears, her insecurities, the ways he had hurt her before. 

This wasn’t just another misstep. 

It was another confirmation that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as important to him as she should be. 

And that wasn’t true. 

It wasn’t. 

Because if they had been talking at the point, Harry would have never signed something like that.

Ever ever ever.

But how could he convince her of that when everything pointed to the opposite?

A tightness gripped his chest, his breathing becoming shallow as his body flooded with panic. 

The weight of it clawed at him, rising up his throat, making his entire body feel like it was on fire. 

He recognized the signs of an anxiety attack before it fully took hold. 

Without thinking, he moved off the bed and into the bathroom, turning the shower on. 

The water was lukewarm, leaning towards cold as he stepped under it, grunting at the ice pelting against the heat of his tender skin.

He needed to ground himself, to regain control, but it wasn’t working.

YN. 

He needed YN.

She was the only one who ever knew how to de-escalate him. 

The only one who could tell when he was getting overwhelmed before he even noticed it himself. 

She had always been that person for him, the calm in the storm, the one who never wavered.

++

YN had always been the calm one, the emotionally regulated anchor in a world that often felt crazy and unpredictable. 

No matter how chaotic the situation or how intense the emotions around her, YN remained a steady presence, someone who could be relied upon to bring balance when everything else seemed to be falling apart.. 

Where others might react impulsively or allow their emotions to take control, YN always found a way to maintain her composure. 

She didn’t rush into decisions or speak without thought; instead, she took the time to process her feelings, allowing herself to fully understand them before responding.

While her friends were often swept up in the storm of their own inner worlds—tossed between the highs of fleeting joy and the lows of uncertainty—YN remained anchored. 

People often marveled at her ability to handle even the most difficult situations with such ease.

Whether it was dealing with a personal conflict, facing an academic challenge, or simply navigating the everyday ups and downs of teenage life, YN always seemed to handle everything with poise. 

Her ability to stay calm in the face of stress wasn’t just a skill; it was a natural part of who she was, a defining characteristic that made her not only emotionally mature for her age but also incredibly wise beyond her years.

Sometimes, YN would get called ‘possessive’ or ‘jealous’ by other girls, and while the words stung, they never quite understood the reality of the situation.

 The assumptions made about her stemmed from one simple fact—no one else ever really got a chance alone with Harry.

 It wasn’t for lack of trying on their part; they all wanted their opportunity to charm him, to see if they could catch his attention, to experience what it would be like to have his undivided focus on them for even a few minutes. 

But it never seemed to happen.

YN was always there, ‘hogging’ him, as they put it, as if he were a prized possession rather than a person with his own agency.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What they failed to see, what they never took the time to understand, was the unspoken language that existed between YN and Harry. 

They didn’t notice the small, intimate moments that passed between them, the subtle ways they reassured one another, the effortless way they navigated social situations as a unit. \

They didn’t see how, upon arriving at the bonfire at their friend’s house, Harry had gently tugged YN’s hand before she could wander too far, his fingers latching onto hers with a kind of desperation that most people wouldn’t have caught. 

His voice, laced with the kind of nervous energy that only she could recognize, had been quiet but firm when he murmured, “Nut, don’t go too far, please.”

And she understood. 

She always did.

 She didn’t roll her eyes or dismiss his worry. 

She simply nodded, offering him a warm smile that told him she wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I won’t,” YN promised.

Years later, when Harry looked back on this time in his life, he would be struck by how profound their communication had been, how mature their connection was despite their age. 

They had operated on a level far beyond their years, always seeming ot balancing each other out in ways that most adults still struggled to achieve.

“What’s your number?” She had asked him then, her voice soft yet steady, knowing exactly what he needed without him having to say it outright.

“A five,” Harry had replied quietly, almost ashamed to admit it. 

There had been a time when he resented the question, when it made him feel weak, as though acknowledging his anxiety somehow diminished his strength as a man. 

He had been conditioned to believe that vulnerability equated to weakness, that expressing discomfort was something to be embarrassed about. 

But YN had helped him see the truth—that it was okay to feel this way, that it didn’t make him any less of a man.

If anything, it made him stronger.

YN would always remind him in a teasing but truthful tone, “Vulnerability is sexy.”

Despite his social anxiety, Harry never let it stand in the way of being there for YN. 

If someone was giving her a hard time, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. 

If she needed defending, he was her first line of protection. 

His anxiety never existed in those moments because his love for her was bigger than the fear that usually controlled him. 

He put her first—always even when it meant pushing his own emotions aside.

And yet, he hadn’t realized just how much she had helped him, just how much he had relied on her, until she was gone.

He got too comfortable.

When they broke up, everything unraveled. 

Suddenly, he was alone in social situations, navigating unfamiliar territory without the safety net she had unknowingly provided. 

There was no buffer anymore, no one to subtly swoop in with an excuse when things got too overwhelming, no one to read the slight changes in his demeanor and pull him aside before the panic took hold.

Instead, he was left to face it all on his own, and the weight of it was crushing.

It wasn’t just the heartbreak of losing YN that drained him; it was the combination of grief and his anxiety spiraling unchecked.

It became a vicious cycle—his anxiety feeding into his depression, his depression making his anxiety worse. 

Every social event, every team function, every new situation felt unbearable without her presence beside him. 

He hadn’t even begun to recover when he attempted therapy, but that, too, had left him feeling even more lost.

The therapist’s skepticism had been like a slap to the face.

“If you are as anxious as you say, why would you ever choose to be a professional football player?”

The question had floored him.

He hadn’t known how to answer it. 

It wasn’t that he had chosen this career because it was easy for him—it was that football was the one place where his anxiety didn’t control him. 

On the field, he wasn’t the nervous guy struggling to make small talk at a team dinner. 

He was fast, he was focused, he was powerful. 

Football had been his escape, the only place where his mind quieted long enough for him to feel normal. 

But the therapist hadn’t understood that. 

Instead of helping him work through his struggles, they had made him doubt himself even more.

After that session, he never went back.

His anxiety continued to gnaw at him, unchecked, until it became suffocating. 

The only thing that seemed to help, even just a little, was the cold water. 

Showers, swimming pools, ice baths—it didn’t matter, as long as he could feel the chill against his skin. 

The shock of it helped calm his body down, helped pull him back from the brink when he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts.

Still, even as the water rushed over him, he couldn’t escape the feeling of being completely and utterly exhausted. 

His breathing was just as heavy as if he had just sprinted the length of a football field, chest heaving, throat dry and burning from the lack of oxygen making its way into his lungs. 

No matter how much he tried to steady himself, to ground himself, it never felt like enough.

And maybe, deep down, he knew why.

Because without YN there to remind him to breathe, to hold his hand when the world felt like too much, he was still learning how to do it on his own.

++

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. 

Harry tossed and turned, his mind restless, his body unable to settle. 

Every few minutes, he reached for his phone, checking and rechecking to see if she had texted back. 

The silence from her end was deafening, and with every passing hour, his anxiety only deepened.

The breakfast date was scheduled for eight-thirty in the morning at a local restaurant that was well-known for being a hotspot for celebrities. 

It was the kind of place where paparazzi loitered, hoping to catch a scandalous photo or an unexpected encounter between two famous people.

 Despite the many times Harry had heard of it, he had never been there himself.

He knew that YN loved a lay-in on the weekends, often staying in bed until nine or even ten if she had the chance.

 But he was praying desperatelythat maybe, just maybe, she had woken up early today. 

That maybe she’d see his message, hear his call, and give him the chance to explain before the media twisted everything into something it wasn’t.

And then, as if the universe had conspired against him, a series of unfortunate events began to unfold. 

Harry considered himself a person with relatively good luck, but today—on the one day he needed it the most—luck was nowhere to be found. 

He needed a favor from fate more than he needed to throw a game-winning touchdown during the playoffs, but fate had other plans.

He had anticipated the presence of paparazzi. 

That was the whole point of this arrangement, after all. 

But what he hadn’t expected was just how many would be waiting for him. 

The scene outside the restaurant was overwhelming—swarming with photographers who acted like vultures circling fresh roadkill.

They were shoving at each other, pressing themselves against his car before he even had the chance to park properly. 

And, of course, because they wanted the best possible photographs, he had been instructed to park at the very front of the restaurant—completely exposed. 

Normally, in situations like this, celebrities were offered the option of a back entrance, a discreet way in.

But not today.

Harry’s anxiety, which had been simmering since the night before, was now reaching a boiling point. 

The flashing cameras, the deafening shouts, the lack of personal space—it all pushed him closer and closer to the edge. 

The paparazzi operated with the delusion that they were untouchable, fearless even in the face of a towering quarterback with broad shoulders and the muscle mass to back up his size. 

They had the upper hand, and they knew it.

Then, the bystanders started to notice the commotion. 

Pedestrians, people who had merely been passing by, suddenly realized someone important was in their midst. 

Like moths to a flame, they gravitated toward the growing mob, adding to the chaos.

In the frenzy of trying to get into the restaurant without causing a scene—or worse, someone getting hurt, Harry never heard his phone ring. 

The noise was too much, his mind too wired, his body too overwhelmed to even register the vibration in his pocket.

By the time he finally made it inside, he was on the verge of hyperventilating. 

But he hid it well. 

No one—not the restaurant staff, not the other patrons would be able to tell just how much he was struggling. 

Only YN ever saw through the cracks in his composure.

The restaurant’s owner greeted him, shaking his hand and immediately launching into a conversation about football. 

It was always football.

Harry nodded along, forcing himself to appear engaged even as he mentally tried to steady himself. 

He was then guided to a very public table on the outside patio, where cameras could easily document every second of the staged date.

Tessa hadn’t arrived yet. 

That, at least, was a small mercy. 

He had a few minutes to collect himself before he had to endure the part of the morning he was dreading the most.

Harry pulled out his phone, fully expecting to see nothing from YN.

But to his surprise, there was a missed call.

8:23 AM.

His heart lurched as he immediately pressed her contact, anxious for her to answer. 

He needed to explain himself. 

Needed her to hear the truth. 

But the call rang once before going straight to voicemail.

His stomach dropped.

She had sent him to voicemail.

How could she already know?

Then, a text appeared on his screen:

YN: Sorry! I’m about to head into a deep tissue massage appointment to work on these aches from the accident. My shoulder’s still twinging a bit!! I’ll call you when I get out! (:

Relief flooded through him, though it was short-lived. 

He wanted to reply immediately, to ask for just a minute of her time, but before he could type out a message, his ‘date’ was arriving at the table.

++

The date was going terribly.

Harry couldn’t focus on anything Tessa was saying. 

His mind was elsewhere, his eyes constantly flicking to his phone.

He was hyper-aware of the paparazzi, more so than usual, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself to feign interest in the conversation.

It didn’t take long for Tessa to notice.

With a scowl on her face, she clinked her fork against the plate in frustration.

“You could at least try to be interested in what I’m saying. We’re on a date, and you’re not treating it like one.”

Harry blinked, setting his phone down. 

His usual cool, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found when he replied sharply, “I’m not treating it like a real date because it isn’t. Public Relations managers don’t set up dates—they set up business opportunities that make them money.”

Tessa’s expression tightened, though she was careful to maintain an air of professionalism. 

Cameras were everywhere, after all.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, low enough that only he could hear.

Harry scoffed, running his tongue over his teeth, “If you typically start relationships with a signed contract, I guarantee you that’s not a great start.”

His stomach churned. 

He could barely take more than a few bites of his meal without feeling nauseous.

The rest of the breakfast was as awkward as expected. 

And yet, they still had to end it with a hug and a kiss on the cheek—nothing inherently intimate, but in the context of this situation, it would be spun into something far bigger than it was.

The moment he was in his car, he peeled out of the parking lot, desperate to get away from the flashing cameras.

But the entire drive home, he was texting.

H: Please, please call me when you’re out of your massage.

H: Nut, I will explain everything to you. I promise.

H: It wasn’t anything. I promise I have an explanation.

H: Call me, please.

For the first few hours, he tried to remain optimistic.

But Harry knew deep tissue massages didn’t last four hours.

By that point, he knew. 

She had seen the photos.

He tried calling.

It rang twice, offering a flicker of hope—but then it stopped. 

She hadn’t blocked him, and while he hadn’t truly believed she would, the lack of an answer still cut deep.

Then he went online.

The breakfast date was trending in the top ten by the afternoon.

The photo of him kissing Tessa’s cheek was the headline image.

So she had seen it.

Harry knew blowing up her phone wouldn’t help. 

He needed to respect her boundaries.

She clearly didn’t want to talk to him.

But he just wanted a chance to explain.

If they weren’t in different cities, he’d be at her door. 

And if he didn’t have a meeting later that he cannot bail on, he’d be on a plane to her by now.

Harry gets this heart-wrenching feeling, and he’s really never felt it but once before.

That had been when YN had ended things with him.

[ohraicodoll]

I know we don’t need the trauma but I kind of want it. What if Elle was with Joel? What if Abby had found out she had found Joel? What if Red got there in time?

Oh boy Joel Miller x Feral Reader 2.3k Words Warning: graphic violence. Gore! Animal attack. No Y/N. No name or description for reader. A/N Also a heads up that I do like Abby in the game and I love the story of Part 2 but if you like her then sorry! This is like not edited really but hopefully it's decent enough and you don't have to read any other of my stories for this. It's technically alternate timeline anyways.

Years in Jackson didn't make her paranoia lessen. If anything, it got worse every time they were outside the walls as Ellie got more and more independent and Joel got older. And it shot up like crazy when they weren't next to her.

The storm had hit hard and she had to pull into Eugene's old weed hut with Jesse to wait it out with Brownie the dog. Ellie had gone with Joel and she'd been so elated at the slow repair of her family that she had readily switched to give them space, taking Ellie's dog Brownie to give him more training outside of wall patrols.

But then the radios had gone staticky and then the call that they couldn't reach Joel.

The panic that had flared was brutal, choking. Flashes to Colorado and blood and fire. A different snowstorm.

She hadn't even waited for Jesse to decide what to do. Hadn't wanted to go slow or think logically and reason with a kid half her age, or else the panic would choke her out completely. Poor Brownie, she'd make it up to him later for roughly grabbing him and throwing him across her lap and making him have to balance on a full galloping horse.

But both of them were made for worse and this was for their people.

The duo were scheduled for the Mine route and when she passed the wreckage of that building, she followed the hoof prints up and up. The lodge. They probably went upward and she didn't even want to think about what had hit them to destroy the mine and the trail of infected bodies in the snow.

Jackson was on fire behind her.

The feeling in her chest was a living thing, clawing at the inside of her skin, gripping her heart and snapping around her throat. Fear. She hadn't felt it so sharply in years. Their home burning behind them and uncertainty in front of her. Fear that everything would be gone and she would be back out there in the world alone after having almost six years of love and comfort and family.

The echoing of another voice, "love will always bring pain." And she had known that and said the pain was worth it. But now that was being put to the test and she was being called out.

That tightening feeling rippled in her, whispering promises of blood and rage and making her grip her hand on the reins and ignore the cold that threatened to steal what little breathe she had.

It was the sight of Shimmer, Ellie's horse with Joel's stallion next to it inside the overhang of the lodge that allowed the tiniest bit of relief to pass through her. But the multiple set of foot prints, too many, stole it away.

And then the sound of Joel's pained yells and Ellie screaming ripped away the last of it.

White noise filled her as she pressed against the wall in the main hallway, ears ringing and hand sinking into Brownie's fur for any sort of grounding. Snow dusted footprints covered the ground around her. Grunts and the sound of smacking flesh and Ellie cursing everyone slipped under the crack of the door, growing louder as she slowly cracked the door open.

Blood rushed through her, cool and hot, vision tunneling.

The pain that speared through her was greater than she had ever known. The universe asking, "are you sure it was worth it?"

Her body wasn't cold anymore, bones no longer aching. Her kid was screaming and her person was in pain. Her Ellie. Her Joel. Her girl and her husband. Hers, hers, hers, the words ricocheted through her mind and that part of her that slept more often than not these days woke up.

It stretched under her skin, claws flexing, teeth snapping, blinking from the darkness.

She was never docile. She would always be a monster.

Six of them. She could spot six. Two on Ellie, one on Joel (she couldn't focus on his body on the ground, only the fact that he was alive and groaning and moving) and three standing watching. Only one actively held a rifle, the rest almost watching in mute horror.

Turning from where she was crouched, her eyes met Brownie's. She had spent five years with the kennel dogs every day, training them, rearing them, making them ready for the world. Teaching them to alert and snarl and rip at her command. That had been her one job she put everything into outside of her family.

And damn if she wasn't good at it, if she didn't make sure that they were weapons in themselves.

One silent command, a single hand motion, and the happy, tired dog was gone.

Hunt.

And he did.

Teeth launched onto those holding Ellie down, digging and ripping, shouts raising as blood sprayed and growls tore through the air so loud it broke through the static. The one holding the rifle swung and she was there, firing once and twice for good measure.

The man's finger twitched but didn't reach the trigger as he jerked and hit the ground hard like a pile of bricks. Eyes swung to where she was, some rushing towards the dog. Another shot in that breath of chaos and the girl with the bloody fist smashed into the ground hard as her knee exploded.

Ellie, her beautiful vicious Ellie, didn't waste any time and flew from the ground. Not hurt, not hurt. She rushed not at Joel because she knew better, bless her, but went for the pistol on the ground, hands wrapping around it and aiming at one of the three that were running to do something.

They hadn't expected someone else.

Brownie left a body and focused on the other, muzzle dripping red where he had tore into the throat of one of the girls and moved on.

It was quick. Gunfights always were in reality. They lasted a breath, the span of time it took to pull a trigger. The two remaining hadn't had time to get to their weapons and aim before she and Ellie had sent bullets into them.

The sounds of the girl with the braid groaning and screaming, her hands slapping the ground as she attempted to crawl were almost drowned by the grunts of the man fighting off Brownie with his snarls. Ellie quickly shot him in the head, his arm in the dog's mouth trying to keep him off of him. The dog finished him off for good measure, flesh ripping and the sound of blood bubbling from the open wound.

The girl wrapped her hand around a blade and tried to swing at her from the ground but she put a bullet through her arm at close range. It barely hung on, attached by shreds of flesh and tendon. In the back of her mind, she was aware of Ellie running over to Joel's body and him crying out in pain as she flipped him onto his back, but her eyes never left her target.

Those sounds filled her, seeping in and settling there as she stepped closer and stepped on the girl's free arm.

"Ellie?"

"He's alive! Just really banged up! She shot his leg!"

Another shot sounded and the girl screamed as she shot the other kneecap out. Tit for tat. Not really, but she felt a sense of poetic thrill at doubling what she had done to Joel. The panic was subsiding, claw easing from her throat, but it didn't settle back into place. It stayed there, peaking out from behind her eyes. Head quirked, rage so quiet and sharp it could cut.

"Fuck you!" the girl screamed, bloody teeth gnashing. That same beast stared back at her. Like called to like and she could recognize that rage easily. But hers had been burning longer, burning for years and years, decades, then shoved down and itching to come out.

Hers was a wildfire compared to this girl's.

"They're fucking Fireflies. From Salt Lake. They came for Joel," Ellie grunted, working on tightening Joel's tourniquet and pulling out a first aid kit from her pack. Once upon a time, she would have said that hopefully. The Fireflies, their end goal, her purpose. But it implied something else now.

Hatred.

She looked down, silently, and pressed more weight on the girls arm even as she bucked.

"You should have stayed there," she whispered, violence coating the words.

"He killed everyone. He deserves to fucking rot for what he did," the girl still bucked and snarled, spitting at her and at Joel, eyes black with hatred.

She only quirked her head and kneeled on the trapped arm to look at her closer, meeting her eye to eye, "So this is revenge?"

The girl snapped, "It's justice."

Justice. It felt like a joke.

She was back in the hospital, tied to a radiator, Joel telling her the doctors who were gonna make a cure were instead going to cut open their kid. She was coughing up smoke from a flash grenade and being dragged without so much as a single question. She was in a surgical room as her kid was knocked out on the table and a doctor was holding a scalpel to keep them from saving her.

They had tore through that hospital, floor after floor. No mercy, no survivors. Colorado had been enough of a lesson on leaving witnesses and she wasn't going to make that mistake again. But "justice" had found them anyways...

...If only so she could teach it that there was no place for it in their world anymore.

She took the knife from the girl's destroyed hand and slowly pushed it into the arm under her boot. It sunk and sunk, tearing through flesh and muscle and bone, and hit wood but she kept pressing until it was stuck there.

"The funny thing is," she started and the words were cold, monotone, but dripping with the promise of what was to come, "you came all this way to kill him. Because he killed your little friends-"

"He killed my father!"

The boot pressed harder. Fangs curled into a grin inside of her and she remembered what it was like before Jackson. The blood and the fury. She let that fully unfurl inside of her and almost smiled down at her, "You would have came all this way and killed him and still not gotten justice...because he didn't do it alone. You had two targets, not one. No matter what, this would have ended in failure."

The girl's eyes sharpened into razors, angry tears trickling down her cheeks. Hatred, pure and unrelenting, knowing she was staring into the eyes of that second target. The other murderer they didn't know about, maybe even the one that had pulled the trigger to kill her dad.

She did smile then, seeing that hatred, "I want you to know you failed and it was all for nothing. Your people tried to hurt mine. And that was the moment they all died. There is no such thing as justice, there is only who survives."

Then she stood and went over to Ellie's side beside Joel while letting out a sharp whistle. The sound of Brownie's feet echoed as he launched himself onto the girl and sunk his teeth into her throat, choking off her screams.

Ellie didn't flinch, didn't look at her like she was a monster or look at the girl in remorse or horror. Because she didn't care.

She only worked on cleaning Joel's wounds to get a closer look at the wounds while whispering that he needed to fucking pull through. A part of her mourned that on their path, they had dragged her along with them. But it would have been a lie.

Ellie had always been right there along with them, hands covered in blood and ready to tear apart the world at their side.

She was as much their daughter, if not through the blood in her veins as the blood on her hands.

Neither of them cared when Brownie sat next to the kid, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted, gore smeared all over his fur. He simply curled up with a whine and pressed his whole body in the small nook between Ellie and Joel.

Joel had always grumbled about the dog when it was outside the kennels, but family knew family.

The snowstorm was slowing but they only focused on him, going through bandage after bandage and whatever pain meds they had. He'd live. She knew he would. He was beat to hell and whether he would keep his leg was up in the air, but he was breathing and cursing and holding onto each of them tightly. That was enough.

"You don't get to leave me, Tex," she whispered to him, brushing his hair back away from his swollen face. His fingers, bloody and trembling, dove into her hair and pulled her down until they were forehead to forehead.

"Not today, Starshine," he whispered back brokenly and they both ignored the tears leaving a path down his cheek.

She wanted to argue not ever. Not if she could help it, not if she was breathing. No one was allowed to take him or Ellie from her and she would tear apart the grim reaper itself if necessary.

Ellie leaned her head against her arm, one hand weaving through her fingers while she gripped Joel's other. The adrenaline was draining from them, the rage a quiet simmer in the aftermath of the destruction. The beast curled up inside her, sated with it's work for now.

If Jesse had anything to say when he arrived, seeing them all kneeling on the ground surrounded by blood and flesh and the smell of copper and gunpowder in the air, he kept his mouth shut.

Everyone knew monsters lived in Jackson.

Everyone knew not to draw their ire. __________________________

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[grandline-fics]

Hello! I just found your blog and I am reading everything that you have (while working🤐)

I have to say I am in love with your writing. You are amazing, can't put the phone down.

I would love to be in the tag list for everything that you will write in the future.

Also if you don't mind can I ask for the Promp "Conforting Kisses" where the reader had a nightmare of the getting badly hurt and they give them kisses to forget maybe?

If you can do it for Luffy, Ace and Shanks I will be thankful for ever. If you don't want to write it is okey💕

Hope you have a great day! 💕

Thank you again for writing💕💖

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Comforting Kisses

WARNINGS:  descriptions of injury, mentions of death. slight angst. hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Shanks

WORDS: 1,340

A/N: Thank you so much for your support and this request! I made a mistake and mis-read it to think you wanted the reader to do the comforting. I also only managed to get something for Luffy and Shanks for this but I hope this is still to your liking and you enjoy how it turned out.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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LUFFY

He was so much stronger than he had been when you first met and joined him on the crew. Luffy had spent two years under Rayleigh’s instruction to ensure he’d never lose anyone else close to him again. So now why was he staring in horror, completely helpless and unable to intervene as you were overwhelmed by multiple heavy hitting opponents he’d defeated in the past. Each one got hit after hit on you, ignoring Luffy’s yells for them to leave you alone. As strong as a fighter as you were normally you were no match against these monsters striking all at once. You didn’t even seem to notice Luffy as he screamed and struggled to get to you. The Captain could only watch as your attackers fell back into shadows while you fell to your knees as a wave of Magellan’s poison and Akainu’s magma came crashing over you.

Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp, limbs locked tightly and body trembling as the cold sweat broke over his skin. With every rapid breath he took, the images he’d just detached himself from flashed in his mind in the dark. Every desperate gulp of air just brought more of a panic, drawing him back to the darkest, lowest point in his life when he’d realised he was weak and couldn’t save his brother. What would he do if he lost you? Before a new panic could set in, he caught the sound of soft footsteps approaching. Immediately he was out of bed and approaching the door, opening it before you could even knock. “Oh, couldn’t sleep either Lu-”

Before you could finish your question, Luffy had his arms out like a shot and pulled you against him. Laying his head against your chest the sound of your heartbeat finally began to ground him, rooting him in reality and not the horrible nightmare that still clung to him. You’d initially tensed at the hug Luffy drew you into, not because of it being unexpected-it wasn’t given how affectionate he was with everyone-but because of how timid he seemed. This wasn’t a usual Luffy hug, filled with warmth and happiness. As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders you could feel the tremor in his frame and took note of how every so often his arms would try to pull you closer. Angling one hand you settled your finger’s against the back of his head, moving in gentle motions to help him relax from whatever nightmare he’d clearly had. 

Lightly you pressed a kiss against the top of Luffy’s head, a small smile tugging at your lips when Luffy slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. It was reassuring to see he seemed more himself albeit still a little shaken. “Can you do that again? Felt nice.”

“Sure.” Leaning forward you pressed a longer but just as gentle kiss against his forehead, your smile growing to hear and feel Luffy’s body relax from the comforting action. You pulled back to watch him carefully. “Ready to go back to bed? I can stay with you if it helps.”

Unsurprisingly Luffy’s gaze hardened at the suggestion. He was tired, he wasn’t going to lie but at the same time he hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to have that nightmare all over against your offer of staying helped him greatly. 

Together you moved back into Luffy’s room and lay down in the bed. Taking naps with Luffy was never anything new but since starting a relationship with him this was the first time you were going to spend the night in his bed. As much as you didn't like the circumstances that led to this but you couldn’t deny how right it felt to lie in Luffy’s arms, pressing comforting kisses against his head as he fell asleep to keep his nightmares away. 

SHANKS

Shanks knew this image well. Loguetown’s town square filled to the brim of people, their heads turned towards the towering execution block and awaiting the procession to appear on the top podium. Overhead thick grey clouds quickly swept in and darkened the clear morning, rain falling heavily as the winds began to shriek. Shanks lifted his arm to shield his eyes, his gaze firmly on the Marines who appeared. Your name was shouted out for the audience to hear and immediately Shanks’ body froze when the two Marines stepped aside and you were roughly shoved onto your knees. 

Your body looked so frail and small on top of the execution block. Even from where he stood he could see the bruises and cuts against your body as you knelt, hands held firmly by the heavy iron shackles and chains. Shanks quickly began to push through the crowd, trying to get to you but for every person he moved out of his way more replaced them. No, this couldn’t be happening. While the two Marines drew their weapons in preparation of what was to come, another stepped forward to begin calling out the charges. 

“You have been found guilty for aiding and abetting, harbouring, and consorting with known Pirate Emperor Red Hair Shanks on multiple accounts spanning years. For this clear defection of the World Government’s rule and repeated alliance with dangerous criminals we can only treat you as a pirate and deem only one punishment is suitable; death.” Over the pelting rain and thunder, Shank’s yell for you was swallowed and you defeatedly hung your head. Your eyes slid closed as you waiting the swinging of the blades, arcing straight for you. 

Shanks woke sharply, a deep pit of ice twisting painfully in his stomach as his heart thundered loudly in his ears. It was so incredibly rare for Shanks to feel powerless or weak, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare and any that came to mind paled in comparison to what he’d just seen. He’d never allow any harm to come to you, in all the years he’d known you and loved you he’d made sure the Marines and any pirate rivals he had knew nothing about you. Glancing down he saw you sleeping peacefully against his chest. Logic told him you were fine, you were safe. He could feel your warmth and feel your soft breath against his skin but still it couldn’t replace the images of your beaten body about to be put to death. 

Knowing it was irrational and stupid, he couldn’t help himself. Lightly he spoke your name and gently shook your shoulder. Immediately you stirred, a hum of sleep thickened confusion breaking from your lips. Shifting so you were on your stomach you blinked through the haze and looked to Shanks in sleepy concern, knowing he’d never wake you unless it was necessary. “Shanks? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry love, really I am.” Shanks explained softly, letting his fingers gently move in soothing patterns against your skin. Seeing you awake and hearing your voice already doing wonders to dispel the hurt his subconsciousness had created. “Had a bad nightmare. Just needed you.”

Immediately your gaze sharpened enough and you nodded in understanding. It wasn’t often but anytime you had a nightmare and Shanks was there he’d wake and be there with you until you’d calmed. Now it was your turn. 

Slowly you pulled yourself up and inched closer. With a feather-light touch you pushed the stray strands of red hair from his face before caressing his jaw. Leaning in you pressed sweet, caring kisses against his face. You started at his eyes, paying close attention to his scars before moving to his temple, then the bridge of his nose, his cheeks before finally settling your lips against Shanks’ pulling him into a deep, tender kiss, clearing the remnants of his nightmare away. Breaking apart you lay your forehead against Shanks’, smiling when he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing your wrist, a clear sign he was becoming more like his usual self. “When the crew and I leave this time, you want to come with me?”

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