#sorry guys I just need to get this off my chest

[rosegolden13]

TF-141's favorite cuddle positions!!

Simon wants you to sleep on top of him. No, you won’t crush him, don’t be ridiculous. He just needs you as close as possible, in contact in as many places as physically manageable. The steady weight of you on his chest doesn’t necessarily help with his constant insomnia but it doesn’t hurt either. At least, he’s awake and comfortable instead of awake and miserable. His heavy arms will press you closer into him, his chin grazing the top of your head as you sleep on his chest. Luckily for you, he’s scarily good at staying still so you’ll sleep soundly even if sleep doesn’t find him nearly as easily.

Soap will 1000% use your tits as a pillow. I’m so sorry but it’s so true and you can’t convince me otherwise. It’s his favorite place to rest his head. He’ll mumble to you sleepily, turning his head deeper into your chest until you can’t even hear him just feeling the vibration of his words against you. If you try to tell him you’re too sore, he’ll whine and get all pouty on you. Honestly, you should just let him because it’s a win-win: you don’t have to listen to his whining and he’ll actually stay still for once while he sleeps so you won’t wake up freezing with the blankets (and likely Soap) on the floor. Honorable mention: he’d also love to rest his head in your lap or your tummy. Do we see a pattern? He likes using you as a pillow.

Gaz is a classic kind of guy. He wants you as his little spoon, tucked into his side as close as he can hold you. Your back is pressed against his chest, ass pressed into his hips, and legs tangled up together. This way his nose can rest in your hair and take in the subtle fragrance of your shampoo. His arm is locked around your stomach, elbow nestled around your hip, large hand splayed over your soft tummy. It’s nearly impossible to get up unless he lets you up- good luck. And he will playfully wrestle you into position so don’t even bother. He could use half his strength and still have you snug against him, no issues.

Price wants you cuddled into his side, using his shoulder as a pillow while his arm rests on the curve of your waist. He always wants you to face him so he can sneak little morning and good night kisses easily, the scruff of his beard rubbing against your cheek. This man gives off an unnatural amount of heat so, he’ll blast the air conditioning in the summer, heedless of the electricity bill, to make sure you’ll still want to snuggle with him. You both sleep better that way anyways. Once he’s settled into a leave, he’ll sleep like a log but if he’s just gotten back from a long deployment, expect him to wake at your slightest movement. Honorable mention: he loves falling asleep with you on his lap in his favorite recliner, probably snoring right in your ear.

Sorry if you're looking for a part 2 to my little drabbles!! I just have no clue where to go with it because I did not plan on expanding it... so take this instead LOL

[gabbytvclarke]

pls could you do one where r doesn’t drink- maybe because of childhood or something else, and is worried what the boys (like the Arthurs, Chris, batch) will think, but George just supports and loves her? comfort and fluff omg 💔

I love this idea, sorry it took so long to come out! ____________________

Party Pooper // George Clarke

• Summary: George and Chris throw a surprise homecoming party for Arthur Hill, but y/n is nervous about being pressured to drink. • Pairing: Boyfriend!George Clarke x female!reader • Angst and fluff • Warnings: crying, trauma, alcohol • Word count: 2,167 words

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

She flicks through Netflix on her boyfriend’s TV, her free hand grips her thigh to stop it from bouncing. Struggling to concentrate on picking a film, her mind races with the thoughts of tomorrow’s party. George and Chris are planning a homecoming party for Arthur Hill, following his recent tour. Naturally, the party is at their shared flat and of course, y/n is invited.

Chris is visiting his family at the moment, planning to return in the evening, so y/n and George have had the place to themselves the past couple of days. Not enough noise to block our her worries. George returns from the bathroom, having seemingly found a couple of packets of balloons on the route back to the sofas. His eyes are furrowed as he counts how many are in each bag, ensuring the amounts match the numbers listed on the front.

“Still not decided on a movie yet?” He asks casually as he briefly glances to the TV.

“Hm? Oh, no not yet.” Y/n replies quietly, gazing towards the floor.

“I know I’ve asked this already this morning, but are you sure you’re OK? You don’t seem your usual self.” He asks, dropping the packets on the table and taking a seat next to his girlfriend. They haven’t been together long, 3 months officially since meeting on Hinge a month prior. Already he knows her too well.

“I’m OK, just a little nervous about tomorrow…” She mumbles.

“Nervous? You’ll be fantastic, the guys adore you. And don’t worry about helping me decorate, Chris will be here.” He rubs her leg gently with his hand, his eyes glued to her face as she continues glancing ahead. “I can send an Uber closer to the time if you’d rather spend more time relaxing and getting ready.”

But y/n knows she won’t be relaxing, she’d rather be there to help get the place ready to distract her if anything. Actually, she'd not go if she could, despite wanting to. “You won’t be driving so you don’t need worry about drinking either.” He adds.

Just the word sends shivers down her spine. She feels awful, she loves his friends too, but she ran out of excuses to not drink ages ago.

“Y/n?” George asks, his voice laced with concern. She doesn’t want to talk about it, but she doesn’t want to worry him by avoiding the topic either. She puts her hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze and paints a smile on her lips.

“Sounds good, now what shall we watch?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can, picking the remote back up and pointing it towards the TV.

“Oh no you don’t,” George states with a small smile, reaching over and taking it off her. He switches the TV off and turns more to face her, taking her hand in his. “Something’s been bothering you recently, what’s wrong darling?” He asks, tilting his head down but looking up at her through his eyebrows. She’s struggling to find her words as she gets lost in his beautiful but worried eyes.

“It’s nothing, I’m all good.” She dismisses. She wants to tell him, but he’s so excited for tomorrow and she doesn’t want to bum him out.

“Look at me baby.” He reaches over and takes her other hand, his thumbs gently brush over her knuckles. “Please, just tell me.”

She feels her chest begin to tighten, her eyes sting. “I… I need the toilet.” She stands to her feet suddenly and awkwardly heads toward the bathroom.

“Do you not like my friends?” George calls out abruptly, a hint of sadness in his tone. She stops in her tracks. “Because if you don't, you really should tell me.” His voice softens. She turns to him and her heart sinks at his anxious expression. “They’re good people.” He adds.

“It’s not that at all.” She states.

“You’ve been avoiding hanging out with them for a while now, I can't help but worry.” He says, watching her face. Her eyes begin to water, the dam breaking.

George’s eyes go wide, he rushes to his feet and approaches her softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to-“

“You didn’t… you didn’t do anything. It’s me.” She speaks slowly, wiping her tears. George’s breathing shallows, thinking the worst. Thinking this is their relationship over, or something to that effect.

“Did something happen?” He asks, trying to keep his voice calm, but his eyes scream his real thoughts. He reaches his arms out and she accepts, stepping into his warm embrace. She sighs as she lets the tension in her body fade.

“It’s the drinking.” She states, the most coherent and yet painful sentence she’s been able to utter all morning.

His shoulders relax a little, but he’s still confused. “The drinking?” He leans back and looks at her again, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“Yeah.” She murmurs. His hand slides down and takes hers as he leads her back to the sofa. They sit down together as her sobs die down a little. “I’m not comfortable with drinking alcohol. It sounds ridiculous, but I went through a lot as a kid.”

Still holding George’s hand, y/n retells the traumas of her childhood, all of her bad memories linked directly to alcoholism. George listens and nods along. It all makes sense now; their dates never involved alcohol and if they did, y/n was the designated driver. Or she had an 'early start' the next day, or simply nominated herself to be the sober friend of the night.

What he hears hurts him but right now, he knows that she needs him to be strong. She cries harder once she's done explaining, as George pulls her into a hug, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “There, there.” He whispers as his eyes well up. They remain hugging for a couple more minutes as they both calm themselves.

When y/n pulls away, she sees George’s red eyes, making the blue stand out more. “Oh George, this is why I didn’t want to say anything.” She coos, brushing her hand over his cheek.

He leans his head into her palm and presses a small kiss into it. He lets out a defeated sigh, a faint smile on his lips. “Don’t be daft, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.” He whispers. They both head to the bathroom to wipe their faces down.

His bloodshot eyes gaze at her through the mirror. “If you don’t want to come over tomorrow, I’d understand. I can make up an excuse for you.”

“I want to be there, that’s why I’m so frustrated with myself.” She replies calmly. “And I don’t even mind if everyone else drinks, I just don’t want to be a party pooper by being the only one not drinking ”

George chuckles as he hugs her from behind, still looking at her in the reflection. “The only way you can poop on this party, is by not being there, and by not being your amazing self.” He kisses her cheek.

“Noted.” She giggles as she takes his hand and they head back out to the lounge area.

She’s back scrolling through Netflix again, the fog in her mind clearer and a weight off her shoulders. “Are you OK now darling?” George asks, carrying a blanket and snacks over.

“I really am, thank you, and of course I’ll help you decorate by the way. You boys will do a terrible job without me!” George chuckles and tickles her side.

———

The next day, she hears George’s cheerful rhythmic knock on her door. His jaw drops when she opens it. She looks gorgeous. “Wowee!” He shouts as he twirls her and gives her a tight hug, making her giggle. “Ready?”

They get in the Uber together. “How are you feeling?” He asks her quietly. She gives him a playful smile. “I promise I won’t keep asking.” He adds.

“I’m excited, but a little nervous still. Nothing compared to how I felt before though.” She smiles at him genuinely this time as she answers. George nods, relieved.

The decorating takes no time at all. It would’ve been even faster if y/n didn’t have to keep rehanging things that Chris shoddily puts up. More people begin to show up, bringing drinks and snacks, and helping the three lay them out for the party.

As people mingle and wait for Arthur’s return, George shows y/n that the top shelf in the fridge is full of her favourite still drink. She gives him a peck on the lips to thank him. “I still don’t know what to tell them though.” She whispers in his ear.

“If they offer you a beverage, a ‘no thank you’ should suffice.” He smiles back, stroking her cheek. “And if anyone persists, come get me.”

———

“SURPRISE!” They all yell as Arthur drags his suitcase through the door. He is a little taken aback, his grin wide.

“Ah! Thank you!” He yells awkwardly, his reaction a little underwhelmed.

“Did you know we were here?” Isaac asks, a party blower hanging out his mouth.

“A bit,” Hill sheepishly replies, “Arthur said something about it yesterday.” He gestures to Arthur TV, who’s donning a guilty smile. Chris starts telling him off as he puts his hands up to surrender.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out!” Arthur TV pleads.

The party is a hit. With George being the social butterfly and fluttering between the guests, y/n sits more comfortably with the girls. Liv makes herself a cocktail. “Do you want one y/n?” She offers kindly.

“Oh, no thanks, I’ve still got mine!” Y/n replies, holding up her non-alcoholic drink. Sabine take a sip of her freshly made 'Liv special' cocktail.

“You’ve been drinking those all night, you sure you don’t want to mix it up?” She asks, holding her glass out closer for y/n to smell the drink.

“No really, I’m fine. These are my favourites.” Y/n replies sweetly.

George, Isaac, and Chip join them, having missed their girls already.

“Having fun?” George whispers in her ear, his voice a little off from his drinking.

“I really am, thank you baby.” She giggles back, keeping him steady.

“Sorry, you probably don’t want my beer breath in your face.” He mutters with a guilty grin. Y/n waves his worries away.

“You smell great George.” She replies with a smile, before pecking his lips. He’s then called over by Danny to take shots.

“Duty calls!” George smirks, he rushes off to their table. Y/n decides to make herself useful, acting as a photographer and taking pics and videos on her phone.

Arthur Hill slides in next to her while she scrolls through her photos. “Thanks for this y/n.” He says with a smile, resting his elbow on her shoulder.

“It was George who arranged it, Chris and I just helped decorate the place.” Arthur looks around at the stringers, banners, and balloons while she replies sweetly.

“Yeah but, this is all you.” He protests, gesturing at the decorations. He gives her a hug. “Thank you. Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve hung out.” He murmurs against her cheek.

“Oi! Hands off!” George shouts with a smirk, pointing his finger at the pair and making them cackle.

———

Y/n fetches another one of her still drinks from the fridge. She’s hoping that keeping one on her at all times will stop her from being offered anything else. The plan was working, until she sees the table.

“Beer pong!” Chip roars with his fist in the air. Some of the boys gather around him, while George is across the room chatting to Harry. Picking up a ping pong ball, Chip peers over at y/n. “Ladies first.” He says with a sneer, handing the ball out towards her.

“Oh, no thank you!” She replies, raising her own drink and taking a sip.

“Aw come on y/n! A beer won’t hurt!” Chip whines. Y/n declines further, her cheeks heating up, but the other boys join in with begging her too.

George, having heard his girlfriend’s name from across the room, casually joins the table.

“Clarkey, tell y/n to man up and join in!” Chip whinges, the Arthurs and Isaac nodding in agreement. George puts his arm around y/n’s shoulder.

“Oh, she won’t be playing,” George states nonchalantly, “y/n doesn’t drink, but I'll take her place.” Her breathing hitches for a moment, she looks at the boys’ expressions and awaits further complaints. She waits for them to say the party’s ruined, that she's spoiling it for everyone else. But they don’t.

“Fair enough, sorry about that y/n.” Chip replies with friendly grin, shrugging and passing the ball to George instead. The boys begin their game as if nothing happened. He turns to y/n and winks at her.

“What just happened?” She asks him with a confused smile.

“I told you, they’re good people. Love you.” He beams, kissing her cheek before bouncing the ball across the table.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

A/n: Thank you anon for the request, this was my first angst piece. I hope I did your prompt justice ♥ - Gabby xo

[hypnzo]

Hi!! Could I request a Percy Jackson x reader where they’re battling some big bad villain and somehow reader is hypnotised into working against Percy?

And they’re battling it out he’s trying to not hurt her and it’s so cute maybe she could be a daughter if Demeter (but have actual powers Demeter kids got nuked hard!)

(She’s actually really badass tho kinda like poison ivy from dc)

Anyway! I love your fics thanks for taking your time to read my request x

Hit me where it hurts

Percy Jackson x Child of Demeter!Reader

Warning !! English is not my first language, there might also be possible mischaracterization.

The moment you and Percy were finally able to locate the very important thing needed in order to complete the mission, you felt the feeling of relief and triumph wash over the two of you in a haze.

However, without meaning to, that triumph soon blinded the two of you as you both failed to notice the lurking monster nearby.

“Sweet,” Percy whistled, his tone sighed with relief, “and it's still in good condition!” he pointed out as you both walked closer.

“Finally,” you groaned, feeling more tired than you usually would be. “Man, this mission took such a toll on me.”

“At least we're finally done with it.” he said, his voice tinged with optimism, but just when you were about to grab the item, you felt your body froze.

Suddenly, you heard a strange growl that seemed to echo around the place. You decided to ready your weapon, however it seems like Percy didn't hear the noise. It felt weird.

“Uh? Petal, are you good?” Percy said, looking a little dumb-founded towards your reaction. If he had to guess, it looked as if you were hesitating on something.

Percy, confused, looked at the item. ...It looked fine which made him more perplexed with your actions.

Curiously, Percy decided to grab the item instead, but just when his hand was inches away from the item, he was stopped by the vines that suddenly wrapped around his wrists.

“What–” Percy's brows furrowed, feeling his sudden irritation and confusion start to bubble even more into the surface.

Without a word, you suddenly lunged your weapon near his chest, making it obvious that you were meaning to kill him.

“Wh– Hey, woah, woah, woah!” Percy stumbled though he managed to block your attack in time. However the vines were getting annoying, especially with the way it was growing as if it was slowly paralyzing his movements.

Without much thinking, Percy tightened his grip on his sword—Riptide—bracing himself as he cut off the vines that extended to his forearms within minutes.

He was free at last, but he suddenly heard a loud hiss of pain. He averted his attention towards his side immediately only for him to realize that he accidentally scarred you.

“Oh– My gods! I'm so sorry, hey, are you oka–” he panicked, feeling his his guilt arising. All of a sudden, he felt as if the ground was trying to swallow him, along with more plants starting to lunge in on him in an attempt to injure him further from fighting.

“What's with these plants?!” he murmured in frustration. He was handling the plants left and right, and if he was being honest, he had no idea that plants could even be that aggressive.

Suddenly, in the brink of the battle, he felt the ground shake. Not knowing what was happening due to the place being quite dark, he blindly decided to keep moving.

“Petal? Petal! Hey, where are you?”

He heard no whispers—not even a soft murmur of your voice.

“Petal–” his voice got sliced through the loud thud which made him pause in surprise.

Looking to his left, he felt himself dumb-founded when he saw the gigantic tree fall over, which he was sure is impossible to even happen.

“What the...” though distracted, he felt someone sneaking up behind him—without hesitation, he knocked them up immediately with his elbow, making the person wince.

“Shit.” you murmured, feeling your nose bleed. What was it with this Percy guy?

“Petal?!”

“Stop calling me that, will you?” your voice lingered with annoyance as you made one step further, almost tripping Percy off of his balance.

“Snap out of it!” Percy exclaimed, his hold on his weapon tightened even further, however... It was a little too tight as if he was hesitating to lift it up against you.

“What? You can't raise your weapon against me, coward?”

Not bothering to hear out his words, you clinked your sword against his, making him fall slightly on his feet.

Taking every mistake to your advantage, you commanded the plants all around the two of you to distract him whilst the others made their way to tangle up Percy's legs from battling you any further.

He stumbled against his own foot, barely managing to draw his sword against yours before you could even forcefully drive it into his chest.

“Calm down..!” He struggled, trying to fight out the force of your weapon without accidentally hurting you in any way.

His whole figure was pinned to ground—the clinking of celestial bronze was heard nearby among the dead plants scattered on the ground.

Percy managed to elbow you with enough force to distract you for a few seconds where he had to make his moves.

“Sorry!” he apologized, though the vines were slowly growing up his legs, temporarily paralyzing his movements from below.

With all the effort he could muster up, his hold met his sword once more, its sharp blade cutting off the vines off of his legs, freeing him away from the paralyze.

Averting his focus back onto you, his sword managed to catch yours before you could even stab a wound near his arm.

His usual fluid flick on the Riptide faltered completely as his fighting became quite stiff almost as if he was purposely trying to hit the corners of your side in order to avoid injuring you.

If he was being honest, if this wasn't a life or death situation with you currently, he'd be laughing in embarrassment with how much he was "failing" to land a hit on you.

As the fight went on, Percy tried to distract you for as much as he could without letting himself die and without accidentally scarring you.

However, the moment you managed to get your sword to clash against his near his throat, you wasted no time to press his weapon against him.

Percy blinked—mentally rubbing his eyes when he looked back once more on your eyes...

Your eyes changed color.

Percy, having no other choices left, he needed to screw you off balance to let himself breathe, however he still needed to maintain you injure and scar free.

You heard him murmur an apology and you felt him step on your foot—its crushing sensation made you wince and you lost your balance for a few seconds.

His vision scanned through every possible solution he could think of to break off whatever hypnosis you've fallen under, that was until he decided to make a bold choice.

Your eyes lurked for his shadow to make an appearance—when suddenly you felt the tip of a blade tap you on the shoulders lightly.

“Over here, Petal.”

Your eyes immediately followed where the voice came from. Cautiously, you made your move, letting the plants help you tug on his ankles to stumble out his movements.

“Hey!” he waved from behind the item to be retrieved. “Over here!” He moved with precision, circling around the item as if he was trying to get you off of your balance once more.

Out of the blue, the familiar, strange, and monstrous voice roared from your body as if it was trying to control your senses next.

It was difficult trying to battle out the monster that had decided to occupy your body to use it against the two of you, especially since you've already ended up with a few wounds across your body from your fight with Percy.

Your own thoughts suddenly got louder the more the item cracked—with one last miscalculated attack, you accidentally hit the artifact, breaking it into dust.

“Petal!” you heard Percy's voice ring through your ears before you almost lost consciousness.

Blinking weakly, you saw him rush beside you as he guided you to sit on the ground before you could even fall on your knees.

“Percy,” you murmured weakly, feeling the hypnosis suck out a large amount of energy out of you, “Sorry.”

You felt his thumb brush across your cheek, smiling softly at your exhausted state—though you expected him to be angrier with you.

“You're not mad?”

“Nonsense.” he presses a kiss on your temple before lightly pinching your cheek. “How could I ever be?”

“Are you feeling alright now?” Percy asks while he assisted you on your feet after you accidentally fell to the ground, which almost knocked your face earlier.

“Yeah.. Thanks.”

“You could give me a kiss,” he says, looking away as if he was feigning sarcasm, “just a suggestion, of course.”

“You're sure a dork, honestly.”

“...So, yes?”

You rolled your eyes though you leaned in against his lips, feeling his lips brush against yours slowly as you felt him smile through the kiss.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

Note: (Thank you so much! Honestly, I really love your request! The moment I read it I immediately thought it was so cool! Thanks for taking the time to make a request!!)

Have a request? Feel free to send one in!

[thoughtdaughtersworld]

Silent Lullabies Pt 3.

Azriel X f!reader

Summary: Y/n and Azriel's relationship is filled with tension and unspoken feelings, leaving both of them struggling to confront the distance growing between them.

TW!!: emotional turmoil, angst, drinking!!

Sorry that this took long, school has been beating my a**.

Authors Note: It's gonna go downhill from here and she's going to be really struggling like emotionally and physically before she starts healing. I hope you guys enjoy!!

*******************************************************Mor and Feyre had spent the past few days gently coaxing you out of bed, urging you to get some fresh air, to take even the smallest step forward. Today, for the first time, you gave in. Not for them, but because you could admit, if only to yourself, that the walls of your room had begun to close in on you, making you feel suffocated.

The crisp air greets you as you step into the garden, filling your lungs with something that almost feels like relief. Almost. The sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the ground, but the warmth barely touches you.

Mor and Feyre walk beside you, their voices light and hopeful as they try to pull you into conversation.They talk about everything and nothing, weaving words in the air between you, trying to anchor you back to the present. But it was like listening through water.. muffled and  distant. You nod at the right moments, but you don’t really hear them. Your mind drifts, weightless and detached.

“Have either of you seen Azriel?”

The words slipped from your lips before you even realized you’d spoken them, your voice breaking the rhythm of their conversation. It was the first thing you’d said to them all day, and it caught them off guard. Their exchange of glances was subtle, but not subtle enough.

Feyre was the first to respond. “He’s attending to some court matters right now,��� she said carefully, her tone soft but uncertain. “But he’ll be back soon.”

The hesitation in her voice wasn’t lost on you. The words hung in the air, heavy and unsatisfying. They didn’t sound like the truth. Not entirely. And the bitterness it left in your mouth was indescribable.

Your chest tightened, frustration mingling with the ache already there. “I’ll be going back to my room,” you said abruptly, your voice strained. The pity in their glances, the gentle coddling,it was unbearable. Every attempt they made to help only seemed to remind you of how broken you felt.

You make your way inside, the walls of the house pressing in on you as the weight in your chest grows heavier. You don’t think, you just move, your feet carrying you toward Rhys’s extensive wine collection. You knew this was the last thing you needed, but at this moment, reason didn’t matter. You needed an escape, even if only for a little while.

The room is silent, the dim glow of candlelight casting long shadows against the walls. The air is thick with the scent of aged oak and spiced wine as you step closer to the towering shelf where the bottles are kept. Your fingers tremble as you reach out, the cool glass smooth beneath your touch. The bottle is heavy in your grasp, and as you tilt it slightly, the quiet slosh of liquid inside fills the space, sending a shiver down your spine.

A lump rises in your throat. The sound should bring you comfort, should promise relief. But instead, it fills you with dread.

Still, you don’t put it back. You can’t.

You carry the bottle to your room, each step heavy as if the weight of the moment is pressing down on your chest. Once inside, you sit down against your bed, the cool bottle in your hand a fleeting comfort. The first sip is sharp, bitter, but you don’t care. It’s something, a fleeting numbness to give your mind a break.

Time seems to slip away from you as you drink, each sip taking you further from the reality of your grief and you find yourself lying on the floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The same ceiling that had been your quiet companion over the last few days, offering no answers, only silence. 

The pain doesn’t go away, but it dulls, just enough to allow you a breath, a fleeting moment of rest. You know, deep down, that Azriel would be heartbroken if he found you like this. He would want to fix it, to ease your sorrow, but you couldn’t bear to face him like this. Not when you felt so broken.

But tonight, thankfully, he didn't come. The silence of the room, the emptiness of the space, is almost a relief in some strange way. You’re alone with your grief, your sadness, the hollow ache in your chest.en.

And so you let the tears come, hot and raw, pouring down your face as you grieve. Grief for the son you lost, for the future that would never be. 

*******************************************************Azriel had been racking his mind for days, throwing himself into work to avoid the crushing weight of his failure. If he couldn't ease your pain, if he couldn't reach you, then at the very least, he could do this. He could hunt down the ones responsible and make them suffer. He owed you that much.

His spies had been working relentlessly under his command, tracking down every lead, every whisper in the shadows. He hadn't given himself a moment of rest, hadn’t stopped for even a second, not until he was sure that everyone involved in the attack would feel the same agony that had rooted itself deep in his chest. His training had become more brutal, more punishing so much that even Cassian and Rhys had started to worry. But none of that mattered. Pain was a welcome distraction.

He sat in his office now, his fingers pressed against his temples, exhaustion threatening to consume him. His shadows swirled around him, whispering fragments of information. The others lingered outside your door, unwilling to leave you alone for even a moment. They had been watching over you constantly, silent guardians in the absence of the one who should have been at your side.

A knock at the door broke through his thoughts. Rhys and Cassian stepped inside, their expressions grim.

“We found some of them,” Rhys said, his voice measured but tight with unspoken fury. He, too, had been searching. He knew Azriel needed this, and he had sworn to do whatever it took to help his brother find justice or at the very least, vengeance.

Azriel lifted his gaze, the dark circles under his eyes making the icy intensity of them even more striking. “How many?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“We got two,” Rhys admitted. “But they refuse to give up their leader.”

Azriel stood, his grip tightening around Truth-Teller, the blade he had taken from you in fear that you might turn it on yourself. His shadows pulsed around him, eager for violence.

“Leave them to me,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He strode toward the door, but Cassian stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“What do you plan to do, Az?” Cassian asked, his tone cautious but firm.

Azriel’s patience was thin. His nerves were frayed, his restraint all but gone. He met Cassian’s gaze with a cold, unyielding stare. “Whatever it takes.”

Before either of them could stop him, Azriel winnowed straight to the dungeon

The moment he entered, the stench of sweat, blood, and despair clung to him like a second skin. The air was thick with fear, the kind that seeped into the bones and settled there. It was familiar. He welcomed it.

Azriel stepped into the first cell, silent as death itself. The prisoner hadn't noticed him yet, too lost in his own misery to sense the shadows curling around the room, dimming the already faint torchlight.

The man was slumped against the wall, shackles biting into his wrists, his breathing ragged. He hadn’t noticed Azriel yet, not until the door creaked shut behind him. The sound made the man jolt, his head snapping up, his eyes darting frantically around the cell.

Azriel didn’t speak at first. He simply stood in the darkness, letting the silence stretch, letting the man feel the weight of his presence. Fear was a weapon, and Azriel wielded it with deadly precision.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward, into the dim light. His face was expressionless, his Siphons glowing faintly, his wings casting monstrous shadows against the walls.

Slowly, Azriel emerged from the shadows, Truth-Teller glinting in his hand.

The man looked up, and froze.

Azriel tilted his head, his voice quiet, almost gentle.

“Shall we begin?”

*******************************************************You wake up to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains, your head pounding slightly from last night’s activity. Blinking, you shift under the covers and freeze when you see Azriel sitting in the chair across from your bed.

Your heart stutters, a wave of relief washing over you before something sharper cuts through it..uncertainty. You’re thankful you had the sense to shove the empty bottle under your bed before falling asleep. He hadn’t been visiting as much lately, and now that he was here, you couldn’t help the selfish thought that slithered into your mind. Had he found someone else to be there for him? Someone who could give him what you couldn’t?

The idea alone makes your stomach twist, your heart drop.

You stare at him, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. He just watches you, his face unreadable, his hazel eyes dark with something you can’t quite place.

Your gaze drifts over him, his unkempt hair, the deep shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He looked exhausted. You swallow past the lump in your throat, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “You look like hell.”

Azriel huffs a breath, something like a laugh, but not quite. “So do you.”

A shadow of a smile ghosts your face. Azriel watches you, his gaze unwavering, searching. He always had this way of looking at you, like he saw too much, like he could peel back every layer until there was nothing left to hide. It used to bring you comfort. Now, it only makes you feel exposed.

You force yourself to hold his stare. “Where were you?”

He hesitates. Just for a second. But it’s enough.

“Court handlings,” he finally says, voice careful, measured.

A lie.

You know it immediately, the way his eyes flicker, the way his fingers tighten slightly against his thigh. The realization sends a sharp sting through your chest.

Why was he lying?

Your mind spirals before you can stop it. Had he truly  found someone else? 

You nod slowly, forcing yourself to swallow the bitterness rising in your throat. “Right.”

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.

Then you turn away, shifting beneath the covers. “I’m going back to bed.”

Something flashes across his face, hurt, maybe, or frustration. He doesn’t answer.

Azriel steps forward, but you pull back, suddenly exhausted. “Just go,” you murmur, rubbing a hand over your face. “If you won’t tell me the truth, then just… go.”

For a moment, you think he might fight it. That he might stay. But then his shadows shift, and without another word, he’s gone.

And for the first time since Azriel walked into your room, you wish he hadn’t come at all.

*******************************************************You step into the library and finally exhale, the weight on your chest easing just enough to let you breathe. This place had always been your refuge, long before Azriel..before everything. Here, the silence wasn’t suffocating; it was soothing. The books, the worn scent of parchment and ink, the soft glow of the faelights, it all wrapped around you like an old friend, welcoming you home.

It was the first time you had ventured out in a while, and yet, you hadn’t been able to ask Azriel or anyone else for help. You couldn’t bear the pity in their eyes, the lingering stares, the questions no one dared to ask but that burned in the air between you. 

The tension with Azriel had become unbearable. He was always away on missions, always finding something to occupy himself while you remained here stuck, drowning in grief that everyone else seemed to have moved past. The only thing that stayed, the only thing that didn’t judge you, were the bottles hidden beneath your bed.

"Get it together," you whisper to yourself, trying to push away the lump that was threatening to rise in your throat. But it was hard, everything felt so raw.

You make your way to the front desk, and the moment Clotho sees you, she moves with quiet urgency, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. That meant she had heard.

You freeze for just a second before slowly relaxing into the embrace. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at your lips. Clotho,like every priestess in this library was wary of physical touch. They had all endured horrors that made something as simple as a hug feel foreign, even unsafe. And yet, Clotho had always welcomed you, always made you feel like you belonged.

She had been the first to open her arms to you when your family had let you go.

You let yourself sink into the warmth of it, the quiet comfort. Just for a moment.

"I'm fine," you murmur as you pull back, but Clotho only gives you a stern look, the kind that says you don’t have to lie to her, that she knows the truth even if you don’t say it.

She cups your cheeks gently, her touch light but grounding, then presses a soft kiss to your forehead, just like she always did when you were younger. The simple gesture undoes something inside you, and you swallow hard against the sting behind your eyes.

Clotho doesn’t let go of you just yet. Instead, she gently takes your hand and guides you toward a stack of books waiting to be shelved. There’s no explanation, no request, just quiet understanding.

This is what you used to do when you were younger. Back then, when your mind felt too heavy, when the weight of the world pressed down on your chest, Clotho would set you to work organizing the shelves. It helped then. She must have known it would help now, too.

You take the books without a word and begin placing them where they belong, running your fingers over the spines, breathing in the scent of parchment and ink. Slowly, steadily, your thoughts stop spiraling. Your mind quiets. The task grounding you in a way nothing else has in weeks.

By the time you place the last book on the shelf, you realize how much time has passed. The library’s fae lights are dimmer now, the soft glow of evening settling in. It’s dinnertime,so with a soft goodbye, you promise Clotho that you’ll return soon. She doesn’t press, only pats your hand before you step out of the library and into the cool evening time.

The walk to the House of Wind is longer than you remember. Or maybe it just feels that way because of the weight pressing against your ribs.

When you step inside, the warmth of the house greets you, along with the scent of freshly cooked food. And the first person you see is Elain.

You and Elain had never really been close. It wasn’t animosity, it was more of an unspoken unease. Her ability, the things she knew without ever saying, made you feel exposed in a way you weren’t ready to confront.

She’s standing near the staircase, her soft, golden-brown hair catching the light from the chandeliers.She smiles warmly when she spots you, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “You’re just in time for dinner,” she says, her voice gentle.

You try to return her smile, though it feels strained. “I’m just going to change,” you murmur, not quite meeting her gaze.

You make your way to your room and slowly change into something more comfortable.This would be the first time in weeks that you were eating with everyone instead of taking your meals in solitude. The thought makes your stomach twist with unease, but you remind yourself that this was a step, one you had to take if you ever wanted to feel like yourself again.

As you slip into your clothes, your gaze catches on the mirror. For a moment, you hesitate, but then you force yourself to look.

The reflection staring back at you feels like a stranger. Your eyes, once bright and full of life, now seemed hollow, empty. Dark circles cling stubbornly beneath them, the proof of many sleepless nights. Your skin looked pale, your shoulders slouched under the weight of invisible burdens.

Your hand moves instinctively to your stomach, and the moment your fingers graze it, you flinch. The touch sends a wave of emotions crashing over you..grief, shame, self-consciousness all swirling into a tight knot in your chest.

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the wave of emotions back down before they can consume you. Not now. Not tonight.

Instead, you take a slow, deliberate breath and drop your hand, straightening your posture. You smooth out the fabric of your shirt, forcing yourself to focus on the present, on the simple act of walking out that door and sitting at the table with the others.

You make your way into the dining room, and immediately, the quiet buzz of conversation dies down. The inner circle is seated around the table—Feyre, Rhys,Nesta, Mor, Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Varian and Azriel, his presence heavy in the air. They all seem surprised to see you, but your eyes stay locked on Azriel. He hasn’t come to see you, hasn’t spoken to you since… since everything started falling apart. And that silence between you is suffocating. It feels like the room is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen, waiting for you to move, to say something.

Feyre’s voice breaks the tension. “Y/n?” It’s soft, but you can hear the underlying nerves. Her gaze flickered between you and Azriel, but no one knew how to approach the subject. The weight of their concern pressed on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, to even look at him.

You sit down, your heart heavy in your chest. You’re seated in front of Azriel, but your eyes are firmly fixed on the table, unwilling to meet his gaze. Cassian nudges you lightly with a grin, trying to ease the tension, and you offer him a small, strained smile. It’s the best you can do. You hate how distant you’ve become, how cold you feel even with them all around. You just don’t know how to fix it, how to get past this wall that’s built itself between you and everyone else.

The food appears on the table, but you can barely bring yourself to care. The hunger in your stomach is drowned out, and you struggle to find any appeal in the meal before you. You can feel the ache in your bones, the emptiness pulling you under, and the thought of drinking, of losing yourself in something that would numb the pain, rises to the surface. It’s getting harder to fight it. You don’t want to fall back into old habits, but everything feels so overwhelming.

“I have an announcement to make,” Feyre suddenly stands, her voice trembling with excitement and a hint of nervousness. You glance at Rhys, his face full of pride and warmth, and you know this is something they’ve been waiting for, something important. You brace yourself, though, not knowing what kind of announcement could break the tension in the air.

“I’m pregnant.”

[legstheoctomobster]

Where do dads get this audacity from??? /rhe

[all-too-unwell-13]

what is it with teenage boys and acting like you're their favourite person one day, then disappearing the next?

[invinciblerodent]

an entirely expected side effect of me whipping out my old external HDD is that now I AM going to rewatch basically the entirety of my canon game of Inquisition that I had mostly recorded back in like '15-'16, and get my heart torn right out again by this damn guy making this damn face

he deadass goes "😢" doesn't he

[fyodior]

.

[savemebeel]

Sorry for the lack of edits recently, I’ve been trying my best to keep up with it all but I’ll be honest it’s a little difficult doing that since I’ve been sick for this past week. Not only that but I recently changed jobs so now my schedule is a bit different than what I had before.

I’m still keeping up with editing the latest cards but I’m still behind on finishing some memory cards from the last 2-3 events which I apologize for. I’m hoping to get over my fever so I can get the energy to edit and upload those cards for you guys. I appreciate you guys being patient with me while I recover.

Also I’d like to be fully transparent about this as well but I feel like I’m losing that motivation to edit as a whole. Before I say anything else I wanna make sure y’all know that I’m not quitting on editing any time soon, but I would be lying if I said I don’t enjoy doing it like I did before. Editing now has turned more into a chore than it does as a hobby. Maybe it was when I lost my first blog or it was the lack of engagement but I do not enjoy editing like before. I feel bad saying this since I know to those who’ve stuck around me do like my edits…idk I just feel stumped on what to do or how I’ll move forward with this. For now I’ll be editing at my own pace and give myself small breaks in between so I can finish edits at my own time.

[picture-me-in-the-trees]

“she’s the reason i work so hard. just wanted to make her proud. she doesn’t even care if im any good. just wants me to be happy. be a good lad. once i got good though, my old man started showing up, didn’t he? you know, bragging to all his mates every time i scored a goal. calling me soft if i didn’t dominate, you know and i hated that. i actually fucking hated that. so i made a vow to be so tough that he could never call me soft again. i wonder if sometimes i forget about making her proud. i dont think that she would be lately.”

jamie’s motivation comes from his mom. she’s the reason he got into football, the reason he wanted to play, the very reason he tried so hard in the first place. his dad didn’t decide to come back into his life until after he started getting good so he could profit off of jamie’s success. and even though he came in and twisted jamie’s goals to meet his own, that doesn’t change jamie’s core motivation as a player and as a person. everything he did was for his mom and i think ted lasso, a show about unconditional love and support and how that literally shapes people should have focused more on how unconditional love and support motivates people even when they stray from that instead of saying that everything jamie did was “because fuck him” yk? idk im just rambling here i just think its so crucial to jamie’s character to remember that he is so successful and dedicated to the sport in the first place because of his mom. yes, some part of him may be fueled by spite and yes, he could just be super overwhelmed with having to face his dad again in a higher stakes match without having talked to him since their last match against manchester city but idk it feels like there was definitely a better way to incorporate these issues into jamie’s character and the little arc they had for this episode that doesn’t throw off what they initially set up than how they did it in the show.

[pardonmydelays]

unpopular opinion but i really miss those days when it was all about the music in taylor swift fandom

[narwhalandchill]

its been like. nearly a year (How.) already but i cannot lie theres Still a part in the back of my brain occupied with and being thoroughly entertained by the way that childes confirmed 4.0 complete self-awareness over waking up the narwhal at 14 recontextualizes some key liyue things leading to some very funny self indulgent scenarios in my head

like yes chili is old news its basic please excuse me for predictable popular ship crimes (do NOT however associate me w the crimes of fanon against their actual range. theyre peak to Me) but i just keep replaying the imagery of zhongli and childe back on their homoerotic Professional Working Relationship bullshit where their flirting passed the jkjk unless treshold of even remotely plausible deniability like 8 exorbitantly priced business dinners ago and theyre just like. doing that whole song and dance now neither committing to a move except zhonglis presently feeling moderately conflicted (but nonetheless fairly unfazed at) by the prospects of actually developing some sort of a thing for the harbinger hes supposed to puppet master into executing the major story climax of his 67-step retirement plan bc he turned out to be quite the strangely charming ginger specimen (to His weird fucking 6000 year old tastes at least. they deserve each other) with some fascinating life ambitions he cant help but be enraptured by.

but because hes still 100% Locked In on his entire plan zhonglis also just . simultaneously dual wielding his coy-ass "i like you and am taking it slow to Savor this developing relationship (Also bc of the Geo Archon Shaped Elephant In The Room) except am old as shit so my languid sense of time inadvertedly Automatically turns my behavior into an equivalent of the dark souls boss of playing hard2get" act (cue "waddup im ajax 24 and im in fucking agony with this hot funeral consultant". Yes they live like this) AND also meticulously theorycrafting like 12 moves in advance for his 6d chess play of leaving the most subtly crafted trail of breadcrumbs behind for the tsaritsas 11th to follow into the intended & completely "Coincidental" idea of unleashing the one particular sealed sea deity that zhongli Specifically wants momentarily released for his sweet 6k retirement party and graduation test for the nation hes helicopter parented for 3.7k years .

like. this is zhongli we r talking about the guy Absolutely has it planned out down to a fucking art like he has an entire branching path dialogue tree planned and memorized like its a visual novel for every possible way he can conveniently namedrop osial in a non-suspect way and also that he just happens to be sealed right over there across the harbor (what a coincidence!) and also to slip in the intel about the latent power of the sigil of permission etc etc. like zhonglis just out there doing all this massive galaxy brain computational work simultaneously while infodumping on an academic level about whichever subject childes latest random comment of amicable small talk happened to remind him of because in his helicopter parent in remission mind its Absolutely Critical that the idea about releasing osial occurs Completely organically in childes mind it Has to he Cannot risk revealing anything . (hes in remission not in recovery guys.) so like here we are. he requested notes from the tsaritsa Personally on the character of her 11th just to ensure every move was painstakingly crafted to draw him Specifically to the intended conclusion without risking revealing his true identity .

except. the thing . neither he. nor the tsaritsa . would have been informed of . is that this simply isnt childes first fucking rodeo waking up an eldritch city sized sea creature . and he is very well aware of this fact . he woke that beautiful wonderful beloved huge fucking narwhal up by himself had his brain chemistry Immediately and Irrevocably rewired as a direct consequence do you fucking think hes somehow stopped thinking about that singular moment for even a second since then???

yeah . thought so.

so what actually ends up happening in reality is theyll be on another definitely-serious-business-not-just-a-date and zhonglis going to get down to like dialogue selection part 10 of the 86 step conversation tree at Most where hes only beginning to like Vaguely allude to the key pieces of information involved but it turns out Because Hes That Guy (TM) And Has Been There Done That Before childes basic pattern recognition and sense of irony simply proceed to kick in Way ahead of time and hes Immediately perking up like Hey wouldnt it be really fucking funny if i wake up an eldritch sea beast Again . like just in case. as a last ditch effort .

and zhonglis just sitting there seeing the gears turn in his head as they enjoy their cringe fucking picnic (bc they just stare at each other intently like that nowadays its a thing. being in a room with them by this point is essentially a human rights violation) and is just completely fucking flabbergasted and lost on how in the hell childes speedran his way to that conclusion at what amounts to barely a 13% completion rate in his whole overkill fucking plan (just 1 of 3 contingencies btw) and its like yes he has his intended outcome but also precisely 0 idea on how the fuck said outcome was reached the way it was this fast . like hes still winning its His plan thats well underway and ahead of schedule but How

(pov: ur selling the concept of waking up destructive sea creatures to the guy who woke up a celestial body eating cosmic whale at 14)

anyway its truly beautiful i absolutely detest these two and have prime liyue AQ hijinks nostalgia now thank you for the lore drop that allowed this to become canon in my head hoyo

[courtjesterrr]

Hey guys!! Jester here,

So.. Ehhehhehsbsjjx i dunno how to start this um ;-; i literally JUST REHEARSED THIS-

um....

I quit taocc (kinda- let me explain)

Im quitting the rp part of taocc. Its just not fun anymore, not like it used to, i cannot connect and keep my characters stable for the life of me, and most characters are done. Im just adding unnecessary lore to them. Im just really. REALLY burnt out from taocc rping. I wanna focus on other projects that taocc have gotten in the way of..

Im not quitting taocc all together!! No,no, this whole community has been amazing. Taocc got me through some hard times in life, and literally all my friends are here. Im just not doing roleplay anymore. Ill still finish projects like the TAOCC Episode, A TAOCC in Time, Hollow Oc Circus, etc., dw!!

You see, the Characters Of Eternity (I.e. Lantern, The shadows, Eternal Eclipse, etc.,) are done. Their story has been finished for a looong time.(when lantern became Guardian.) Its just, i keep adding unnecessary lore that I feel is ruining that bitter ending.

And the other half of my characters i made on a whim and have either A. No personality. Or B. No real reason to be there.

Rodger: made on a whim, no direction

Mimic: no real reason, plus i failed at making them evil, no direction Cookies: made on a whim, stopped using after my CRK hype went down

Lannbot: was requested to make by Mod Stuff, no real reason, no direction Knights: made on a whim, not even done yet Gardener: given to me by Jeff, no direction, + Jeff selfuses him more than me Sunshine: no reason and has no direction Ludvic: not done, no direction

And, that is why im giving away some of my characters. I feel like some of them CAN have direction, i just cant execute them. For the collab characters (Knights, Gardener, etc.,) ill be giving to the collabers respectively.

Now, the ones who ARENT collabs, ill be giving away to others if they want it. Those include

Sunshine @sunshiningdayyy Rodger @rodger-rodger-101 Mimic @mimic-your-actions Lannbot @artificialflame And Ludvic (librarian for WBQuest)

You can alter appearances, lore, personality, whatever! Im not giving away the eternity characters, as they were my first in taocc and i refuse to give them to someone else, plus their story is done.

You guys can still find me on: @courtjesterrr , @theamazinghollowcircus , @taocc-updates , and @storyjesterrr !!

Sorry guys again for this sudden announcement, like i said, roleplaying isnt fun or fulfilling anymore, and id prefer if i didnt have to stress 24/7 about where things go, whats happening, whos who, etc..

But ill still be here, making stuff for TAOCC, joining VCs, and interacting with this community!!! >:]

this also means i will info dump on unsaid lore on my characters if you desire to know more-

With that said, i will see you guys in the near future!! Stalking you from the shadows, uee hee hee!!

Jester, out!!

[thawthebeez]

haikyuu tiktok is sooooo annoying oh my god guys nishinoya deciding to stop playing volleyball post-time skip is literally not the end of the world he's fine dude. also sorry ur faves didn't go pro not everybody in that series were going to make it to the big leagues anyway. every single decision furudate made with that series was deliberate and realistic and fucking amazing. also no ur fave ship is never going to get together, haikyuu is about sports not romance. there is literally one canonical relationship within the entire series and it's fucking tanaka and kiyoko. iwaoi is not real, bokuaka is not real, kagehina is not real, kenhina is not real, and they never will be. kageyama is not a red flag you guys just don't know how to perceive autistic people in a positive manner without babying them. please just read the fucking manga

[certifiedmaidenlessblog]

Trying so hard not to be a detestable human to my project partner

[cosmobrain00]

thinking abt the "will never escapes the UD au" idea n how much dark mentor henry would mess him up then bc it would be such a big diff instead of will being older n henry trying to pull tht shit bc here's sm 12 yr old in another dimension n he's terrified 24/7 but instead of being relieved for a while at least n escaping to his loved ones he's trapped there for presumably the rest of his life w the half guy half monster who started all of this n ruined this part of will's life- except it's not a simple matter of love n hate yk? bc hey will's scared he wants nothing to do w this monster who's trying to destroy evrything he's evr cared abt but then ovr time it changes bc will's still a kid n henry doesn't come out w the claws evry time. yes he does some fucked up shit yes he isn't good n will knows but does he? bc one time he woke up in a dark dark place n henry looked slightly more human n showed will how similar they truly were n tht they can work together n will doesnt have to be alone like this right? n tht henry is the only one left for him who can teach him stuff if he'll listen, he'll teach him how to survive, how to do things no one else evr could, n will resists, but yrs go by n he starts forgetting his mother n brother's voices n their faces n his friends seem so distant now n he has no one, n tht small, aching part of him tht henry exploits ovr n ovr again says tht they just abandoned him n left him to die- n will tries to tell himself they wouldn't know, they just haven't found him, n he would much rather stay here than have one of them come to save him n die bc would he be worth tht? but isn't it hard to convince urself of smthing when someone else is constantly whispering in ur ear n telling u the opposite? bc thats when a shift finally, unfortunately starts n as much as will hates it he starts listening to henry now bc somehow it's better than suffering in sm dark void alone w his thoughts all the time n always running, n tho he's still unwilling henry knows he's finally won ovr a small part of him n tht there makes all the difference. anyways anyone else thinking abt this too or is it just me?