#spies and gods chapter 3

[ranger-kellyn]

an 8th grader absolutely wrote this dsklgflkj

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: if you have stuck around and waited u are INCREDIBLE thank u so much for ur patience <3 esp cos i'm still testing it with my slowburn lmao + tell me what u think lovelies and as always, enjoy

word count: 4.1k

synopsis: Azriel's shadows find a new way to torment their master. The question of forgiveness follows you. Cassian gets you in the ring, testing out newly learnt skills.

CHAPTER TEN :: SHADOWS

Azriel is a spy by his very nature.

It makes sense; the gift of Shadowsinger is never bestowed so lightly so that it could ever leave any doubt of the user. Shadowsingers are spies, even well before their gifts revealed themselves. Always watching. Always listening.

It was, then, a tad against his disposition to keep his nose out business that wasn't his — as that was precisely what Azriel did best.

But his decision was resolute. Azriel had promised himself he would not be the first to break the distance between you two.

However, for a fae over five-hundred years old, it's quite unsettling to yet again feel the pangs of impatience. Years of practicing restraint and then, in a mere few months, his hard earned patent for patience begins to fray at the ends. You'll be his undoing, he's sure of it.

Like a young and fresh-faced warrior itching for battle, it's almost embarrassing how Azriel can't seem to stay away from you. His feet wander and all paths lead to you.

His shadows are not helping.

Azriel thinks they've managed to get more insistent, which he hadn't really believe was possible. They've proven him oh-so wrong. When he walks the halls of the House of Wind, the dark wisps dart out, as though trying to tug him along.

He had trusted them all of two times before, face flushed and with an ungraceful but thankfully unnoticed exit, he learned just where they were leading him.

They were following the invisible thread between you, taking him to see his mate.

When it became clear he wasn't going to be coerced along, his shadows had only got more devious.

It's a particular brand of torture, Azriel thinks, to be delivered little parcels of knowledge of the person he's not allowing himself to see.

And they're ruthless about it. Whispers about how you're healing and the growing steadiness of your feet, the way you stand a little taller each day, about the tentative trust extended to Cassian.

Gods, that one had made his hand jerk across the paper in surprise, spilling a patch of ink onto the report he was in the middle of.

You were talking to Cassian— no, you were nearly friends with Cassian. The magnanimous hope had ballooned within him before Azriel remembered to stomp it back down.

Mor had teased him for the black stains on his hands during dinner.

He studies them now, nearly washed away completely, before he lifts his head. In the cool air of dusk, Azriel surveils the training ring from the shadows of the door, eyes scanning across the balcony.

It's empty, as expected. The rising moon is his only company.

You've stuck to training in the mornings, of course.

He's relieved and disappointed all at once—then Azriel forces that disappointment out of his system with a frustrated huff.

He is not allowed to be disappointed. Your trust is something he still needs to claw his way back to, to earn, and that required waiting and accepting that.

Azriel would see you... when you wanted to see him.

Despite his resolve, the thread between you still gives a futile tug before he can stop it. Scowling at himself, he rubs at his chest meanly, banishing the feeling. He steps down onto the balcony and heads towards the equipment.

As his scarred hands reach out and pluck one of the training staffs off the rack, his shadows twirls and trill, an almost teasing motion. It takes one pointed whisper, one tug on his heartstrings —they used that one just earlier today— before his hands are glowing warm from the second-hand touch.

His fingers spring apart and the staff hits the tiles with a loud clatter. Even though it's just him out on the balcony, he still casts an awkward glance around him. Gods

If his brothers could see him now, Azriel thinks dryly.

He swats at the shadow that had unhelpfully fed him the information. It dances away from him, swooping down to circle the staff on the ground with its others, a mass of black surrounding it.

Azriel bends down and gingerly picks up the staff, his hazel eyes staring at it for a long moment. Where your hands have been.

After a moment, his fingers curl around it. His marred hands feel like they're glowing again, warm and tingling, even if he knows it's all in his mind. Even so, he swears the golden thread between you hums, just ever so slightly.

He'll allow himself this, just this once, Azriel decides. His grip tightens and he heads to the ring, preparing to train, his hands where yours were just mere hours before.

—

The day after you had met Cassian, as the dawn breaks over sky, you find him on the training balcony before you.

You're a little later than you'd normally be, the sun actually rising before you do. You're moving a little more sluggishly too, but for once it's for a better reason.

Sleep, normally light and fitful for you, had actually been a reprieve last night. You slept deeply, falling into dreamless slumber and resting properly.

When morning crept in, dragging your eyelids up had felt like a mountainous amount of effort. Part of you wonders if it's because of the male across the balcony from you.

Allies, you had agreed upon.

It's a little easier to rest when you've made one less enemy.

Watching him now, stretching his supple and bulging arms, you have to force down the instilled anxiety that festers up, a force of habit that's kept you safe all these years.

You're not in Exordor anymore. You're not keeping any secrets.

Cassian clocks your hesitant stance in the doorway as he turns, a wide grin breaking across his face. His wings perk up, a genuine sign of his excitement. He stops his stretching momentarily to wave.

"Morning!" He calls out, despite the fact the distance between you doesn't require him to do so.

"Ally." He adds pointedly, leaning over to give an over the top wink.

Somewhere buried deep inside you, a laugh almost wants to wriggle free, but it's smothered before you can think too hard. You give him a wry smile instead, the best you can manage, and take a tentative step down onto the balcony. Your wings give a tiny shiver in the passing breeze.

"Good morning," You manage to return, the words sticking in your throat on the way up. It's awkward but nothing in Cassian's friendly demeanor changes to indicate he's noticed. Your feet lead you over towards the weapons rack.

It's as you reach them do you realise your heart is rabbiting wildly, pounding in your chest, stewing you in discomfort. The hair on the back of your neck rises, prickling with unease. Your back is turned to a fierce warrior, one that could very well attack you.

And worse, you'll be training next to him, still not healed, still stumbling on your feet—revealing all the ways to strike you down.

You—you haven't done this, ever. You haven't trained with someone completely as yourself, with no facade to hide beneath. It suddenly becomes incredibly vulnerable.

Your hand trembles as you reach out for the training staff and you try your best to swallow down your nerves.

Cassian has kept his distance, resuming his stretches, but you don't miss how his eyes dance over to you every couple of seconds. For a moment, it alarms you but as you find a place and settle into your stance, you steal another glimpse.

It's more like... a dog wagging its tail, you think faintly.

You press down the urge to smile and begin your exercises.

There's all of ten minutes of silence before it gets broken.

"How do you like Velaris?"

You pause in your motions, huffing to catch your breath as your grip the training staff loosens. You cast a glance over at Cassian who's now picked up one of the broadswords, beginning to throw its weight around easily.

You blink and for a moment, your eyes dart out over the edge of the balcony, to the city teeming with life, so close and yet so far from you. A part of you aches fiercely to see it.

"I... haven't been into the city." You answer honestly. It comes out curt and doesn't exactly answer his question.

Eyeing his sword nervously, your force your aching muscles through another series of exercises. You're a sliver better than the day before but when your ear twinges loudly, you still stumble, a minuscule motion. Your heart lurches up your throat, frustration welling like a tidal wave within you.

"Okay, then how do you like the House of Wind?"

You pause again, looking over to Cassian tentatively, the pain in your ear momentarily forgotten. The rising frustration in you dissipates at the distraction. He waves a casual hand over to the house you've been residing in since you arrived in Velaris and smiles once more.

You swallow thickly. What is his angle here?

"I haven't..." You struggle to put your thoughts into words. It's... different. New. Unsettling. You don't want to say the wrong thing. For all you know, this may well be his home.

Eventually, you find your voice. "I like my room. It's—" Several words ping to the front of your mind. "—big."

You cringe. Some compliment that is. You're too honest even if it is true; you're far too used to the familiar cramped space of your own cabin. Even sharing walls with others is foreign to you and you're incredibly thankful you haven't run into anyone unexpectedly in any corridors yet.

It doesn't occur to you that it might entirely be by design, thanks to Rhys' strict instruction.

Cassian grins. "Yes, I recall Illyria being hardly known for it's roomy cabins."

He swings the sword around with a flick of his wrist, more like an idle motion than anything. Your eyes still flicker down keenly, watching for any threat, just in case.

"So, you haven't explored the house much then?" Cassian continues, feigning a stab forward with the sword, his eyes on his motions but his attention still focused primarily on you.

You follow his lead and swing the training staff again, in an arching whoosh. You shake your head in answer to his question.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you always talk this much during training?"

The words come out before you can think to check them, sucking in a sharp breath as you realise how snappy that sounded. Like you're looking for a fight.

You ready yourself to sink into a defensive stance, before you realise that Cassian has only laughed in response. A curl of his tied back hair comes loose as he shakes his head, the action almost... fond.

"Only when I'm trying to make friends." He grins warmly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Sorry, I'll stop prying."

You swallow and nod slightly, hoping it won't be read as rude. Though you'd had a hard time believing it, Cassian had been true to his word; no fighting unless it was in the ring. You hadn't dared to go near it yet.

Readjusting your stance, you prepared to go through the motions once more. It's still a bit more of the juvenile exercises than you're used to—forced back to the basics as you retrain your body—but also because you're solitary training. You're used to sparring with others.

Stealing a glimpse at Cassian, you ponder if—if you might, eventually that is, train alongside him as you had done with Azriel.

Moving the training staff deftly, you thrust it forward and twist your lithe body to dart forward again, a small patter of your feet on the stone.

It's maneuver used for rushing opponents, throwing them off their balance and driving them backwards. It works for you, mostly, but the way your wings cut through the air, the slightest whistle through the holey scars, makes you a little unsteady.

"You fight like you're bigger than you are."

Straightening up, you breathe heavily and peer around the edges of your wings back at Cassian—who apparently isn't done talking at all.

He nods to you, in reference the maneuver you've just performed. "That is a move usually far better suited for someone of a larger stature."

You clear your throat, wings curling in a bit closer around you. "Yes. Azriel, he- he was trying to rectify that. There's only one way to train Illyrians, as I'm sure you know."

Cassian nods again, lowering the sword to hang at his side. "That I do. However, I feel Azriel may have been taking the wrong approach given... the information he was not privy to at the time."

Your brows knit together, something wrong twisting tightly in your chest.

"Because I'm..."

Female.

"Not a male?"

The words come out sharp without meaning to.

Cassian's picks up on your defensiveness, his expression softening. He gives a little so-so motion with his free hand, his wings rustling behind him. "A bit, but not for reasons you may think."

When you don't speak, he continues, his explanation unfurling.

"Your centre of gravity is different to ours. That actually changes the best way for you to fight. More of your strength comes from these—"

He slaps his hands down onto his thighs with a grin.

"—than from your arms. For that reason, there are moves you will be better at than what you've been taught."

Cassian cocks his head, his dark eyes squinting for a moment, deep in thought. "Azriel likely switched your training to agility based, didn't he?"

You nod gingerly. You had no idea if what he was said was true. If there was a fighting style suited to females. That would require... female warriors which, for all you've ever known, is a highly unlikely thing to exist.

Though, being he is the General of the Night Court's armies, you'd likely assume Cassian knows what he's talking about.

He nods, that same easy smile. "He was right to do so. Most camps focus on brute strength and stamina. Makes for good warriors that can take hits and keep going. You can train that way if you still wish but you might find you excel when your efforts are put elsewhere."

It takes a long moment before you realise exactly what his words mean.

An offer. He's offering to train you, to teach you.

Pleasant surprise blooms inside you, warm, curling up behind your ribs like a purring cat. Cassian's eyes are light and friendly, his body language relaxed as though if you turn him down, it'd be of no consequence to him. Merely an offer.

You turn it over in your mind, back and forth. The gentle wind from the mountains caresses across your cheekbones, a warm touch.

Inside, deep in your chest, there's something telling you to trust. To take the step forward, to accept Cassian's outstretched proposal. That you might regret it if you didn't.

"How?" Your eyes skirt up and down on instinct, still on alert for a threat that isn't coming.

Cassian grins infectiously, not even attempting to hide his glee. He rolls his shoulders back and assesses you once more.

"Have you ever heard of the headscissor takedown?"

—

Flesh hits stone, a large shuddering bang that echoes out the courtyard. In the distance, a couple birds take flight, squawking loudly. Pain ricochets through your knees, a warbling and jarring pain that has you gritting your teeth.

"You're..." Cassian's breath comes out raggedly. "Incredible!"

He beams from where he's pinned beneath you and your pain dashes away in a moment, something gleaning and prideful taking its place.

There's a rivulet of blood under his nose, his hair knocked loose, and you know hitting the ground as hard as he did won't have been nice. He continues on as if he hasn't.

"That was perfect form. You're a Cauldron-born natural!"

You huff a breath that might be an actual laugh this time and quickly retract yourself, standing to your feet. You waver momentarily, hesitance poisoning your thoughts, before you decide. Holding out your hand to help, Cassian is quick to put his hand in your own and use it to lug himself up.

When he gets to his feet, his grip loosens but he doesn't let go altogether.

"Hey," He says, more serious this time. His fingers around your wrist, soft and warm, still make your pulse jump nervously. You force yourself to meet his gaze, still friendlier than ever. "Seriously. You're very skilled and you're a fast learner. You've got the makings to be lethal. The Night Court is lucky to have you on our side."

His hand slips back, grazing your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel the way your heart skips a beat.

No one has ever been... lucky to have you. It's so foreign that hearing someone say it aloud makes you forget to breath for one long second.

"I—" The word pushes out before you think about it. "That's... You-"

Praise is not a part of Illyrian training. You fumble with it, feeling entirely out of your depth, feeling oddly proud of yourself. It feels like your cheeks are warmer than usual.

Cassian chuckles, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "You're welcome." He says pointedly, making you realise you're supposed to say thank you after someone compliments you.

You flounder for another second, making Cassian laugh again, louder this time. He reaches forward and lightly taps you on the shoulder, a faux punch.

"You'll get used to it." He says. Part of you really, really wants to. "Now, c'mon. Let's go again. Hit me."

—

You think that now Cassian's got what he wanted—the two of you training together, learning the plethora of new moves, stances, blocks he has in his repertoire—he wouldn't have anymore questions.

You're sorely, sorely, wrong.

Two mornings later, the pair of you prepare for some sparring with the swords in the ring. Cassian's purposefully picked one of the heavier ones for himself, broad and long, but he'd put aside a blade for you.

It's smaller, lighter. It reminds you of Heartstriker.

Which reminds you of Azriel.

The mere thought of him has your heart humming, miserable and elated all at once. You're still not sure if you'd like to see him just yet, the confusing twist of betrayal too fresh, but still, some part of you seeks him out, consciously or not.

You want to wander the halls until you find the door to leads to him.

It's because he was your first friend. You reason, as you step up towards the sparring ring. He was the first person you trusted. Was? Is—maybe.

Do you still trust him?

Cassian is already in the ring, waiting as patiently as he can. His rustling wings give him away, even as casual as he looks leaned up against one of the corner posts.

His wings are stretched out, towards the sun's rays that are just beginning to slip over the horizon, trying to steal some of their warmth.

A yawn slips past your lips. The night of restful sleep was an outlier it seemed, the tendrils of a calming, easy sleep stolen away just as quickly.

Fingers curling around the hilt of the short sword, you step gingerly into the ring, eyes casting across to your opponent. You roll your shoulders back, warming up the muscles a bit more, and give your own wings a little shake. A shiver wracks through you in response, the chill of the morning touching on sensitive scars.

"Is there a particular reason Azriel is avoiding you?"

Your head snaps up at the sound of Cassian's voice, cool and calm.

He hasn't shifted, though his wings are tucked back in now. His sword is still relaxed at his side, his worn hand tucked around the hilt of it freely.

The usual chattiness that Cassian has been able to coax out of you these last few days shrivels up. Azriel is avoiding you? You hadn't wanted to see him but this—something curls up inside you, sour and foul. You swallow hard.

"I hadn't realised." You murmur, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into your words.

Cassian blinks and seems to realise his mistake. He waves a hand dismissively, as if it can scratch away his last words. "I misspoke. I believe he is... keeping his distance."

He furrows his brow, face pinched, picking his words carefully. "For your sake." He adds.

You... don't know how you feel about that. On one hand, you're relieved. It's not by pure chance that you haven't seen him yet, it's purposeful—he's keeping out of your way, giving you peace.

On the other hand, something twined in your chest pangs sorrowfully, mourning the distance between you.

While Cassian's presence as an ally (or perhaps, you'll even admit, a friend) is comforting, you'll admit it does not fill the same shape in you as Azriel does. You miss him, quite terribly so.

"What makes you think he's avoiding me?" You ask.

Cassian gives an little shrug, his head tilting to the side just a bit. He smiles in a way that tells you he knows more than he lets on. Or maybe, he simply knows Azriel far better than you do.

"He usually trains in the morning." He explains nonchalantly. "He's taken to training at night since your arrival."

You frown at the new information. You don't want Azriel to be changing things for you, to bend and warp his routines in his home, just for you. You don't want him to avoid you either, even if you're beginning to think you might never be brave enough to face him.

He left you. He was your first friend and the betrayal of that is entirely too new— but you don't know where to draw the line.

You don't know for how long you're allowed to be upset — or how long you can let this go on before you're punishing yourself just as much as you are him.

Flexing your grip on the sword, you stare across at Cassian and when you open your mouth, the words tumble out with warning.

"He..." Your breath hitches.

Something awful hooks into your chest, remembering the way he had folded himself into shadows, away from you. The look on his face.

"He left me. When I needed him more than ever." You admit.

Your voice doesn't waver but Cassian can still see the slight tremble in your shoulders, rolling in. Your eyes have dropped to study the floor of the sparring ring, seemingly lost in the memory.

Cassian's face softens, his heart aching for you. You don't even notice how your own wings have begun to curl in, a soft, comforting blanket around yourself.

It's clear you're struggling to juggle the myriad of emotions that haunt you and he gets it, Mother, does he get it. It had been hard the first time, during those first tentative months of friendship with Rhys, before Azriel was even in the picture. Cassian had one emotion that served him any purpose and that was spite.

Spite kept him alive. Spite told him who to knock down and who to put down.

Friendships and spite are not the greatest combination. When Rhys had done something Cassian had vehemently disagreed with, it had felt like a deception, stinging as badly as the backhand from Lord Devlon, sneering the word bastard.

It took time to undo the messy tangle of emotions, to learn that not all betrayal fell into the same box. That forgiveness for some people was not weakness at all.

So, Cassian asks. "Did he come back?"

You glance up at him, eyes flickering with emotion at the question. After a moment, you swallow and say. "Yes. He did."

Cassian nods. He stretches his wings out a bit and reaches up to push a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

"Alright. How long do you intend to punish him for that mistake?"

You freeze at that question and Cassian can tell he's hit the right spot. You're unsure how long you should—because all you know is that you're hurt. And when you're hurt, you don't know any other way to deal with it.

There's only one pathway ingrained for when someone hurts you. Cassian realises suddenly, Mother help him, that he must try to be good at the talking side of things. He needs to show you there's other ways you can go.

"Because," He continues, not waiting for your answer. "I can assure you that Azriel will punish himself for far longer and far harsher than you ever will. I've known my brother a long time. If there anyone who understands the gravity of his actions and will torture himself over them, it's Azriel."

A hesitant expression shutters across your face, your brows furrowing slightly. Cassian doesn't need Rhys' daemati gift to understand the conflict that's battling within you.

"You think I should forgive him."

You don't pose it as a question. A little bit more of that iciness has bled back into your voice, on guard again.

Cassian can tell that, like him, you don't take well to being told what to do. That's fine; Cassian has no intention of doing that whatsoever.

"I think that is your decision entirely." Cassian says, letting the words breathe so they truly sink in. He watches as your eyes narrow momentarily and then your shoulders relax, sinking down an inch.

"But," He says gingerly. "If you avoid each other, you might never move past this. Might never move forward. It might be worth considering what you really want at the end of the day."

The sun has properly broken across the mountain ridges, no longer just sparse rays. You turn your face, facing towards the warmth. There's still that scrunch between your eyebrows, betraying your deep thought, but Cassian has said enough for now.

He moves his sword and taps the end of it against the stone, a soft steel ping grabbing your attention. You whip your head back to face him and Cassian grins, raising his sword.

"Enough talking. More fighting."

You smile, a little hesitant but entirely genuine, and raise your sword in response. That's one thing you're sure you know how to do right.

[NEXT PART: FRIENDS (AGAIN)]

tags below!

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[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Good Omens Season 2 Soundtrack! 😍❤🎵

The Soundtrack CD has wonderful cover and pics and look at the brilliant booklet! :D When you open it it looks like a box with a fly! :D

Options :):

(best to use the local store of course :), the Silva Screen page is thewebpage of the recording company)

CD:

Silva Screen 15.99 €

Amazon.co.uk £10.99

Amazon.com $30.79

Vinyl:

Silva Screen 39.99 €

Amazon.com $53.99

Digital:

Silva Screen 10.99 €

More digital listening options :) (some free)

Episode description and Track Listing :):

CHAPTER 1: THE ARRIVAL - Retired angel Aziraphale and retired demon Crowley's lives are upended when a visitor arrives on the doorstep of Aziraphale's bookshop, bringing chaos. Local shopkeepers Maggie and Nina get locked in to Nina's coffee shop when Crowley loses his temper. Heaven and Hell are suspicious, and Crowley and Aziraphale have a disagreement.

1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells

CHAPTER 2: THE CLUE featuring the minisode A COMPANION TO OWLS - Heaven and Hell are determined to find the missing angel. An overheard song provides Aziraphale with a Clue. Crowley and Aziraphale visit the pub to discuss ways that humans fall in love. While almost 5,000 years ago Crowley is sent to inflict punishments on the righteous Job, God's favourite person, as Aziraphale learns at first hand about temptation, and what Gabriel will and won't believe.

10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel

CHAPTER 3: I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING featuring the minisode THE RESURRECTIONISTS - Heaven sends the angel Muriel in disguise to spy on Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale drives to Edinburgh in pursuit of his Clue, and learns a little about a lot. The couple's visit to Edinburgh in 1827 involves graverobbery, a statue and an unfortunate encounter with a vial of laudanum. In the present, Crowley is in charge of the bookshop, and is disappointed by human beings and the weather.

19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy

CHAPTER 4: THE HITCHHIKER featuring the minisode NAZI ZOMBIE FLESHEATERS - Aziraphale's good deed of picking up a hitchhiker on his way back to Soho proves to be a serious mistake. In 1941 Crowley and Aziraphale encounter some surprising adversaries, old and new, as the Nazi spies who almost entrapped Aziraphale return as zombies from the dead, intent on preventing him from attempting a bullet catch on the West End stage.

33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room

CHAPTER 5: THE BALL - Aziraphale tries to bring Maggie and Nina together by organising a meeting of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association. In Hell, Shax is determined to launch a full scale attack on the bookshop, with a legion of demons at her command. Nina's heart is broken, as is a bookshop window. Gabriel has a close encounter with Mrs Sandwich and a small plate of cakes.

40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle

CHAPTER 6: EVERY DAY - Crowley becomes a Heavenly bee and learns the truth about the Armageddon sequel. Aziraphale defends his bookshop from Shax's army and reveals his halo, Maggie and Nina become warriors, and Jim the assistant bookseller gets some hot chocolate. Crowley and Aziraphale get to the bottom of the mystery of the Matchbox. The Metatron brings an oat milk latte, along with a final offer.

48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

The vinyl should look like this :) (damn, it gorgeous toooo! :D):

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

March 12th

~*~

1. hi! for the next itmf could i please get lxc being called out on his bs? i was obsessed with “weep no more, sad fountains” but i still wanted to see him actually having to come to terms with that fact that he put his trust on jgy above his trust on his brother and was complicit on all of it. thanks!!

break by justdoityoufucker (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LXC Critical, JC Critical, Canonical Character Death, Guānyīn Temple Scene, BAMF WN, Protective WN)

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending) also contains many "FU"s against Lan Xichen but more for how the Lan Clan treated Lan Wangji when he protected Wei Ying & took in Yuan.

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2. Hi! For ITMF, can you please recommend wangxian fics where other people (could be other canon characters, OCs or outsider pov) find out about wangxian’s marriage and are jealous of how lan wangji is the most devoted, doting husband or even just surprised/ awed with their relationship!

Thank you always for your efforts and time 🫶

Life before you was tragic by covalentbonds (Not rated, 4k, wangxian, Fluff and Humor) The part that’s relevant to the ask is in the second chapter

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3. Hi again. ITMF two sets of fics a) where wwx and lwj end up taking care of yuan er after they find him on the door step, a family member leaves him in their care etc b) wwx and lwj having loads of kids adoption or birth wise maybe even a few of the children finding them and just kind of latching on and it's kid fics, the longer the better @thatperson0-0

3A)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer) maybe? WY & LZ aren't together when Yuan shows up but get together days later.

🔒💖 so take my hand (take my whole life too) by cicer (E, 92k, wangxian, Modern, Accidental Baby Acquisition, oh my god they were roommates, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, this fic is not about trauma, it's about the yearning, slowburn, some characters have a pretty strong bias against folks with drug addiction, (this does not reflect the author's opinion of people with addiction disorders!), none of the really grim abuse/drug use affects our main characters, and it takes place offscreen) should be a good fit

3B)

🔒💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it's gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn't begin until chapter 19!, bottom lwj in chapter 20 and 27)

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

🔒and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex) this story has WWX adopting a bunch of kids (or maybe them adopting him), but LWJ loves then as soon as he meets them do hopefully this will work for the request.

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4. Hiiii thank you for all your hard work!!!!

For the next itmf do you have any

A. Child abuse / neglect wwx where lwj realize something is wrong like in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie(cl410) or works that mention the fact that wwx is not giving his all in exams / is being disruptive on purpose (maybe he corrects lwj on something super complicated) and after he stops his grades gets so much better…

B. Anything where wwx safeword out of a nonsexual situation? Like a meeting with the Jiangs or something triggering??

Anyway thank you so much for everything ✨✨✨✨✨✨ @ihaveasoftspotfora-yuan

4A)

Just Say Yes series by edenwolfie (M, 338k, wangxian, canon divergence, matchmaking, pining, cloud recesses study arc, getting together, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, everyone lives au) Wei Ying misbehaves because he's not challenged enough

🔒 Warming up (to him) by barisan (T, 9k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Hypothermia, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Temporary Character Death, Medical Inaccuracies, YZY Abuses WWX, JFM Bashing, pre-wangxian, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

Company by WithBroomBefore (T, 29k, wangxian, canon divergence, not YZY friendly, pre-relationship, getting together, fix-it, hurt/comfort, light angst w/ happy ending)

🔒💙 Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY,  Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POV WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiāng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (T, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, getting hit by cars, Past Child Abuse, Friends to Lovers, Abusive YZY, Caring LWJ, Injured wwx)

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5. ur favorite darkji fics? thanksss

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

💖 Ominous by 3neetee (T, 5k, wangxian, pre-relationship, established relationship, character death, fae & fairies, changelings, dark LWJ, dark WWX, BAMF WWX, graphic description, suicide, implied/referenced domestic violence)

Like stones on an unseen board by Vir_Abelasan (Not rated, 11k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Teacher LWJ, dark twin jades, Age Difference, Manipulation, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Relatively canon-typical abusive Jiangs, WWX Get a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Clan Friendly)

💖 I just wanted to see you so bad by Blackberreh, ThatOnePlatypus (T, 1k, wangxian, canon divergence, dark LWJ, minor character death, blood)

💖 Somewhere Sits an Empty Throne by Siamesa (E, 19k, WangXian, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, tgcf fusion, Gods & Goddesses, Ghosts, Romance, vengeance, Dark LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending)

💖 Do you want to hear by allollipoppins, dameauxgentianes (T, 12k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, canon divergence, not everyone dies au, epistolary, Madam Lan lives, minor character death, dark LWJ, Lan WWX, bad parents JFM & YZY, good uncle LQR, no sunshot campaign)

💖 demons run when a good man goes to war by Miranda_Aurelia (T, 20k, wangxian, LWJ & NHS, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, angst w happy ending, NHS & LWJ friendship, not JGY friendly, dark LWJ, revenge, (presumed) major character death, not LXC friendly)

💖  Like the sea loves the shore by Say (E, 15k, wangxian, LQY & WWX, implied/referenced WWX/WC, F/F, rule 63, dark LWJ, protective LWJ, sirens, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst w/ happy ending, eventual smut, human WWX, siren LWJ, age difference, non-human genitalia, minor character death)

💖  Buried in the Sky, Hallowed by thy Depths by themunchking (T, 9k, wangxian, supernatural elements, sirens, dark wangxian, canon-typical violence)

💖 The Way You Tremble by themunchking (E, 6k, wangxian, murder husbands, vampires, blood, violence, supernatural elements)

At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 8k, wangxian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

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6. Hi!!

It's been a while since I asked here, but I can't help but to come back for MXTX stories jahaha

I Was wondering, for the next "I'm in the mood fof", may I ask for fics where WWX is good friends with HC from TGCF? I need their bromanceeeeee

Tysm!! @nia-rarita

🧡 The Red Ribbon by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, WangXian, HuaLian, Canon Divergence, Ghost City, a bit of beefleaf, Immortality, Cultivation Partners, Juniors, XL and HC find a child who happens to be WWX, Fluffy wangxian, WWX is a Supreme Ghost King, First Time, TGCF)

🔒Can we skip to the Good Part? by pink-lotus-pods (kkomaism) (T, 107k, HuaLian, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, YLLZ WWX, HuaLian are in Love , Married HuaLian, Slow Build, Canon Temporary Character Death, Ghost WWX, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Character Study, Panic Attacks, WWX Has a Mental Breakdown, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, unbearable amounts of sexual tension, Suicidal Thoughts, mild but it's still there!, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Genius WWX)

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7. Hiiii for the next itmf do you know any alpha to omega wwx ??? Like Juste A Taste by anxiousTypist or any omega wwx and alpha lwj being “roommates”

Thank you for your work !!!!! 🤍🩵❤️🖤

Blissful Ignorance and All Its Benefits by DrPanda99 (E, 20k, wangxian, WIP, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Oblivious WWX, Alpha WWX, Alpha LWJ, Bitching, Self-bitching?, Masturbation, Size Difference, of the penis variety, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Knotting Dildos, Large Cock, Small Penis, Size Kink, Accidental Voyeurism, Size Queen WWX, LWJ & WWX Have a Breeding Kink, PWP, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Humor)

Two Alphas, One Ship by fenaly (E, 6k, wangxian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, A/B/O, Bitching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Non-consensual sex, Non-Consensual Bitching, Aliens, Non-Human Genitalia, Blood and Gore, Murder Husbands, Feminizing genitalia terms, Among Us AU, Sci-Fi, Explicit Smut, Tentacles, Shapeshifting, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Monsterfucking, Violence, Alpha/Alpha becomes Alpha/Omega, Breeding Kink, Wank and Tell)

🔒 Unpreventable Happened by 3neetee (G, 15k, wangxian, Modern, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, but not for long, Bitching, Roommates, baby acquisition, fostering, Pre-Relationship, Mutual Pining, WWX is irresponsible with himself, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic)

Changing by Dixielis (T, 2k, wangxian, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Omega WWX, Bitching, Mpreg, POV Outsider, Hurt/Comfort, Good Uncle LQR, Modern)

Mutual Nurture by NinaCarow (E, 9k, wangxian, Mentions of Character Death, mentions of abuse, Mentions of Rape, no rape occures tho, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Past Alpha WWX, Biting, Bonding, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, WWX Has a New Golden Core, its just sex and cuteness, mostly)

what home feels like by callmeb6104 (E, 7k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Omega WWX, changing of (secondary) gender, Whump, WWX Whump, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Violence, Bad Parent YZY, Anal Play, Anal Fingering, Ass to Mouth, Multiple Orgasms, sex tears, Hand Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Body Worship)

I care for you by Lanwangjisnights (M, 27k, wangxian, WIP, Modern with Magic, Magical Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha WWX, Fox WWX, Knotting, Nesting, Dual Cultivation, Mpreg, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics)

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8. Hey!!

I hope youre doing well <33 i wanted to read something similar to how to fall in love with a catfish - a guide by wwx in terms of humour. Im fine with whatever premise/canon/non canon/au etc etc i just want to read something witty-ish funny like how that was.

Thank you in advance!!!!

Inter-Sect Politics for the Absolute Beginner by Elpie (Horribibble) (M, 3k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Brothels, BAMF WWX, Chaotic WWX, Humor, JGS Being an Asshole, Justice, JGY & WWX Friendship)

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9. Is there a fic where wwx becomes pregnant through artifical insemination. He doesn't know it's lwj and neither does lwj. They end up getting close and falling in love and later lwj learns he's also the bio dad?

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10. hii :D im in the mood for some magical girl/hero AU fics, preferably wangxian but i dont mind other ships or a lack of thereof. what i mean by "magical girl AU" is a modern setting in which cultivators are more or less vigilantes/heroes who can transform using their powers. hellinglaozu on tumblr has an AU similar to the genre im looking for btw, if you'd want a more concrete idea as to what i'm looking for you could refer to it (it's called seventeen romance). thank you!! ^^ @harapecowee

Wei Wuxian Makes a Wish series by natcat5 (M, 119k, wangxian, major character death, underage, madoka magica au, modern w/ magic, time travel, high school au, body horror, self-harm, angst w/ bittersweet ending, time loop, mental instability, suicidal thoughts) absolutely phenomenal madoka magica wangxian au

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11. Hey! I’m in the mood for fics similar to Impossible Remains on AO3, aka wangxian fics where WWX dies after the golden core transplant or just earlier than canon! thank u so much to all the mods and the lovely work u guys do! 🥰🫶

Blood of the Black Earth by wirevix (M, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Xuánwǔ of Slaughter Cave, Sunshot Campaign, Sad with a Happy Ending, Ghost WWX, Monster WWX, Canonical Character Death, Although not at the canonical time, Grief/Mourning, Good Sibling JC, Horror)

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12. thanks for ur hard work! any pregnant wwx fic recs?

Accidents Will Happen by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 45k WangXian, Post Canon, Mpreg, Fluff, Light angst)

🧡 Brilliant Mistake by brooklinegirl (E, 53k, WangXian, Modern AU, Sex Pollen, Mpreg, dubcon, Modern Cultivators, Dubious Medical Science)

All I Want by Selenay (E, 47k, wangxian, Modern, Mpreg, Post Holiday Romance, Consequences, Reunions, Idiots in Love, wangxian attempt to be sensible adults about it, they are very bad at it, Teacher WWX, Handwavey Biology)

Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal)

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13. Hello! I need your help in suggestions. Can you suggest me a Wangxian fanfiction where Wei Ying hurts Lan Zhan for jiangs or others and latter reunited with him. I have read various Lwj hurting Wei Ying fanfiction but not Wei Ying hurting Lan Zhan @abz18699-blog

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14. hii, this is for itmf!

fics where they struggle w remembering things, not like memory loss, maybe where they disassociate. forgetting things which r not so nice and then starting to forget small random details?

thank you!!!!

to the river of rivers by haysel (T, 26k, WangXian, Character Study, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Dissociation, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, Trauma, Angst with a Happy Ending, tw for dissociation, sort of sickfic, Hurt/Comfort)

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15. I'm assuming that this is where I ask about ITMF recs? If it is, do you have any fics focusing on like, the past characters reacting specifically to Nie Huaisang's 10 year revenge plan, or to how differently Nie Huasang acts after everything? Or at least any fics where the past characters react to the future (whether it be through watching the show, or going to the future, meeting future selves, etc.) that has some amount of focus on Nie Huaisang along with everything else? Thank you!

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not rated, 279k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, fix-it of sorts, CQL verse, golden core reveal, angst w/ happy ending, BAMF NHS)

Nie HuaiSang's Diaries - When Spirits Drift in Time by IlnaHers (T, 37k, wangxian, WIP, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reveal, Time Travel? only the diaries though, Characters Watching the Show, Serious WWX, Hurt WWX, Hurt JC, Hurt LWJ, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective WWX, Hurt NHS, Protective NHS, Character Death Reveal, Progressive Reveal, Melancholy, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Angst, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, Sad, Shock, Mentioned Junior Quartet)

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16. Hewwo!!!!! For the next ITMF could i pretty pls get recs for Wen remnants/burial mounds era???? Bonus points if there’s the Wens and/or Yilling people loving their patriarch and extra bonus points if there’s the sects realizing they’re wrong and leaving them alone but not necessarily requirements, i just want Wei Wuxian and his found family being happy making a dire place their home!

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 91k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

Until It's Dark by suzvoy (M, 120k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LWJ Finds Out, Pining, Fluff and Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hair-pulling in chapter 23) also has Lan Wangji in the Burial Mounds but has a great depiction of the Wens and how the sects could have responded better

💖 Return to Sender by Thesaurus_with_no_words (M, 72k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Temporary Amnesia, Slow burn)

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17. Anyone wanna rec me some light-hearted time travel fics? I like the serious ones fine but it's hard to find ones that are funny.

Thanks in advance! o7

🔒 ripples spread out when a single pebble is dropped into water by RoseThorne (G, 1k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JYL & WWX, JC & WWX, WWX & WQ, LQR & LWJ, LQR & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Future Character Death, Timey-Wimey, Truth, Honesty, Guilt, Crack and Angst, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc) kinda

Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

rerun from the outside by Eicas (T, 2k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel, Crack, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, JC POV)

River Stones by littlesystems (M, 18k, WangXian, Time Travel, Post-Canon, Cloud Recesses Study arc, Junior Quartet, Oblivious WWX, Suffering LWJ, Voyeurism)

Wangxian's Time-Travelling Shenanigans Series by pupeez4eva (Varies, 18k, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, POV Outsider, Love confessions, PDA, Everyone Lives/Nobody dies) most of their wangxian fics explore lighthearted time travel fix it

🔒An Arrow Through Time by syrus_jones (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Crack Treated Seriously, Time Travel, Reverse time travel, into the future, Potentially a Fix-it-fic?, Time Travel Fix-It, Mistaken Identity, POV LWJ, Angst, Gay Panic, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Young LWJ, Older WWX, Internally Screaming LWJ) though it is not been updated since long

💖 vinegar jug by dandelion_san (G, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, Awkward Crushes, Jealousy)

Look forward, the future looks back by SerlinaBlack (T, 1k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Dialogue Heavy, Crack Treated Seriously, Madam yu's a+ parenting mentioned, Oblivious WWX, jealous LWJ, WWX in WWX's body)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[featheryminx]

the poppy war trilogy spoilers / the burning god spoilers

the thing about the end of the burning god that is SO tragic is that it did not have to be like this.

like at the very, very end, there’s only really 3 options—Rin overpowers Kitay and goes on her war bender against the West, Rin & Kitay acquiesce to the West’s demands and are begrudgingly allowed to be rulers of Nikan, or Rin & Kitay die. There is no winning option.

But just like 2 chapters prior, there was light (in the form of the poppy fields in Tikany), light which got snuffed out by Rin’s single mindedness and her insistence on continuing the war instead of rebuilding. I am fully of the opinion that the poppy fields were burnt not by Nezha’s men, but rather by the citizens of Tikany who could not stand that Rin was going to lead them into another war. I fully believe that, and I fully believe that is what we, the readers, are supposed to understand, even as our unreliable narrator swears up and down that it had to have been Nezha’s spies.

If Rin was a little less traumatized, or had a little more ability to let go of everything she’s been made into, they could have been… happy? to some extent. They could have survived on their own terms. But the war isnt kind, and the world isn’t fair, and after all the horrors that have been inflicted on and by this woman, there was never a chance that she could make the decision that would save them.

That’s the true tragedy, to me. It’s not on Speer in those final, heartbreaking chapters—it’s the inevitability of those final chapters that was set in motion the minute Rin spoke on that stage in Tikany.

[kittenintheden]

NYS sexy spoiler under the cut

LOOK MAN IDK this is going happen in like 2-3 chapters don't worry about it.

***

She swings her leg over to straddle him and his hands go to the robe riding up her thighs. He pushes it higher, and higher still, all the way to her hips. That’s when he spies the brown leather holster wrapped around the width of her left thigh, bisecting one of her scars. His eyes trace it, thumb pressing to the inside and trailing all the way around until he feels the two hand daggers she has hidden on the outside.

Astarion bites his lower lip and groans low in his throat. He releases it and flicks his eyes up to her face where she looks down at him with a coy smile.

His eyelids flutter. “Planning for a confrontation today, my dear?” he purrs up at her.

“Always am,” she says, settling down onto his bared erection.

He sucks his breath in through his teeth at the feel of soft, smooth fabric running along the underside of his cock. “Gods,” he breathes, pushing her robe up further until it’s bunched around her waist and he can see the lavender smallclothes beneath. “Is that silk?”

“Mmhm,” she hums, spreading her palms over his abdomen and slowly grinding back and forth along his length, maddingly.

“Hah,” he sighs. He lets his head fall back to the mat and feels the tension coil tight and warm.

Ori’s breathing goes ragged and he cracks his eyes to find her flushed and heavy-lidded, chasing her own bliss along his hard cock. It is a thrill, a high, a unique pleasure to give her this, to know the fluttering he can nearly feel in his lustful daze is his doing.

His hands grip her tighter, guiding her movement along him, and hells, if he isn’t careful, they’re both going to-

“Oh, love,” Ori gasps, her head falling forward to her chest as if it’s too heavy. “Oh, I’m going to come.”

He palms her arse hard and works her harder, pleasure rippling through his core. “Come, then,” he gasps. “Go on.”

“Are you-” she pants.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “Come, darling. Come for me.”

Dusty gray with a pink undertone flushes her cheeks and she shudders atop him and he can feel it, can feel her go hot and wet as she messes her lovely silk underthings against him, and it’s all he can do not to spill on his own belly right behind her. He holds himself back, panting, because he wants… oh, how he wants… warm and tight and welcoming…

She continues to grind against him even as she comes down, breathing heavily and blinking over his face, her curls falling around her ears like a halo all about her head. She licks along her bottom lip.

“You?” she manages.

He opens his mouth to speak and the words stick in his throat, the tightness in his core overwhelming him. He swallows and tries again, tangling his fingers into the band of her smallclothes at her hips and twisting them.

When he meets her eye again, he says, “Inside. I want to… come inside.”

A lazy half-smile stretches her face as she lifts a heavy hand to the holster at her thigh and flicks open the stay, drawing the dark steel dagger from its place as he whines and lets his hands fall to either side. She holds his gaze as she carefully slips the blade between skin and silk, twisting her wrist until the fabric splits apart. He bucks against her, nearly losing himself again, but holds steady as she repeats the action at the other hip, tossing the dagger to the ground and pulling the ruined cloth away until they’re skin to skin.

Astarion writhes under her, mad with lust, nearly snarling as she teases him again by running her hot, wet folds against his cock.

“I’m barely going to last as is, love, please,” he gasps, hands back on her thighs.

Ori rolls forward to catch the head of him and sits back in one fluid motion, letting him stretch and slide all the way to the hilt inside her, and he arches his chest up off the ground at the sensation.

They stay like that a moment, adjusting, and then she begins to bounce, powerful thighs rising and falling on either side of his. The building tension immediately swells and he whines again.

“Oh hells oh gods oh bleeding-” he says, holding her and helping her move.

She pants above him and takes his hand, dragging it from her hip to her lower abdomen, pressing his palm firmly just above the place where they meet, and he gasps as he feels the bulge of his cock move inside her.

“You like that, sweetheart?” she whispers, still bouncing. “You like filling me up?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Love it when you�� take all of me.”

A rolling purr falls from her throat. “Then give it to me, love. Every last drop.”

Astarion’s eyes roll clear to the back of his head and his mouth opens wide as his pleasure peaks and he spills inside her, scalding and blinding and heated. His legs shake from it and when he finds his voice again, he moans out his release, continuing to lift and drop her over him, drawing it out for every receding pulse until he’s fully spent.

When they still, chests heaving from exertion and sweat dewing their skin, he swallows hard and looks to her face to find her smiling down at him.

He flops back, muscles going limp. “Oh, what?” he mumbles.

“Like being invited to come inside, do you?” she teases.

Astarion throws an arm over his face with a hiss. “Shut up.”

Even so, he presses his free hand to her abdomen again and holds it there.

[libraryofneith]

Out of Mind - Chapter 11 (Joel Miller x Female Reader)

@hiroikegawa @evyiione @orcasoul

Guess who just graduated and got into grad school! And how am I celebrating? By abandoning my academic endeavours for my fics.

I know it's been a slow burn but we are so close I promise!

If you want to be the first to know when this fic is updated let me know and I'll add you to the taglist.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Summary: Joel shelters you from the storm

Tags/Warnings: [whole fic is 18+, minors DNI], it puts its age in the bio or it gets the block button, nearly freezing to death, survival, nudity, just for body heat honest

It was funny. Moments ago, all he'd wanted was sleep and now he'd done all that he could do, now that he finally could sleep, he was wide awake.

Joel

The door wouldn't budge. The hinges creaked and groaned with protest and refused to give way. Joel cursed. He would have to put her down.

She gave a muffled cry of protest as he lay her gently in the snow but it couldn't be helped. He was going to have to put his full weight behind this next push and he couldn't do that while carrying her.

She'd collapsed a while back. She'd lasted longer than he'd feared she would but a combination of the cold, the climb and the lack of sleep eventually drained the last of her energy and she'd curled up in the snow, letting the blizzard cover her, refusing to budge.

"We have to keep going."

"Can't."

"C'mon, we're nearly there."

"You said that an hour ago." Had it been an hour? Time didn't seem to mean anything anymore. There was too much snow to see the sky and he didn't have the strength to look up. Just ahead. He had to keep looking ahead.

"You can't stay here."

"Just let me rest a bit. Just a bit. I'll be fine in a minute." Joel had heard that before. Before, he had pressed on regardless, leaving it to the other person to get back up or lie there and let the snow take them. Perhaps she'd get back up if he left her. Perhaps not. He was not taking that chance.

With her in his arms he couldn't shield his face from the snowstorm and he got turned around four times. Five times he thought he spied the cabin but it turned out to be a large tree, if anything at all. So when he finally saw it, he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him again and he nearly sobbed with relief when the house stayed where it was as he walked on. Now he was there and they couldn't get in.

He took a few steps back then rushed forward covering his head as he bulldozed the door open and fell through. It took the rest of his willpower to get back up.

She barely said or did anything as he dragged her in and that chilled him more than any snow or wind. So he got to work quickly. He taped the door shut to keep out the wind, and any other unwelcome elements. Mercifully there was the remains of a fire in the fireplace and some scraps of paper and twigs. Not enough for a huge fire but it would have to do, any wood out there would be soaked. He got the flames going then took out his flask and cursed as he realised the whisky was frozen into slush. He put it by the fire to warm up then turned to her.

"Ciara"

"Mmmph"

"We're inside but we're gonna freeze in these clothes, you understand?"

"Ciara wake up." Her eyes were open but she seemed dazed.

"OK?"

"Ciara we both need to strip naked, can you do that?" She closed her eyes and groaned.

"Do you need me to help?" A nod. Thank god. He hoped she didn't give him hell later. He stripped himself first. It felt weird taking her clothes off while he still had all of his on. Maybe that made no sense but it was how he felt.

He felt no less cold naked than he had fully clothed, but she shivered as each layer of wet clothing was peeled off and when he exposed her skin, it was so icy that he hissed through his teeth like he'd been burned. But he had to keep going or they were both goners. There was still a bed with a duvet so they wouldn't have to use their wet sleeping bags. He grabbed the duvet and blanket and covered them both and they each took a swig of the semi warm whiskey. Joel shuddered at the cold slush but the burning taste helped a lot. He had to help her, tilting her head back so she could drink. She gagged at the taste but kept it down.

It was funny. Moments ago, all he'd wanted to do was sleep but now that he'd done all that he could do, now that he finally could sleep, he was wide awake. Adrenaline was coursing through his body. He couldn't believe they'd actually made it. And now they were lying here. Like two icicles stuck together.

As much as he hated to admit it, he'd imagined being pressed to her naked form so many times but not like this, not with the two of them barely holding on to consciousness. He'd made sure to look as little as possible but the glimpses - the bare shoulders, the curve where her neck met her body, the divot between her shoulder blades… it was the sweetest form of torture. How was a man meant to sleep just inches away from that? Still, he felt his eyes growing heavy as we watched her, her hair cascading down her back, moving with each breath. He found himself fighting sleep but as he gazed at the hair on the nape of her neck, he was pulled into the smell, the feel and the sweet sweet warmth of her.

[blueberry-obsessed]

Resource Guarding

Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen || Ongoing || Explicit || Alternate Universe — Spies & Secret Agents

Chapters: 2/? || Word Count: 6985

Charles cries out to God, to Max. Maybe to both, maybe the syllables mush together under his tongue and he just cries out to Max instead.

For @marieshyperf1xations and @starrwrrld <3

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Part 7

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC 

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

**MINORS DNI, SMALL SCENE OF ADULT CONTENT**

Burning Hearts Chapter 7: Repressing (some) Urges 

— — 

“You aren’t focusing your energy.” 

“I can focus enough to kick your ass!” 

Daisy chirps back and forth with Law as they sparred across the clearing in the woods. 

“You either harness Haki or awaken your Devil Fruit. Without that, you’ll get hosed in the New World, regardless of how much stronger the rest of your crew gets.” Law barks at her. 

There was a sharp sound of swords meeting. 

“I thought people were born with Haki, I can’t just get it.” Daisy pushes Law back, finally strong enough to defend herself from his blows. 

“How are you going to know that you don’t have it if you don’t even try?” Law disappears and she searches the clearing for a flash of blue to signify his reappearance. Daisy spins around and raises her blades in defense. 

*CLANG* 

“You think I’m not trying? Sorry I’m not a bright little gifted kid like you were- AH!” Law pushes Daisy across the clearing and her back hits hard against a tree. 

“A gifted kid? That’s what you think I was?” Law comes at her with renewed force. He uses his power to throw Daisy’s body into the air and back down again. “You think you’re the only one who experienced horrors beyond comprehension?! You don’t know anything about me or my past.” 

Daisy struggles, but she rises to her feet. She spits on the ground. 

“You’re right. I don’t know a god damn thing about you.” Daisy breaths heavily. “It’s like it would kill you to open up to someone. Be a human.” She approaches Law slowly, like a wounded lion still set on taking down a wildebeest, a small trickle of blood coming from the crown of her head and turning that grey streak red at the base. 

Without warning, Daisy launches herself into the air and lunges into Law. They lock in a sparring match that went on for ages before Law finally pinned her to the ground. 

Daisy was bested again. She stared up at the man above her with wild eyes. Law looked down and met her gaze, hands on either side of her face… but shortly after looking in her eyes, Law’s own eyes wandered to the rest of her form. Chest heaving violently and droplets of sweat littering her cleavage and sternum, hair splayed out messily against the dirt floor of the clearing… 

It reminded him of his dreams…

Daisy was underneath him, laying there at his mercy…

Law’s eyes glazed over… 

*THWACK* 

Law was broken out of his daze by being catapulted across the clearing and onto a ragged tree stump. 

“Fuck…” Law had let his guard down and he left himself open for assault. “What the hell was that…” He picks himself up and sees Daisy standing across the clearing, wings spread. Law spies something else…

Was that a tail?

A long, black, scaled and spiked tail protruded from her backside and slowly flicked back and forth. 

“What? Haki, Devil Fruit? Who said I can’t do both?” Daisy chides with a smirk. 

Law coughs, still struggling for breath after having the wind knocked out of him. There was a silence as he walks towards her. 

“What changed your mind?” Law asks with a raised eyebrow. “And when the hell did you figure that out?” Law gestures at the new appendage. 

“You were being a dickhead. I wanted to beat the shit out of you faster, so I did some training. Turns out, it worked! You just got fucking rocked!” Daisy laughs hard and holds her stomach. 

Law saw her brilliant smile and couldn’t help but smirk a bit at her new found confidence. 

*bdd bdd bdd bdd* 

The transponder snail that Law carried in his jacket began to ring. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the snail and answers it. 

“Yeah?” He speaks into the snail. 

“Hey Captain… it’s Bepo… can you come back to the base? Something came up and we need to talk to you…” 

“Is this an emergency, Bepo? You know this training is important.” Law grips the snail tighter in his fist. 

“I-I think so, C-Captain…” Bepo sounded concerned.

“Fine.” Law hangs up the snail and puts it back in his pocket. 

“Everything okay?” Daisy sheathes her blades. 

“We need to head back.”

— — 

You and Law enter the base to find it oddly quiet. Usually the compound was buzzing with chatter and the comings and goings of the rowdy Heart Pirates… but now it was eerily silent. Law leads you to the galley and pushes the doors open. He found every single member of his crew packed into the kitchen around the dining table. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi were seated at the table while the rest of the crew stood around them. 

Every single pair of eyes shot up at the two of you when you entered the room. No words were said. The air was thick with tension. 

You were confused. What had happened in your absence? You then spy a News Coo spread out on the dining table. You read the headline from the doorway. Trafalgar Law Named Newest Warlord of the Sea.

Your eyes bug open wide. You rush towards the table and scoop up the paper. You begin reading. 

“With the gift of 100 pirate hearts, Surgeon of Death, former member of the Worst Generation, Trafalgar Law joins the ranks of the Seven Warlords…” You read quietly out loud. 

You turn to Law. He stares at you, expressionless. You look back at the crew. The same response. 

“Well, it’s obviously a mistake. We just write the paper and say there’s been a misconception and it’s not true, right? It’s fine, right? Law?” You question him as you put the paper back on the table. 

The silence continues. You demand an answer. 

“Law? This obviously isn’t true, right?” You step towards him. 

“It is true.” Law finally responds. 

The silence becomes even heavier. 

“Captain… r-respectfully… w-what the hell is going on?” Penguin speaks up with a shaky voice. 

“You hate the government, Captain… now you work for them-?” Ikkaku chimes in. 

“We work for them.” Law butts in. 

The room is quiet again. 

“I have been appointed one of the Seven Warlords. My bounty has been cancelled along with the rest of the crew.” Law turns from his crew to face you this time. “Everyone’s but Daisy’s, that is.” 

“What!?” You reply in shock horror. 

“After the incident at Marine Ford, the World Government is out for blood with any of the Straw Hat Pirates. Telling the Marines that I was harboring you would only complicate matters. You’ll stay here and you’ll stay hidden. Now that I’ve allied with them, it’s assured that they’ll leave us be.” 

“But Captain-“ Bepo starts. 

“I have 60 million berries on my fucking head and you work for the government now?!” You raise your voice. “You bailed out your crew and now I’m stuck here like a stowaway again?!” 

“There’s a reason for all of this.” Law responds. 

“A reason?! PLEASE kindly explain it to us, then!” You shout. 

“Yeah, Captain, we deserve an answer. Why did you hide this from us?” Bepo asks. 

“I hid it to protect you all. You are my crew and I care about you. You all know that is something I don’t say often, but I mean it. I can’t explain it now, but I promise it will all make sense later. You need to trust me. This is temporary.” Law snatches the News Coo from the table. “You need to trust me, it’s all part of a larger plan. If you don’t trust me, you may leave, I understand… but if you wish to stay, your loyalty will be rewarded.” 

Law looks around at his crew once more before retreating down the hall to his office. 

“Fucking bullshit…” You storm down the hall and into your room. You slam the door behind you and begin cleaning your room to keep your mind off the current situation. 

— — 

Law sits at his desk, again pouring over the text about ancient Zoan Devil Fruits, chin resting in his fist. Law was trying to distract himself from the guilt that thrummed in his chest that appeared from keeping such a huge secret from his crew. 

He wished he could tell them… His crew he loved and cared so deeply for… and Daisy, who was upset with him once again… 

They knew nothing of his plan to murder Doflamingo… and they probably never would until after the plan succeeded or failed… He would die trying to complete his mission or come back to his crew successful and have to pick up the pieces of their shattered trust… 

Either way, he had months to plan and build the rapport back up. He was in no shape to take on Doflamingo now, he had much to prepare. Trillions of thoughts whirled around in Law’s head as he mulled over the text at his desk… he couldn’t focus on the words anymore so he resigned and left his office for the showers. 

In his sour mood, Law skulks towards the bathroom quickly, not paying attention to where he was going. 

*OOF*

“Hey, watch it.” Daisy remarks with the laundry basket that was now half full under her arm, the rest of the contents spilled all over the floor after the collision. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking-“ Law bends over to help Daisy pick up her clothing that had fallen to the ground and put them back into her bin. 

“Uh, thanks.” Daisy awkwardly hikes the laundry bin over her hip again and passes him to head towards the laundry room in the center of the base. Daisy rounds the corner and Law lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. 

Law looks down at the floor and sees a black, amorphous blob on the ground in front of him. He picks it up. It was a pair of lace panties. 

Law gasps, but doesn’t drop them right away, fascinated by how soft they feel between his tattooed fingers. 

D, E, A, T, H. 

“Hey, Cap?” Ikkaku’s voice comes from the opposite end of the hallway. 

In a panic, Law shoves Daisy’s panties into his hoodie pocket. 

“Yes?” Law answers, almost too quickly. 

“You know we’re not mad at you, right? We just wish you would have told us. We would support you always, I wish you’d have more faith in us is all.” Ikkaku smiled softly. 

“I know. It was…” Law sighs. “A selfish decision. I hope you all can understand.” 

“We do. I think you should talk to Bepo, though. He seems pretty beat up.” 

“Thanks. I’ll talk to him.” 

Law pushes open the door to the bathroom and starts the shower. 

— — 

Law returns to his office after his shower and looks at the clock. 

1:48 AM

“When the hell did it get that late?” Law asks himself. 

Law grabs the text from his desk and brings it with him through the archway of the adjoining room to his bed. He throws the textbook onto his bed and strips himself of his jeans before he climbs in after it. 

After flipping through some more pages, he instinctively reaches into his pocket to warm his free hand while reading. 

The panties. 

He still had Daisy’s worn panties in his hoodie pocket. 

Law gingerly pulls them out and unfolds them. He feels his cock twitch at the sight of the skimpy black lace. He knew it was wrong to be aroused but he couldn’t help it… 

Law stares at the panties in his hands. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to not listen to his intrusive thoughts but he simply can’t resist anymore, the animalistic urge in him taking over… he pulls the panties to his face and takes a deep inhale. 

His eyes roll back in his head. The heady, musky scent of Daisy’s panties fill his senses. 

“Fuck…” 

Law couldn’t help but imagine the sweet, slightly sour , sweaty taste of her cunt after a hard sparring session in the clearing with him… how she might react if he dipped his tongue in between her sensitive lower lips… would she moan? Would she whimper? Would he know what to do? Would she even like it? He knows what she’s been through, he shouldn’t be thinking of her like this… 

“Shit…” Law gasps and unbuckles his belt. He unzips his jeans and frees his suddenly aching cock. 

“Room.” Law creates a room around his office and uses it to lock the deadbolt on the door. 

With a bit of guilt, Law begins to stroke his cock with the hand the panties were currently being held in. It was so wildly wrong, but he couldn’t help it. He had thought of Daisy writhing on his member so many times that this felt almost natural. 

The lacy fabric caused Law to hiss out at the foreign sensation, only having ever felt his hand down there in moments of desperation like this one. Law begin stroking himself slowly with the panties and threw his head back in pleasure. He closed his eyes and thought of her…

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this… but it felt too good to stop…

“Fuck, Daisy…” 

He had finally said it out loud. It felt so sinful, slipping off his tongue in a moment of lust, but it also felt so incredibly right. Her name felt so comforting and safe falling from his lips, Law didn’t even notice how close he was coming to his own finale. 

“Shit!” Law chokes out as he reaches his climax, ropes of thick cum spurting out all over the filched pair of panties. 

As the remnants of his orgasm subside, Law realizes the filth of his actions. He pulls up his underwear and shoves the soiled panties deep inside his laundry basket, thoroughly hoping they will never be discovered in their current state. 

Law tosses the book off his bed and climbs into the covers. With a huge sigh, he tries his best to fall asleep. 

— — 

You smile widely as you pull a fresh apple pie out of the oven, inhaling it’s intoxicating scent as you place it on the counter. 

Suddenly, as if by magic, Shachi and Penguin appear in the galley. 

“Cake?”

“Pie?”

“For us?” They say in unison. 

You laugh. 

“Yes, you vultures. Let me cut a slice for your buzzkill captain and then you can have at it. Make sure Clione gets a slice. You know it’s his favorite, okay?” You say as you carve a piece and put it on a plate to bring to the Captain of the Heart Pirates. You grab a fork and bring the plate down the hall to Law’s office. 

You knock. 

“Yes?”

You enter. 

“Hey… brought you some pie.” You smile and walk towards Law’s desk to set down the plate. 

“Hmm.. Smells good. Sit. Want to show you something.” Law dismisses your dessert and gestures for you to take a seat in the chair across from him again. 

You sigh. 

“Law if this is about my Devil Fruit-“

“I found it.” Law interjects. 

There was a heavy silence. 

“You… what?” You ask 

“Come, look at this drawing…” Law stands up from his chair and beckons you to come around and look at the book on his desk. 

You roll you eyes and get up to look at the dusty tome. You look down and your stomach drops straight through to the floor. 

“That’s… that’s it…” You cover your mouth with one hand. “That’s exactly what it looked like… I remember it…” Your eyes gloss over, being involuntarily brought back to the day you were forced to ingest that Devil Fruit. 

“A wyvern.” Law speaks monotonously, as if he were prescribing you an antacids. 

“A what?” You whisper, unable to speak louder than that. 

“A medieval type dragon. Claws, wings, fire breath, tail… it all makes sense…” Law runs his smooth fingers over the page. 

“This is you, Daisy. You have this power.” He turns his head to look at you in the eye. 

You stumble backwards and fall on the floor. 

“No, I…. I’m not like that.. It’s something else..” You mumble mostly to yourself. “I’m a weird bat or something…”

“Do bats have tails, Daisy?” Law cocks his head and looks at you, sitting on his office floor.

You begin to retort, but Law stops you.

“Do lizards have wings?” You hold eye contact with the doctor. 

“I…” 

“You showed me that this is the fruit you ate. You can’t argue with this anymore. We will proceed with training using this information. Get some rest. We continue tomorrow.” 

You nod and leave Law’s office. 

xx 

[just-1-scorpio]

Reading Asterion by Alessa Thron, so you don't have to. Chapter two and three.

This is a joint review made by me, and @wordsmithic . I try to do my best at showing parts of our conversetions about this book. Let's thank her for joining this review.

These two chapters were defenetly somthing. But let's start with a few positives.

wordsmithic: - The protagonist looks like she has a clear goal thus far, and she wants to avenge someone she loves

- I am kind of invested in her killing a difficult target, although Asterion will probably end up being the love interest instead of her target. (Which.... I am not too eager to see when those two are siblings in canon.)

- I kind of dig this assassins and spies cutthroat setting (but I don't think we will have it for long)

- Odd as it is, I also like a generic post-apocalyptic setting for Greece. (On the downside, we see little to no Greek culture, mannerisms and ways of speaking, so it doesn't feel like I'm seeing Greek people on the scenes)

And my positives are: -It was short.

-There was one line part that was unintenional funny. It's this:

So now let's get to the rest.

Chapter 3 starts right after starts right after chapter 2. The pithos tells Ariadne that she will recive a packige, and that she has a night to think abiut accepting the commision. So she goas out to eat, and we meat her friend Dimmi, and order some food. And here is where we started getting questions.

wordsmithic: Here we get "saints" out of nowhere, without knowing what the religious situation of the country. For me it came out of nowhere. So, I suppose, the gods DO allow people to hold their old faith? How does this work??

scorpio: This is a good question. The world building so far is kind of messy, or at least unclear. Possably the people were allowed to keep their old faith. I assumed this too.

wordsmithic: I can't pinpoint why, but since meat is such a staple of Greek culture and cuisine, it doesn't make sense to have a strictly vegan diet for every single training assassin. I'm not saying that vegan diets contain no protein but if you want to support the muscles during extreme training meat is a great choice and it's weird they emitted that from the diet. I'm also not sure that it would be great to remove the salt completely but alas, I am not getting paid to analyze that diet more :p

Here I would add that, I looked up, seince then, and most diets that are recomended for training, usually have eather meat, or fish and eggs in them. Anyway. After the talk, Ariadne recives the packige, and goas up into her apartman.

wordsmithic: The writer seems to be under the impression that the espresso in Greece is like in Italy. Well, it is not. Drinking coffee here is a ritual and an espresso is larger, and takes approx. half an hour to drink normally

Then she learns who is her target, and it's Asterion Dys, who is an owner of a night club, where ilegal fights are held. And the reason why the police haven't done anything about it, is because Asterion is conected to the riches people of Stycs, including Hades, and because Hades owns shares in the busniss. Then Ariadne thinks about it, and goas to sleep. After a night of sleeping she wakes up to find fiels on the laptop, about Minos. So Ariadne accepts it.

And now, before we go to chapter 3, let's talk about the names.

wordsmithic: Alessa probably thought Dys sounded so cool, meanwhile it sounds like calling a Benedict "Be". Not to mention, "dys" is solely used as a prefix in Greek and it's not meant to be a whole word. It shows difficulty in doing something. You will recognize it from words like dysentery, disharmony, dyspraxia etc

wordsmithic: I hope "Dimmi" is not short for Dimitra because I will claw my eyes out. And later she calls her "Dim" which makes me want to say "what in the Anglophone hell is this"

scorpio: I had this question too. I looked up "Dimmi" on Behind the Name, and it had zero results.

wordsmithic: Yeah it's probably some anglo-sounding abbreviation... better than Dys tho :P

scorpio: I thought that it was a nickname, but then she called her "Dim", and I started questioning it. I can agree it's batter then that.

wordsmithic: It looks to me to be a nickname as well. She just changes it from Dimmi to Dim, I think. You can also say that you looked it up and found nothing. And people can correct us if they know it's something else

And now. On to chapter 3.

So Ariadne goas to the gym, then she goas to a building where acording to her intell, she can find Asterion in Mercedes Benz. Asterion arrives with two bodygourd, and is talking with a Christian priest, about cherity, and giving money to the orphenige. And here is when we got more questions.

wordsmithic: The Christian hints continue but I would like to know how the old and new religion co-exist. Once polytheists tried to eradicate the Christians and vice-versa, and Christianity is the Greek ethnoreligion for almost two thousand years now. You can't just write "they co-exist" and call it a day. I beg you, Alessa, give us some decent worldbuilding! I like that she didn't completely ignore Greek Orthodoxy, though, like the overwhelming majority of writers out there.

wordsmithic: Asterion seems to discuss with a Christian priest, as well. So he has ties with Hades (as we'll see later) and he has Christian priests close? Again, I don't know what to make of this because I don't know how those two religions coexist. Even worse... now I fear that she kept Greece Christian but placed the gods in Greek society without changing anyone's faith. Which doesn't make sense because when people see an old deity of theirs descend from the skies and save their city, some of them are bound to consider returning to the old faith. Greece has a growing population of agnostics and atheists which may change their mind if they see a literal deity before them.

scorpio: I was questioning this too.

wordsmithic: the whole time reading I was 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷

scorpio: Why is Asterion someone who is close to Hades, is good terms with a Christian priest? So far the book just reads as a stereotypical Mafia romanc, that Alessa decided to add Greek mythgology into, withouth any consideration to how the presents of the Greek gods would affect on anything.

wordsmithic: Exactly! And why would the priest be on good terms with Asterion who is in good terms with Hades! Why is the priest like "ah sure, Hades rules all now" and doesn't see him as the Antichrist or something? I still have no idea what the city looks like. I don't understand why each district differs from the other, I don't know if there are Christian and Polytheist temples around, I am not sure how the people are dressed and what cars roam around - except from that one Mercedes Benz of course. "if there is no alluring Greek mafia, I am gonna make one, dammit, even if I have to raze the country to the ground" - her thoughts probably :p

scorpio: Yes! Also I can't get over the fect that she made the minotaur into just some generic handsome man.

wordsmithic: ooof exactly! you have GODS in this universe but not a half-man half-beast??

So then Ariadne bumps into him. They flirt a bit, then Asterion ends up inviting her to his club.

So yes. There are a lot of problems. The worldbuilding has intresting elements, but it's messy, and seems to be underdeveloped. And the more you think about the more questions you get. Which we may, or may not get answears to, and the answears that we already got seem to not make any sense, and just raise more questions.

One of those questions is why, and how? Why is Asterion just some guy, instead of having the head of a bull? Why doas he have to be Ariadne's love intrest? If you want to write romanc where Ariadne get's together with someone, then Dionysus is right to as a love intrest. How is this city, or world works?

Not to mention the sometimes wierd writing, that honestly remind me of Wattpad.

Let's hope those questions get answears later on, and the at least the city get's to be fleshed out.

Honestly. I just hope that Dionysus apears, and helps Ariadne escapes from this mess of a book. Honestly that would be a a good ending.

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART EIGHT)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7 - 8

notes: i feel that this chapter is very underwhelming bc i wrote it at work 🫡 so sorry

y/ndevils00

liked by siegenthaler34, nicohischier, and 32,542 others

y/ndevils00 hi people! thank you for tuning into tonight’s (brief) postgame recap! this is a very sad night for my favorite boys, as we lost 6-1 to the winnipeg jets.

we had a meager three penalties tonight!

starting off with erik, who has banned me from making any more name puns (boring!). erik got a penalty for tripping, bringing him up to an astounding 47 penalty minutes this season!

next, i’d like to bring your attention to jack’s picture. nothing special, i just like it.

and then, of course, we have my boyfriend again; chewing on his glove like a rabid little chihuahua <3

the next penalty was from siegs at the very end of the 1st period for high sticking! i had dawson do my dirty work for me and give him a very stern talking to during intermission!

next up, we have hershey bar looking very displeased, and i can’t say i blame him!

we got a little over halfway through 3rd period before we got the final penalty from the newest swiss, timo for holding! he took a lesson from my very rude boyfriend and hid behind the stanchion. i very much did not like that.

however, our lone goal came with SECONDS left in the game, scored by the captain himself! who still looked very disappointed to say the least.

and lastly, bff number 1 says i should apologize to bff number 2 for dissing him last night 😒 so we have a picture of marinara and i’m supposed to tell him that i’m proud of him (i’m not sure what for though? he didn’t do anything 🤷‍♀️)

tagged ehaula, jackhughes, siegenthaler34, nicohischier, tmeier96 and john.marino97

ehaula i know i asked you to stop but now it feels weird without the name puns

y/ndevils00 so….

ehaula so you can do the puns

y/ndevils00 OH THANK GOD! do you realize how hard it was to withhold from them?! it was torture!

ehaula it’s been one post

user18 i’ve become so used to the “haula” puns that i forgot who erik was for a second

siegenthaler34 i made my y/n post debut!

y/ndevils00 it could’ve been for a better reason…

nicohischier you weren’t even there but you still got 2 horrible photos of me

y/ndevils00 i have spies everywhere

nicohischier what does that even mean?

y/ndevils00 guess you’ll never know

jackhughes why?

y/ndevils00 why what? why do i praise you when you don’t appreciate it? i don’t know, you would think i would’ve learned by now

jackhughes no. why the 2nd picture? why do you like it? why call me a chihuahua?

y/ndevils00 i like it. your eyes are so pretty and blue. because you’re small and scrappy and chew on everything.

jackhughes i’m 5’11

y/ndevils00 sure you are honey

dougieham if you went just based off y/n’s posts and comments, i don’t think anyone would ever guess that her and marino are genuinely best friends

y/ndevils00 it’s called tough love <3

john.marino97 she’s evil

trevorzegras i’m forever grateful that i’m a duck so i’ll never be subjected to the torture you put these guys through

y/ndevils00 there’s always next trade szn 😈

trevorzegras the ducks would never trade me

y/ndevils00 i have friends in high places… watch your back zegras

tmeier96 hughesy told me to sit there before i went into the box. he didn’t tell me why but i guess now i know

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes do you not love me? do you not want to see me happy? this is why luke is my favorite

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 luke is your WHAT?

lhughes_06 @/y/ndevils00 i feel so special! thank you y/n/n!

john.marino97 i have multiple questions. starting with: why is DAWSON bff number 1? and i didn’t get a penalty so you could be proud of me for that???

y/ndevils00 i like him better. and that’s very true, however you didn’t get a goal or an assist either so….

dawson1417 translation: y/n holds you to a higher standard because she knows how well you play. she knows you can do better but she’s proud of you regardless.

john.marino97 @/dawson1417 well why doesn’t she say it like that? that’s kinda sweet!

y/ndevils00 emotions are for the weak

john.marino97 @/jackhughes i think your girlfriend is broken

jackhughes she just likes to seem tough on the internet. watch this 👀

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i love you so much sweet girl ❤️ i can’t wait to get home

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes i love you too, now come home!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 aww you miss me?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes sure, but also you lost your game which means you lost the bet and you have to give LSH her bath <3

[paddockbunny]

Two

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 3, 116 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, language, nudes being sent and received, slight female masturbation mention, I think that’s all… 💞Authors Note : Aria’s POV 🥰 thank you for the support on the last chapter folks! It means a lot!! If you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter not the one prior or anywhere else because it’s too hard to keep up with if it’s not all in the one place.

Aria

Fuck this day!

As soon as my shoes were kicked off I practically rushed toward the kitchen and hurriedly ripped open the tape that held closed one of the boxes sitting on the kitchen worktop, desperately trying to find a wine glass for the bottle of wine I purchased on my way home. God, this day needed to be over like, right now. The second a glass touched my fingertips I couldn’t have been anymore thankful that I got a twist cap wine so didn’t have to struggle trying to find a bottle opener. I watched as the gorgeous, beautiful ruby red liquid flowed easily from the thin neck of the bottle into the clear glass. A subconscious sigh left my lips at that moment. If I had thought this new job was going to be easy then boy was I wrong.

Pierre fucking Gasly. What a prick. He was so full of himself. Arrogance practically oozed out of him. It would have been laughable if he wasn’t so bloody misogynistic. My teeth ground together when I remembered how several times throughout the meeting he thought he was so sly but I caught him, each and every time he glanced at my boobs. Quickly, I swiped my large glass of wine off the counter and headed straight toward the sofa. I need to relax. Tension had been wracking my body all day. Even now, I could feel it in my shoulders, my neck, everywhere. As my head tipped back and I took another large swig of the alcoholic crimson merlot I spied my bag. It was laying on the floor with things practically bursting out of it. I really needed to get a larger one for all the shit I had to carry around with me now but shopping was low down on my priority list. However, the bag itself was not what caught my attention. My eyes honed straight in on the top of my new shiny work phone poking out of the inside pocket. A large part of my brain said fuck work while the other was already grasping hold of it after taking no more than a second to lunge for the object like it was giving out some weird siren call before I knew I was doing it. The recollection of Pierre’s resistance to give me his fucking passwords today played on my mind. Then it mixed with the memory of him smiling at his phone and asking if I’d “rather make it a threesome” as he left the shitty office they put me in - for the few weeks I needed it for before being stuck with the fucker for the whole year.

I took out the notepad Pierre had reluctantly wrote his passwords down in and opened up the freshly downloaded Instagram and Twitter apps ready to punch his details into. I had expected to eye roll when I read his passwords but actually they were just simple names and numbers which made very little sense to me.

Instagram:

Username : PierreGasly

Password : Pascale22/9/1996**PSG

Twitter:

Username : PierreGASLY

Password : 10Anthoine_Cate*7

I guessed they were probably family members and whatnot so it wasn’t really surprising. And I sipped more of my wine because I had a feeling I was going to need to brace myself for what I was going to read (and see). The moment I clicked on the little paper airplane arrow icon it suddenly dawned on me that if I had been asked to hand over my own passwords I would have immediately combed through everything and repeatedly hit delete, delete fucking delete. But this was Pierre Gasly. He wouldn’t have even considered deleting anything. He would be proud of all the conquests, one night stands and random faceless nudes he no doubt received and probably jerked off too because well, he was just that sort of person, wasn’t he? He presumably had them going back years and quite possibly enjoyed flicking through them sometimes just to get a kick from the girls that would physically throw themselves at him online in a desperate bid to get his attention. Perhaps sometimes it may have worked and he would have used his social media to arrange a hook-up where he would most likely forget the girls name by the following morning. That was the type of guy I was dealing with here.

Nothing particularly salacious could be found on his Twitter. There were a few suggestive comments here and there, which seemed to get some of his fans all hot and bothered. The one he had referred too today - the doggy comment that I really had to attempt not to pretend to vomit at - popped up and several more referring to things of a sexual nature most guys would have grown out of by 27. So I made a note to discuss keeping things a bit more respectable and PC in future. Digging a little deeper he had liked several racy, risqué tweets from other people (including fans) and again I had to jot down to tell him to reign his hormones in a little bit more than he was currently doing. Although, it wasn’t just the smutty natured comments Pierre had gone through and flung likes at freely. I managed to find tones of comments from journalists, insiders and general fans that were unsavoury toward Ocon (and a few aimed at the team) last season which was in no way going to be allowed now I had to keep an eye on him. It was exactly the type of stuff Alpine had an issue with and Pierre really needed to play ball before things became irreparable. I swigged another large sip from my glass as I finally went into his following list. Unsurprisingly, a couple of pornstars could be found amongst the hordes of sports personalities, brand sponsors and general celebrities. I ground my teeth a little and couldn’t help but note the type of adult actresses he was following - an insight into the type of girls he went for perhaps? Almost all were brunettes with big doe eyes, big lips and of course big boobs. They all seemed to be on younger side, y’know the type that could fake teenage babysitters and naughty neighbours next door. It was exactly what I would expect of Pierre. EXACTLY what I would expect. They were swiftly unfollowed and I felt like there was no way I could be prepared for switching to Instagram without a refill of my wine.

Pierre was most, prolific, shall we say on Instagram. His time spent scrolling on the app was very well known. His trigger happy thumb that fired out likes like hot dinners span a whole meme. “Liked by Pierre Gasly” was even on the back of t-shirts now. I didn’t need to deep dive on my research prior to meeting him to find out how addicted he was to the social media platform. It was one of the first things that popped up when I googled him. Initially I couldn’t help but laugh at this 27-year-old man being hooked to a silly little app but now after having met him, I could see why his juvenile brain would become dependant on the thoughtless validation. I went to the kitchen and refilled my quickly emptying glass with haste. The memory of Pierre being so guarded about his passwords sprung into my brain and so now I desperately wanted to know what he was hiding. I clicked on the bright coloured button with my thumb and smirked knowing how much he would hate this. But as I sat down, he was so conceited he actually wouldn’t hate it at all.

I flicked quickly down the interface. It was full of mostly drivers and brands. I raised my glass to my lips and took a swift drink when I reached a bikini clad model which was followed by another one. Both had been “liked by Pierre Gasly” and I found myself eye rolling, yet again. But this wouldn’t be what he was trying to stop me from gaining access too. After-all they probably all followed scantily clad women who frolicked around in hotel beds and beaches to pay their rent. My thumb hovered over the DM icon and sure it was fucking pathetic, but I felt a little bit of a rush finally allowing myself to tap it.

And I was certainly not disappointed. It was full of exactly what I knew it would be. Girls. There was the “you replied to “x”‘s story” amongst plenty “reacted to your story” & of course the “sent a photo”’s littered his DMs. Starting at the top, I decided to go through the most recent one first. It was from a @Jocelyn_S_Silva and the wine really didn’t prepare me. Jesus! That’s a lot of ass! I saw the little heart emoji at the side of it meaning Pierre clearly liked it and I let out a little bit of a sigh subconsciously. Girls really did send guys this type of stuff very openly and freely and honestly, it was going to be tough keeping him out of trouble if these were the kinds of DM’s he was happy to revcieve. Then the time it was sent caught my eye. Today at 1:33pm. He was with me at 1:33pm. He was in our meeting being a brat, a big headed idiot, a total chauvinist. I scrolled to the messages before and realised that was where he had come from and why he had been late. He had spent the night with this girl.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

I couldn’t help but feel a slight disgust wash over me so I tried to settle it with the carmine coloured liquid in my glass. Who was this girl anyway? I went back to view her profile. A Spanish influencer it seems. 200,000 followers, probably mostly male by the millions of bikini pictures she was posting. I mean if that was how she earned her money good for her, she had an amazing body and she would be best to use it before she loses it but she wasn’t good for Pierre’s image so there was a swift unfollowing and blocking of the bikini influencer (I mean, what the hell is a bikini influencer anyway?)

Then following on from her there was another bikini model from Italy who was clearly someone Pierre had taken on a date and hooked up with after seeing as the message was quite similar to Miss Jocelyn Silva’s. Pierre hadn’t replied to her so I deleted conversation before proceeding to unfollow and block. Next was some girl who had been a paddock guest but had a fairly slim IG if you discount all of the shopping pics. She had sent Pierre various shots of herself in various states of undress and I didn’t need to see much more. Delete, unfollow and block. There were a few conversations with guys I could gather were friends and other racing drivers like Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Then a few more conversations with girls that were extremely entertaining to read. Most were almost comically cringey and stereotypical moves all guys stuffed up their sleeves when talking to women. But one or two of his conversations were enough to make me raise my eyebrows. He was a natural flirt and some of these girls (the ones he seemed to like the most) he gave extra effort too. As I read “…I know you’ll shiver when I kiss down that beautiful neck” I could hear his confidence laced voice practically purring it. And then another girl got “God! I can’t wait to be between your thighs, making you cum all over my tongue” and that was when I had to devour all the remainder of my wine.

Listen, as much as Pierre Gasly was a monumental dick today - acting like he was king of the castle and as if I should fall on my knees for him upon sight alone - I couldn’t deny that the man was good looking. His slate grey, moody eyes sort of smouldered in a way most men would be jealous of. His penchant for smirking was so God damn infuriating that it was hard to conceal the fact that it did in fact work on me and I had to disguise how it actually managed to raise my temperature a little. And besides all else, the man oozed confidence like no one else I have ever met before. It exuded from him. Every single pore in his skin permeated an almost magnetic certitude that was hard not to get drunk off. Having now spent a few hours in his presence could almost understand why women found him utterly irresistible. Pierre had this seductive, alluring appeal that not many guys could mimic. It was so unbelievably natural to the man that several times today you had been amazed that he hadn’t been snapped up yet and found the right woman. After all, he seemed to be able to sleep with them no problem judging by his DMs.

For a brief moment, I really considered putting the phone down, running myself a bath and forgetting all about what my new job was. A glance toward the unpacked boxes and semi furnished flat reminded me of that. Fuck! This was all a step in the right direction but still not one I thought I would be taking. I glanced down at my fading tan and let out a long, laboured sigh. I miss the heat on my skin. The warmth of a beautiful November day back in Aus. My eyes flickered tightly shut and I was right back there. On the porch of the house overlooking the lush greenery and crystal clear swimming pool and right as I almost allowed myself to daydream one day I would be back there, I opened my eyes and the moment was over. The phone was still on in my hand when I looked back and allowed my eyes to focus on it. There’s no good thinking of the past. I click on the next conversation Pierre had been having with a girl and practically choked on the last drop of wine I had slowly tipped out of the glass.

It was a sent photo. From Pierre. Of PIERRE!

From the angle it was evident Pierre was lying down. The tanned, flexed muscles of his abdomen were right there on full display and a shaky, uncertain breath escaped passed my parted shocked lips. His chest hair was a light shade of brown that at this angle looked practically golden. And it continued down to cover the valley of his tight, taught stomach. I felt my mouth water slightly as it was very apparent Pierre liked feeling like a man if the defined “happy trail” was anything to go by. But it wasn’t his sculpted chest that had shock reverberating through my body.

Pierre was clad in a pair of very tight, possibly expensive, black boxers with a VERY obvious erection. The thin fabric was stretched almost to breaking to contain the hard on beneath and suddenly, it dawned on me why he was so unwilling to give me his passwords. But the fact he had hours to have deleted any of these dirty photographs made me wonder if he actually wanted me to see them. Now, that was very Pierre of him!

It was hard to look away from and even harder to will myself to click off. I could tell why Pierre was so smug all the time now. There was no denying he had to be well-endowed and he was clearly girthy. And fuck, he was so confident in his sexuality there wasn’t a chance he didn’t know how to use it. There had to be a reason all of these girls wanted more. This is so fucked! It’s Pierre for fucks sake! It’s Pierre! He’s the arrogant asshole I’ve only known a few hours. Get a fucking grip, Aria!

Then just as I caught the sound of my own trembling, unsteady breathing I felt a dull pulse like beating between my thighs that was unmistakable and I sighed. After all these months? Now? And Pierre?! This was a fucking shocker. Seriously? I thought I was broken. I thought I had turned this particular part of myself off like a leaky tap after, well after what, happened. But evidently the sight of Pierre Gasly’s hard on was all it took to turn it back on. For a minute I simply sat there and had to at least take this in. It wasn’t right. I had to be professional. I had to “look after” him. But it wasn’t like I was about to fuck him and probably a lot of other girls would feel this after finding a photo like that.

Fuck it!

I went with it. I allowed myself to use the moment. Utilise the feeling that was now coursing through my veins. I lay back on the sofa and placed the work phone down so I could use both of my hands to get my tight as hell work trousers undone. Guys did this all the time. They got off to their work colleagues and all that didn’t they? I lifted my leg up a little so I could get a good angle. Just go with it. And a long, steady breath flowed from my lips as I trailed the tips of my fingers down my body. I felt the hot air leaving my lungs against my fingertips as I started there. Then they passed down my throat, my neck, my collarbone and down my silk blouse covered breast caged in my lace bra underneath. My eyes closed slowly while my hand travelled down further. It brushed down my stomach and the little bare skin that had become exposed when I undone the trousers moments ago. With one inner push my fingers continued and pushed down into the elastic of the white cotton panties and I let myself think of the picture. Of Pierre’s picture. Of Pierre. And then the tips of my fingers brushed across where the darkening throbbing pulsing was coming from. God, Pierre’s mouth trailing down my neck would feel so good right now. His fingers could do this better.

Suddenly, I sit up straight. My hand retreating from my waist band instantly.

Fuck no!

No! Not happening! Absolutely not! No way in hell!

No matter how bad I need it, I will never get off on the thought of Pierre fucking Gasly! EVER!

TAG LIST!

@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @queenofshinigamis @kovalcin @genevieve-blr @mcmuppet @themockingjayreader

Thank-you too @the-lazy-leprechaun for helping develop the plot 🥰

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for —(and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: eek not a request but an idea that wouldn't leave me alone! thus... we embark on a mulan-esque story that i hope u will enjoy <3 big thank you's to @strangerstilinski who listened and helped immensely as i whittled a hunky idea down to a plot

word count: 2.9k

synopsis: Someone in the Illryians Mountains has been making a name for themselves— a bastard like Azriel and his brothers, ruffling the feathers of a war camp's Lords. But they seem to have no loyalty to the fighting legion, or much to anyone for that matter. fem!reader

— CHAPTER ONE :: STRANGERS

Frost was everywhere.

Despite all the eerie memories that tainted them, the Illyrian Mountains were hauntingly beautiful, even Azriel could admit that.

Pine trees stretched up tall, their timber trunks hidden beneath the snow-leaden branches. It was a sea of swirling frost. Snowflakes eddied down from the frozen sky, a soft blanket of white draped across the landscape.

He was sure that some, maybe the likes of Feyre and her artist's eye, could see that beauty easier than he could.

Beautiful, Azriel thought bitterly, but fucking freezing.

Normally, dealing with the likes of the war camps that riddled these mountains was left to Cassian. He had that raucous, fiery way about him that was far better suited to it. Enough pride to challenge the warriors and more than enough eager attitude to back his taunts if need be.

But Cassian was currently very much occupied— and highly unsuited to crack the whip against some rowdy Illyrians in his current state.

Azriel couldn't help the smile at the thought of when he'd last seen his brother.

Freshly mated Cassian looked as though he had tiny hearts circling around his head at all times. He resembled a puppy following his nose, always that wicked grin on his face as he trailed after Nesta. His adoration was impossible to miss.

Cassian had more than earned the time off. He deserved to celebrate properly, to have a couple weeks with no badgering worries, with no bickering Illyrian warriors to deal with (beyond his usual two).

So, as a mating gift to his brother —and partially to escape a house filled with intolerably mated couples— Azriel had taken over his duty temporarily. To oversee the war camps he detested so much.

Today, he was to investigate the rumoured stirrings amongst the camps and assess the level of threat it posed. More often than not, these sorts of stirrings were simply whispers of rebellion but nothing more.

There was an easy fix; a visit from one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history, or even from Rhys himself. It always made the Illyrians a little nervous and those whispers of a coup would sweep away with the wind in a matter of time.

This time, however, the network of spies that operated under Azriel had not come back spinning such rumours.

Instead, there was talk of Lords with ruffled feathers. Lords with bruised egos due to a single bastard warrior, rising in the ranks and not playing by the rules.

The familiarity of the situation was almost too ironic, Azriel thought. He had half a mind to tell Rhys what he had learned and leave them to it. Cauldron knew these brutal camps needed a bastard to challenge their ways from time to time.

But still, there was always the potential for such a warrior to pose a threat in the future. Azriel could not leave a possible danger to brew. No stone left unturned.

The snow beneath his boots was beginning to melt.

He had been standing in the cold and peering up at the war camp ahead, barely seen through the heavy snow falling, for too long now. Snow was gathering on his wings, tendrils of ice shooting through their sensitive membrane. Find the bastard.

Shaking off the snow, he began to walk.

—

Gods forsaken males and their egos.

The bone in your forearm ached, having taken the brunt of your initial fall in the mud. It's covered in it too, the muck of the ground that always seemed to linger. Always a layer of dirt beneath your fingernails. Truly, one of the many incredible appeals of the Illyrian mountains was never actually being clean.

You'd probably hate it more— if it didn't do such a good job of masking unwanted scents.

But right now with a jagged cut that tears up your left arm, all the way to the elbow, you're cursing the mud. It's likely festering with uncountable grim diseases. You'll have to flush the wound to properly clean it before it begins to heal.

That means water. That means energy that you don't particularly feel like summoning to fetch it. You cast your glance to the window.

Outside, the Mother's Kiss howls loudly.

The southerly chilled wind current that Illyrians don such a precious name is quite fitting for their backward ways — to expect a kiss from your mother to have such a sting on the face.

Tonight, the current seems particularly fierce. The windows of your shelter rattle in warning. A storm had blown through camp rather unexpectedly and you'd caught the worst of it, tangled up in a snarling fest against Brudam.

Brudam, who is responsible for the current state of your arm. Your lip curls at the mere thought of the arrogant male. Your wings bunch up tightly and you huff quietly to nobody.

He'd caught wind of the broth you had made that had filled the stomach of three ravenous bastards in the camp. It had been just enough to keep them on their feet. Tonight, you know that one hot meal might very well be the difference that helps them survive the night.

But Illyrians are a tough breed— and they don't take kindly to people giving handouts, as Brudam had put it.

You preferred the term leveling the playing field.

As if Brudam and his Lord father had ever experienced to ache of starvation. Ever had to sleep in the snow with nothing but their own wings for warmth against a blizzard.

Another deep pain twinges in your arm and you hiss, drawn out of your thoughts. If you have to pick your wins, you can at least admit you're glad he had only found out about the broth— and had seemed none the wiser to the healing tonics you were slipping the freshly-clipped girls.

It ached to see them and their quivering wings. The way the muscles in their backs buckled when they tried to spread their wings, a cut too deep into the wrong nerve. It ached to see it, yes, but beneath that pain was an ocean of bitter and furious fire.

But your righteous anger would not help these girls.

You were not the most proficient healer and the tonics you were attempting... it was hard to say if they would make any difference in saving any females' wings.

You were gathering knowledge as best you could though, scraping together herbs that scarcely grew in the frozen climate. It was a poor imitation of something that might work.

Whether it would be enough... that was up to the Mother. But you had to try.

You assess the wound on your arm once more, wondering about the reserve of water you had in your small hut— whether you could both clean your wound and have enough to hydrate.

Another glance out at the wintry snowscape outside. You grimaced. If you didn't, you would have to bear the blistering chill of the Mother's Kiss to get more.

Weariness weighs on your bones. You hadn't been prepared for the fight, hence your almost embarrassing injury, and it drained you more than you expected.

You stand with a sigh and drag your feet toward the tiny cauldron filled with melted snow collected earlier in the day. It hangs over the fireplace, the embers within long since snuffed out. Your motion stirs them up.

For a moment, you stare into the fireplace. The water in the cauldron shimmers. The shelter creaks around you, bending in the wind.

It's covered in soot, marred by the flames that usually lick it from beneath it. The lip of it, however, is still clean enough to see your own reflection. You peer into it.

And in that reflection, you find a tall figure with massive wings looming above their shoulders standing behind you.

Your heart spasms in shock and you have to swallow your gasp of surprise. Your eyes dart up, frantically hunting for a weapon. You grab the closest object you can, your hand closing around a kitchen fork. And before they get the chance, you twist and lunge, arm raised.

The floorboards groan as your boots slam into them, darting forward to attack. But the male dodges you easily, your strike passing through empty air.

You don't stop, turning and striking for him once again. The male sways back again easily to avoid your swing and you scowl.

Quickly feigning one way, you watch as his hands, weaponless, move to defend his gut — and you change direction, fast. Neck exposed, you snarl as you sink the fork deep into his shoulder.

The male hisses in pain.

You falter for a moment at the noise but it's a mistake. His hands move so fast you barely see them, gripping your wrist that holds the fork and twisting it down to the ground, immobilising you from using it.

You snarl again and tug against him fruitlessly. A swell of panic begins to rise within you as you tug again, again, again. His hold doesn't falter.

"Stop," The male commands you quietly.

This time when you tug, he opens his fingers and you fly back onto your ass, wings flaring out a moment too late to catch yourself.

You expect him to trudge forward, to beat an attack down on you now that you're less defended, but he doesn't move from his spot.

In fact, you realise as you stare at him, cheat heaving, he hasn't attacked you at all.

His weapons, which there are many of them, stay strapped to his side, glittering against the snow's reflected light. You spot the siphon on his hand, a churning sapphire colour — and clock the matching one on his other hand.

This was not just any Illyrian warrior in your home.

Faintly, your panic subsides as you realise that if this male meant to hurt you —to kill you— he very well could have done so by now.

You let your eyes trail up, taking in the face so hidden in shadow, and recognize that the darkness swirling around him is not ordinary shadow.

The revelation has you sitting up a bit straighter, the bindings around your chest pulling tight. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

What do you say to one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history —one who served on Rhysand's inner circle, friend of the High Lord of the Night Court— when you've just stabbed him with a fork?

As if your thought had reminded him, the male —Azriel, you know his name to be— shifts and reaches for the utensil still sticking out of his shoulder. He yanks it out without a noise of complaint.

Then he says, "Considering your choice of weapon, it's no surprise Brudam cut up your arm."

You scowl at him but at a closer look, you can see that his expression isn't condescending. No, with his raised brows, he almost looks... impressed.

"I wasn't expecting visitors." You bite back defensively.

Azriel's eyes dance with amusement. He throws the fork onto your table with a clatter. "That's how you greet visitors?"

"Uninvited ones, yes."

His amusement fades, the planes of his face shadowed and yet still handsome. Like most Illyrians, there's this incomprehensible sense of elegance to him, an alluring pull tied to his very demeanor.

But looking at him now, even in the dimness of your shelter, you could see Azriel went beyond to type of beauty that usual Illyrians had. An unparalleled grace, an unmatched Adonis.

He is the most beautiful male you had ever seen—and you had just stabbed him with a fork.

"Sorry," You mutter eventually when he doesn't say anything.

You shift onto your knees to stand, your hand coming to cup beneath your elbow— the ache of the injury had begun to bleed back in now that you weren't focused on fighting off an intruder.

"You're forgiven." He says. You can see lightly, through the dimming light, the faint blood on his neck you've caused.

"You fight well," He comments, with the air of a compliment. Something like amusement is in his eyes when he says, "Even with your unusual choice of weapon."

You glare at him as you climb to your feet and all but collapse into a chair. You don't even have another to offer to him. Buried beneath your leathers, your chest aches in pain — a reminder that it's been bound for far too long. You ignore it and tilt your chin towards him.

"Why are you here?"

You're actually sure that even if you offered Azriel a chair he wouldn't take it, given how stiffly he stands before you. He takes a moment to answer, his gaze flitting around the small room you both stand in. Calculating, categorizing.

"There were rumours of a warrior turning up trouble here."

He fixes his hazel-eyed gaze on you. You steel yourself beneath it. "A couple days in your camp and it became clear who the outlier was."

A couple days? For some reason, you can't believe that he's been surveying this place without detection from anyone. Another glance at his shadows, the dark masses that hang around his shoulders, and you can believe it a little more.

Besides, it's hardly as though the Lords would deign to tell a bastard like you anything important.

You clench your jaw but don't say anything.

"Brudam mentioned you feeding some warriors." Azriel continues, his tone unreadable. Though something, you couldn't tell what, glittered in his eyes. "Not very in the spirit of Illyrians."

You scowl at him again. Even if he had once faced these conditions before, you wondered if his time away, spent Cauldron knows where, had softened his memory.

"It's not against any law."

"No, it isn't," Azriel says. His eyes narrow. "But making healing tonics without a Healer's jurisdiction and selling them to young females is."

Your heart stops for just a moment. How could he know that? The last batch you had dropped off had been over a month ago.

Without thinking you snarl back, "I'm not selling them, you prick."

Something blooms on Azriel's face, surprise and a hint of smugness.

Your mouth snaps shut as you realise what you've done. You curse yourself. Slumping back in your chair, your wings sag with you and you let them droop onto the floor, uncaring. He could very well be here to kill you, given the knowledge of what you had just admitted.

For a long moment, there's just silence.

You stare at the floor and wonder which version of the High Lord is true; the Court of Nightmares whose power ripples through these camps and keeps them in line. Or the rumours of a softer side, a dreamer.

You wonder, more importantly, which of those this male before you is friends with.

Something in the floor creaks when Azriel finally moves. He crosses the room swiftly to the fireplace and gathers two logs from the stack of firewood beside it, tossing them onto the pile of ash.

You watch, perturbed, as he hunches over the fireplace for a quiet minute— and when he pulls back, a small flame is burning on the wood. It dances on the log, entrancing and amber-coloured.

Heat begins to fill the room. You pick your wings up and stretch them towards it, grateful for how they begin to warm. You hadn't quite realised the extent of your chill until right now.

It's such a kindness that hasn't been shown to you in many years. Surprise and silent gratitude bloom in your chest.

Azriel turns back to face you. You school your surprise away.

"What's your name?" He asks, his voice gruff.

It's been a while since anyone asked that either. Bastard. Mongrel. Imposter. There are a thousand other words that have become your name whilst growing up here.

You can't tell him your name. In the same way you can't tell anyone here your real name without revealing too much about yourself.

So you shorten it and tell him that instead.

Azriel nods. Doesn't repeat it, doesn't blink at your hesitance. Instead, he just says, "Like I said, you fight well. You could be better though."

You frown at the backhanded compliment, something in you sneering at the jab at your fighting skills. Worse, you know he's right.

If you had weapons suited to your size, exercises that focused on your agility more than your brute strength... There's a good reason you have to work twice as hard as every other warrior in camp.

Azriel looks at your arm, no longer bleeding and beginning to stitch itself up. Shit, you really need to clean that first.

"Clean that and get a good night's rest." He orders, not meanly. Then he crosses the space of your shelter in a few paces of his long legs, heading for the door.

"You—" The question dares to come out of you. "You're not going to turn me in?"

Azriel pauses, one hand, one scarred hand you can now see with the fire going, on the door. So, the rumours of that were true.

"No," He says lowly. He sees you staring, and as if on command, the shadows swirling around his shoulders dart down to cover his hands. They and the doorknob in his hand disappear from sight completely.

You evade your eyes back up to his hauntingly beautiful face. His expression is stony, unreadable. He stares at you for a long moment, the dancing fire reflected in his hazel eyes.

"I'm going to train you."

[NEXT PART: ALLIES]

[alphacentaurinebula]

Fanfic and Meta

My Fanfiction

You’re the Bad Guys (rated E, posting a chapter every Friday) - AU - Crowley and Aziraphale are Cold War spies on opposite sides in 1980s Berlin when a one night stand throws them into spy shenanigans of the highest order. Humour, intrigue and smut, plus a bit of angsty goodness. Oh, and it’s a romance.

What Are You Doing Here? (65K words, rated E) - post s2 - The Second Coming is ON, and Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to save the world with limited effectiveness, not least because their initial plan seems to be just having a lot of sex. Comedy, smut, a full-scale apocalypse plot, a tiny bit of angst and a whole lot of hijinks.

(Now complete!!!)

Bad Communication series (approx 15K words across the series, rated teen) - post s2 fix-it with a large dollop of humour - Nina, Maggie and Muriel give Crowley and Aziraphale a proper talking to about their poor communications skills. And then our ineffable idiots finally talk.

Bad Advice (up there with a suggestion box)

Bad Management (up there with not allowing questions)

Bad Communications (almost ineffably bad. But not quite)

My Meta

God is the Baddie

Status: Quo

I Forgive You: Queerness in Oppressive Systems

Poverty is Ineffable

Season 3 and the System

Celestial clothing pre- and post- fall

[queen--of--shadows]

A Formidable Pair: Part 1

Azriel x Reader

Summary: As spymaster to the Spring Court, the Reader meets her unfriendly match from the Night Court as they work together to train, rebuild and repair Court relations. 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 865

Notes: hi friends im back 🥲 first and foremost thank you to the anon who requested this! I love your prompts and had so much fun writing a short intro to this new series! I apologize for the unexpected hiatus—I had already written this chapter once before then lost all of my work when my laptop crashed 🥲🥲 anyways I hope you all enjoy! I aim to get the next chapter out sometime this week 🖤

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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

Sweat gathered and trickled down your neck as the thick, sweltering spring air weighed heavy with the creep of the afternoon sun. Winters in the Spring Court were enjoyable for the average female, a vacation spot even. But as a member of the Autumn Court, and despite your many years of serving the High Lord of Spring, you hated your posting here.

“Does that sound alright, Y/N?” Tamlin asked, his shoulder-length golden hair catching the light with a slight cock of his head.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, tilting your chin down, hands clasped tightly behind your back.

You had been trained for this since you could remember how to walk. Your parents, close friends of the Vanserra family, had recognized your talents from childhood and began lessons under the spymasters of the Autumn Court.

Bred for stealth, obedience, discipline, brutality, lethality.

You were unforgiving. Cold and distant. Like all good spymasters were.

Just like the Night Court spymaster, now standing at your side.

The High Lord of the Night Court’s lapdog.

Lucien had asked you weeks ago to serve as lead spy for a few months as they attempted to repair and rebuild not only physically, but also their relations with the other Courts and High Lords. You accepted, but not without letting Lucien know that he owed you big time. You hated being in the spotlight like this. And the deathly glare you snuck in before averting your gaze back to Tamlin served as a reminder to the handsome redhead, his mouth parted now in a wicked grin.

The past few months, you had been working as Spring Court emissary and spy, traveling to both the mortal lands and across Prythian to the other Courts on behalf of Tamlin to improve relations. Winter, Summer, Autumn, Day and Dawn.

But you hadn’t signed up to work alongside the Shadowsinger, his presence now like an oily stain to your left.

You had been avoiding the Night Court as long as possible. A war-mongering people, their long history of vicious brutality initially intrigued you, but their arrogance and ego, whether a front or not, were repulsive enough that you learned to stay away.

But the Winter Solstice Party was nearing, an invaluable opportunity to show that the People of Spring wanted peace. The trip up north became inevitable.

Rhysand and his spymaster had been visiting over the past week, traveling throughout the Court with Tamlin to learn how he had been rebuilding since Amarantha’s reign tore the entire southernmost lands of Prythian apart. You were praying to the Gods that he wouldn’t rope you into whatever political games he was playing. Still, to your dismay, Tamlin requested that you and the Shadowsinger train the new class of spies in the Spring Court over the next few days before heading north to attend the Solstice Party with Lucien.

If the shadows that nearly enveloped the tall male to your side were any indication of how he felt about being here, this next week would be absolutely miserable.

It wasn’t the bland mask hiding the killer underneath that bothered you. It wasn’t the shadows constantly whispering in his ears, nor was it his deadly, unrelenting gaze as he assessed you like a threat in your own Court. No, it was the haughty, pompous, self-important swagger, the fact that he hadn’t said more than two words to you since his arrival. You knew, just knew he considered himself a better spy than you.

That wouldn’t stand. No, that was going to change. You would shred his Illyrian pride to bits.

You kept your face neutral and didn’t let any emotions shine as you sketched a bow to your High Lord and made your way out to the training rings, sending a silent fuck you to Lucien, who still donned that wicked grin.

You heard the Shadowsinger muttering to Rhysand, likely receiving instructions from his High Lord about what information he wanted over the next week, before the violet-eyed male winnowed away. Then the near-silent footsteps trailing behind you.

He remained wordless as he followed, but his shadows indicated his presence, snaking along the floor lazily—a silent warning. You snorted.

“Is there a problem?”

You stopped in your tracks.

His words caught you off guard. Guttural and deep and dark, like the cold midnight sky given a voice.

You wiped any expression off your face, save for mild amusement, as you turned on your heel to face him.

“I’ve never met a spy that had to rely on anything other than their own wit and training,” you said sweetly. “Your…pets are interesting.” A dark, inky shadow circled you curiously, like a snake assessing its prey.

He pinned you with an icy, lethal stare—the mask of a trained killer, an Illyrian warrior.

A flicker of annoyance shone in his hazel eyes, glowing bright in the sunny rays streaming through the windows lining the halls of the manor.

He stalked quietly past you and out into the courtyard to the spies-in-training, his steps swift and precise.

Ice coated your veins at his dismissal.

You pushed against the rage threatening to lock up your limbs, following the winged asshole outside.

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

taglist: @cute-baby-ducks @brekkershadowsinger @iangelofmusic @j-pendragonx @foggypeanutmongeroaf @luckypersonmentality @eddiesbixch696 @davinaclaire16 @lexie1o9 @thewarriormoon @halfmeltedcandles @cartoonnerdgirl @wrensical003 @abigailrose98 @cafe-inaaa @moonlightazriel @caosfanblr @redbleedingrose @lovebookie123 @sarahstone217 @minetticatinwonderland @jtargs @bookish-dream @blurredlamplight @rellik181 @simplywitchy @his-sweet-nightmare @theravenphoenix26 @icantthinkofanythingplease @sebby-staan @brooke3132 @azriels-angels @mrs-azriel @sparklymiraclecheesecake @cityofidek @dreambeliever13 @atlascorriganlovescookies @fo-cus @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @elenas-safe-spot @dreambeliever13 @mysticalcheescakemiracle @marina468

[aloneinthehellfire]

saw my tumblr notification for your previous anon and OH MY FUCKING HELL I WOULD LOOOOOVE TO GET THE BATHROOM SCENE FROM STEVE’S POV 💖💖💖

I’ve already told you before that your writing is STELLAR and I know that no matter what you write, it’ll be absolute gold. *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏻

I have to say also that GOH is absolutely KILLING ME in the best ways. love love love the slow burn and the mystery behind what’s been happening in the latest chapters, aaaaa. :’) keep up the amazing work, my friend, and please make sure that you take breaks should you need them!! 💕

I got a lot of requests for this so I hope my anons find this one &lt;3

RAINING HELLFIRE (READER'S VERSION)

Word Count: 3672

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of torture

Set in RH3: Chapter 12: Uncle Jack

Find all Raining Hellfire works here <3

Summary: While you try and find your previously abandoned radio in hopes of contacting help, Steve and Robin slip away from their cinema experience to end up in the bathroom, sharing truths about their lives they never admitted before.

[A/N: Welcome to our new little series I am calling 'Raining Hellfire (Reader's Version)' where you can request a scene that I either hadn't written into RH originally or a POV of a different character :) shout out to the nonnie that suggested this &lt;3]

RH3: STEVE'S EPIPHANY

“The ceiling stopped spinning for me.”

Robin’s voice echoed out as Steve flushes away his latest creation, stomach lurching while he wipes away the clinging spit.

“Is it still spinning for you?”

Steve rests his back against a ceramic tiled wall and tilts his head upwards. He focuses for a second.

“Holy shit.” He sounds, still feeling light-headed. “No. You think we puked it all up?”

“Maybe.” Robin says from the cubicle beside his. “Ask me something. Interrogate me.”

“Okay. Interrogate you, sure.” He tries to straighten himself a little, ignoring the dull pain in his face. “Um… When was the last time you, uh… peed your pants?”

“Today.” She responds quickly, voice airy.

“What?” Steve smirks.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.”

“Oh my god.” Steve chuckles and Robin laughs.

“It was just a little bit though.” She giggles and Steve shakes his head in amusement.

“Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.” He mutters, rubbing the eye that hadn’t been battered by Russian spies. Of course Dustin’s brilliant plan involved yet another concussion.

“All right, my turn.” Robin announces after her laughter died down, a smile in her voice.

“Okay, hit me.” His head was starting to throb and he was seriously missing his truth serum right about now.

“Have you… ever been in love?”

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” He says, not really putting much thought into the answer. He imitates a gun with his fingers and shoots at his heart.

“Oh my god.” He could practically hear Robin’s eye roll. “She’s such a priss.”

“Hm.” Steve nods, remembering a time when he thought the same. “Turns out, not really.”

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

“No.”

A wave of shock struck him when he answered without a thought, reeling in his own response. Was he really over her?

“Why not?”

This time, his thoughts are swirling around like the ice-cream machine they rarely ever used, clouding his eyes with one image. One very specific image. And he smiles.

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He chuckles. “It’s crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, you know, you gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie...”

Steve blinks and the image reappears again. Dustin’s rant about Steve finding love had never left his mind.

“Uh, I guess I don’t totally know what I’m looking for.” Steve states, staring through the binoculars and being anything but covert. But Dustin could be on to something and he desperately needed a break from slinging ice-creams all day.

“Evil Russians.” Dustin replies simply and he roll his eyes.

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve nods, “I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like.”

“Tall. Blonde. Not smiling.” Dustin offers as Steve continues to navigate the binoculars. “Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”

“Right, duffel bags.” Steve repeats. He takes another moment before letting out a breath. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“Anna Jacobi’s talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky.” Steve complains, staring as she cosies up to the worst player he ever teamed with in his life.

“Dude, if you’re not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars.”

“Aw, Jesus Christ,” Steve continues, ignoring the boy next to him, “Whatever happened to standards? I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench.”

“Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” Dustin reaches out and snatches away the binoculars, resulting in a small fight as Steve struggled with the strap around his neck.

When Dustin won the binocular war, he places the binoculars in front of his eyes. “I don’t get why you’re looking at girls, anyway. You have the perfect one in front of you.”

“Seriously,” Steve sighs, already knowing where he’s going, “If you say Y/n again-”

“Y/n.” Dustin says anyway.

“No, don’t. No.”

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.”

“Stop, no.”

“Y/n.” Dustin repeats over and over before throwing a curveball. “Robin?”

“No- Robin?” Steve raises his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Right.” Dustin nods. “‘Cause you like Y/n.”

“I don’t-” Steve takes a breath, noticing Dustin’s unimpressed look. “No, man, she’s not my type. She’s not even… in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?”

“What’s your type again?” Dustin asks with a side-eye. “Not awesome?”

“Thank you.” Steve sarcastically smiles, suddenly wondering where you were right now. You had said something about spending the day with Max and El, but that was all he had heard from you since last night. He remembered that smile you had given him before you drove off, a small wave as you promised to catch up on the ‘little Russian espionage’ later.

“Hm, right.” Dustin smirked and Steve looked back to him. “That lovesick face says it all.”

“I’m not-” Steve lets out a frustrated sigh. “She’s not my type, okay? Just friends.”

“Let’s see.” Dustin lowers the binoculars to count on his fingers. “Funny? Check. Smart? Check. Pretty? Double check.”

“Still in love with her ex? Check.” Steve says and Dustin’s face falls.

“What? No.” He pouts and Steve nods.

“Yeah, well. Good for him.” He looks ahead, trying not to think about how much that hurt him.

“At least you’re not in high school anymore.” Dustin shrugs and Steve looks at him.

“How has that got anything to do with anything?”

“Look, Steve.” Dustin gestures to the mall in front of them and Steve looks… confused. Dustin sighs. “There’s a whole world of girls out there. Instead of dating somebody you think’s gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around? Like me and Suzie.”

“Yeah, you mean, ‘hotter than Phoebe Cates’. Yeah, that Suzie.” Steve recalls with a snarky tone, “And, uh, let’s think about- how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend? Oh, yeah. With my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give you the advice, you follow through. Not the other way around, all right, pea-brain?”

“And how’s your advice working for you?” Dustin challenges, his eyes narrowing in his own amusement.

“Wait, who’s Suzie?” Robin asks and snaps him back into the moment. He blinks, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend.” He shakes his head, trying to push away the growing beating of his brain against his skull. “To be honest with you, I’m not 100% sure she’s even real.”

“But that’s not- that’s not really the point. The point is this girl, you know, the one that I like, it’s somebody that I… I lost touch with in school. And I don’t even know why.” Steve continues, sighing. “Maybe ‘cause Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me or… I wouldn’t be… prom king. It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should have been hanging out with this girl the whole time. First of all she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like ever since last November, I have laughed harder than I have laughed… in a really long time. And- and she’s the only person in this whole world I feel like will understand me, you know? Not judge me.”

“Really?” Robin chirps up with a smile in her voice. “Sounds like she loves being around you.”

“Yeah...” Steve’s face slowly falls.

Steve closes the space, resting his head against your forehead. His heart raced faster as he pushed aside his fear. “I love you, Y/n.”

When you don’t respond, he moves his body closer, lifting his head to search your face for something to give him hope. “Please, say something.”

Every second you didn’t react was agony. He could see the tear trickling down your cheek, his brows furrowing.

And then you reached out, placing your hands over his. That little jolt of electricity, the one that give him hope, the one that never failed.

Until now.

You gently unclasp his hand and take your keys, never raising your head, never meeting his eyes.

“I..” You start, lips squeezing together. “I don’t feel the same way about you. Never have. Never… never will.”

Steve feels his entire soul shatter into a thousand pieces.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you turn from him, getting in your car without so much as a second glance.

He’s stood there, paralysed in his own heartbreak. He thought… you and him…

How could he have been so stupid?

“Steve?” Robin calls out and he clears his throat.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He nods, rubbing his eye. “It’s just… I thought, you know, this girl was… everything. And…”

“And?”

“And she wasn’t even real.” He spoke, lowering his head. “I really should have taken Dustin’s advice. The kid knows zilch about love but… but he knows people better than I do sometimes. Told me Nancy was out of my league. Not in a bad way just, like…”

“Like you weren’t meant to be together?” She suggests and Steve hums.

“Yeah, exactly.” He laughs after a moment, “You ever… you ever had that?”

He rubs his face again, looking to the cubicle wall that separated them. She’s being quiet and he frowns, tapping on the plastic. “Robin? Robin, did you just OD in there?”

“No.” She finally says, sighing. “I… am still alive.”

“Did I say something wrong?” He asks and she lets out another sigh.

After another block of silence, he can’t take it anymore and scoots over to the wall, gripping onto the underside and pulling himself through, slow enough to avoid crashing into Robin on the other side. He decided it best to ignore how wet the floor felt on his back.

“The floor’s disgusting.” She comments as he sits back up, facing his friend.

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He waves his hands, brushing it away. “What do you think?”

“About?” She blinks, but he knows she’s aware.

“Destined to fail romances?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You ever had that with a guy before?”

“Something like that.” She says and he groans.

“Come on, you don’t have to be all mysterious.” He laughs, nudging her knee with his. “I can tell when you’re being weird, I’ve known you-”

“That’s it. You don’t.” She interrupts, brows knitted. When he frowns, she bites her lip and leans forward. “Look… you don’t really know me. And if you did, like – like really know me… I don’t think you’d even want to be my friend.”

“No, that’s not true, no way is that true-”

“Listen to me, Steve. It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends.” She shakes her head. “I’m not even… I don’t…”

Steve leans forward, “What’s going on?”

“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?” Robin questions and he slowly nods. “It isn’t because I had a crush on you.”

He blinks, holding his breath. Now he felt really foolish for even thinking it.

“It’s because…” She continues, and he keeps his silence. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs Click?” He frowns in confusion and she laughs, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Tammy Thompson.” She finally says, nodding. “I wanted her to look at me. But… she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And I watched you fall in love Freshman year with a girl you ended up treating like shit because you wanted to be a douchebag. And- And you didn’t even like Tammy Thompson and… and I would go home and just scream into my pillow.”

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.” Steve shook his head, the drug still wavy in his brain.

“Steve.” Robin says softly and he slowly feels his face fall, realisation finally hitting him in a moment of clarity.

“Oh.” He finally sounds, blinking.

“Oh.” She repeats, laughing sadly.

“Holy shit.” He leans back. Talk about deja vu.

Steve didn’t realise how silent he was being. It wasn’t because of shock or hatred or anything like that. It was because he was taken back to Skull Rock all over again. Sat beside you. Your fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt, a scared look in your eye. The relief on your face when he said he didn’t care who you liked, just who you were. A happiness in your trust.

That shattered image when you found out he had taken that trust for granted.

He didn’t want it to be like that this time. No wrong words, no broken promises. He didn’t want to make anyone feel that destroyed ever again.

“Steve… did you OD over there?”

“No, I just, uh… just thinking.” He slowly nods, “I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but… I mean, she’s a total dud.”

“She is not.”

“Yes she is. She wants to be, like, a singer. She wants to move to, like, Nashville and shit.”

“She has dreams.” Robin tries but he’s shaking his head.

“She can’t even hold a tune.” He expresses, trying to think of a descriptor. “She’s practically tone-deaf. Have you heard her?”

As Robin laughs, he mimics Tammy’s voice in the school choir, making it as nasally as he could.

“She does not sound like that-”

“She sounds exactly like that. That’s a great impression of her.”

“You sound like a Muppet.” Robin comments and Steve laughs.

“She sounds like a Muppet. She sounds like a Muppet giving birth.” Steve chuckles and Robin can’t help but agree, giggling. “Literally ask anyone, ask Y/n, she was there. It was an hour of torture, like, even the Russians couldn’t beat that.”

“Okay, okay.” Robin clutches her stomach, shaking her head. “You’re right, okay? She sounds horrible.”

“Thank you.” He grins, head resting against the wall, “You could do so much better.”

“Like Y/n?”

Steve practically jolts, eyes wide. How did she know? Did he tell her? Was he rambling about it and didn’t realise? When did-

“Steve.” She smiles, tilting her head. “I know who ‘the girl’ is, I’m not dumb.”

He mentally lets out a sigh of relief before focusing on her comment. “It’s not… I don’t know.”

“God, you two are in love with eachother.” She scoffs, meeting his unconvinced eyes. “Seriously. It’s suffocating being around you two, it’s flirt city.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Steve sighs.

“No shit, there’s no way I’m going back to work after that, they don’t pay me enough to be interrogated by secret-”

“No, Robin, I mean me and Y/n.” He says quickly and she stops, frowning. He sighs again. “It… there wasn’t…”

When he couldn’t find the words, Robin leaned forward.

“What happened between you two anyway?” Robin prompts and he furrows his brows, shaking his head.

“What-”

“Last night. Or… heck, I don’t know how long it’s been.” She shrugs. “When Y/n ran out. After that really intense moment of her talking about being taken advantage of – which I totally agree with her by the way- but... she was clearly upset about something. And you followed her. But when you came back…”

She takes a breath.

“You looked…”

“I looked?” He asks, stomach churning.

“Heart-broken.”

“I don’t feel the same way about you. Never have. Never… never will.”

“There.” She points at his face and he bats her finger away. “Right there. That look.”

He covers his face with a groan, resting his head in his hands.

“I mean… if there would be any time to open up to me, it would definitely be after I just told you I’m a lesbian.” She snickers and he can’t resist the laugh, “Don’t tell me… you’re also gay?”

“No.” He chuckles and she smiles, leaning back. “But I am definitely going to be alone for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t believe that.” She scrunches her face as if the thought was stupid. “You’re Steve Harrington. Any girl would be fantasising about spending their life with you.”

“Not the one that matters.” He admits quietly and she straightens, her eyes wide. Steve takes a breath. “When I caught up to her…”

“Please, say something.”

“… I…” He sighs, rubbing his face. “God, I am an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I told her I loved her.” He finally blurts, wincing at the silence that ensued.

“Woah.” She comments, nodding slowly. He simply nods with her, eyes fixed on the black mark staining the wall behind her. “And I’m guessing she didn’t…”

“No.” He purses his lips, sniffing. “It’s fine, though. At least I know now, right? Won’t be… won’t be wondering that for the rest of my life.”

“She lied.”

His head whips up. “Uh, what?”

“She lied.” Robin repeats, looking serious. “I may have only just met her at the beginning of summer, but I like to think I know her. I see how she looks at you. I can even hear it in her voice when she talks about you and… and there’s a reason she hasn’t been dating anyone.”

“Because she’s still hung up about Eddie.” He sighs and she whacks his knee. “Ow!”

“No, dingus! Because she’s hung up about you!” She exclaims, “God, you are both so oblivious, it actually hurts.”

Steve rubs his knee, shaking his head. “She still likes Eddie.”

“And yet, she chose you.” Robin expresses with her hands and he frowns.

“What do you mean she chose me?”

“Because of the-” Her face falls. Either she was going to puke again or she had just realised something important because her skin started to pale a shade. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“No, Robin, tell me.” He inches forward slightly, eyes wide. “Because of what?”

She bites her lips, obviously trying to hold something in.

“She told you something, didn’t she?” He interrogates, watching her face go paler from the strain of keeping a secret. “What didn’t she tell me? Robin. Robin!”

And with that, she snaps.

“You’re kinda maybe one of the reasons she and Eddie aren’t together anymore but it’s also not your fault ‘cause there was no trust between them in the end anyway, and she was never going to let your friendship die again especially since you guys apparently went through so much together last year and she’s already lost you twice because of some petty arguments or something like that so she decided to let Eddie go so she could keep you because out of everyone, you make her feel the happiest she has in a really long time.”

Robin takes a long breath as she physically deflates against the wall, chest rising heavily.

“If she ever asks… it took a lot more than that to get me to spill.” She grimaces, waiting for his reaction.

You had never told him why you and Eddie broke up. Not truly. He remembers the first time you told him, sat on a bench outside the high school, your eyes threatening tears. You told him that you think you broke Eddie’s heart, but you weren’t ready to talk then. Ever since, you just alluded to the idea that you weren’t right for eachother, that it was better for you both to be apart. Never did you admit it was because of Steve.

And now he was conflicted. How should he be feeling about this? Angry? Confused? Sad?

“How am I… the reason?” He asks softly, fixated on his shoelaces.

“I don’t know the full details.” Robin says, “But I know that she has to love you too.”

“Rob-”

“No, just listen.” She interrupts and he takes a breath, meeting her eyes. “Don’t give up. Considering all the weird shit that just happened back there, and the fact that neither of you seem at all phased by the fact we were tortured by Russians living underneath us, I can only assume that she had a lot going on. Give her time, okay? Take it from someone who has an exceptionally sad life of watching other people fall in love, you two are made for eachother.”

“Right.” Steve nods before shaking his head again. “What if she meant it? That she didn’t… what if-”

Robin lets out a groan. “Just stop being a dingus and take my advice.”

“Not sure how I feel about taking advice from someone who had a crush on Tammy Thompson.” He retorts and she looks offended.

“Wha- hey!”

“We’ll be holding on forever!” Steve imitates Kermit the Frog and she buries her face in her hands, laughing.

The bathroom door bursts open and two kids walk in, one looking severely pissed at Steve.

“Okay, what the hell?!” Dustin frowns, hands on hips.

Steve draws his eyes back to Robin’s and they burst into laughter again, uncontrollably.

“It’s not funny!” Dustin stresses, only making them laugh harder. He shoots a glare at Steve before Erica steps forward.

“Y/n is missing!” She shouts and the two finally quit their giggling.

“What?” Steve chuckles, unsure if he heard her right.

“Y/n went looking for help about twenty minutes ago.” Dustin explains, and Steve’s heart races faster. “And she hasn’t come back.”

“So we better stop chit-chatting like little girls at a sleepover and get the hell out of here before the Russians find us.” Erica remarks, rolling her eyes when nobody moves. “Now.”

“Wait.” Steve scrambles to his feet, Robin slowly but surely following his action. “Y/n-where- where did she go?”

“Her radio.” Dustin sighs, pulling a face when Steve shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, we don’t have time to explain everything to you, she went out to get her radio but she hasn’t come back.”

“Let’s go, we’ll find her later.” Erica stresses, already opening the door and motioning for them to get out.

“I’m not leaving this mall without her.” Steve promises, wiping his lip and heading for the door, more determined than ever.

if you would like to request a new pov scene for the Raining Hellfire universe, please feel free to put it into my ask box and I'll get to it when I am available :)