#there's a light a certain kind of light that's never shown on me

[howifeltabouthim]

There was light somewhere, cool precious light, somewhere quite else.

Iris Murdoch, from A Fairly Honourable Defeat

[bravesaboteur]

The more I think about it, the more Laios and Falin's different perceptions of their parents are a case of "same parents, different childhood".

Whenever someone asks Laios about his and Falin's family, he comments on how they treated Falin but never comments about how how their childhood affected him - in fact, he kind of glosses over it. It's Falin that everyone is rallying to save, it's Falin that's Marcille's friend, it's Falin that everyone has a positive opinion of - he's just the weirdo brother that gets to share some of her light sometimes. He's the one who's only tolerated when he's useful in a dungeon. Falin's treatment is a large part of the reason that he left, but it's the symptom of a larger issue.

When we see Laios' thoughts of his parents in his nightmares, it's all about the expectations that he's supposed to live up to: the expectation to stop being "childish", the expectation to get married (to who his parents picked) and have children, the expectation to take over from his father as the village chief, the expectation to adapt to something that he isn't able to be in the way that people want him to. And these are all things that he has had to be told in some way: he had to be told that Shuro didn't like him, he had to be told that told that the gold-peelers were taking advantage of him - these aren't thoughts that just appeared on their own, these are all failures that someone has explicitly pointed out to him and they haunt him. Some of the things he considers his biggest failures are his failure to provide for and protect Falin and those have very tangible examples he can point to.

We get a glimpse of what happens when he fails to live up to his father's expectations when Falin is born. He expects a certain reaction from Laios and when he fails to give that reaction he physically puts him down, dismisses him, and underestimates how much he understands.

And that's something that's shown to be a bit of a sore point for him - people thinking that he doesn't understand something because he doesn't express himself like people expect. The few times we see him snap at people are because people think he isn't understanding something because he isn't reacting "normally".

On Falin's side, the expectations seem to be a lot different - she's the younger one, for one, she's a girl, and she was so young when the fallout from her having magic happened. She too had an arranged engagement, but that was broken off when she was sent away to magic school and since then, their parents only seem to be passively involved in her life. She's mostly been freed of the expectations that their parents had for her in her village - she won't be coming back after all. She understands why they sent her away, she wasn't completely oblivious to the villagers treatment of her and it was, arguably, for the best so she is at peace with what their relationship is for now. But she still wants to go to her hometown and see for herself with adult eyes because she has never really had the space to do that.

I don't think their parents are inherently evil people - the truth is probably somewhere between Laios and Falin's version of the story, Laios' side tinged by too much cynicism and Falin's by too much naivete.

It just strikes me that when he tried to provide the "normal" way he failed, but given the space to do something similar to what people expected of him, but in his own way, he succeeded. He isn't perfect but his efforts are ultimately fruitful and he is able to carve out a place for himself, Falin, and others who had been ostracized like them to call home.

[mrsshabana]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x gender!neutral!reader, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 800 words. I wrote this just now, I wasn't planning on writing for him so soon but I couldn't help myself. I hope those of you that know of him enjoy it. ♡

It all started at those stupid abandoned apartments. Your friends dared you to go in, and for some reason you did it. Sure it was spooky inside but there really wasn't any threat. Only when you got lost and wandered around the building for hours, trying to find an exit. 

While you were in the building you felt like someone was watching you. Occasionally spotting a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, or hearing the sound of something shuffling on the floor. 

However, even after you left the building, you still felt like someone was watching you—every second of every day. This feeling was stronger while you were at home, but it would linger out in public, too. 

It was strongest though when you were trying to go to sleep. In your bedroom, with the lights off, and no sound but the night outside your window. You tried to ignore it, not let it get to you, but you'd be lying if you said it hadn't kept you awake most nights. Only falling asleep when your fatigue was too much to ignore. 

And tonight was no different. You lay in your bed desperately trying to get some rest but the feeling of someone else in your room keeps you awake. 

“You okay?” a strange voice calls to you from the darkness. You have no idea what it said but you're certain you couldn't have imagined the sound. 

You shoot up from your bed to see where the sound came from, but you don't see anyone. 

“H-Hello?” you mutter in a shaky voice.

Suddenly a head pops up from beside your bed, “Hello!” A high-pitched giggle emits from the creature's mouth, a sound that doesn't match its appearance. 

The head rises, and it grips the side of your bed with cold-looking hands. Pulling itself onto the bed with its arms instead of standing up and climbing on normally. 

You scream at the sight, instinctively backing away.

The creature frowns, “You scared?” it says as it retreats slightly, “Me sorry.” It has an apologetic tone in its voice, but it's speaking some kind of language you're unable to understand.

It doesn't come closer, staying at a distance so as to not startle you further. As the panic slowly subsides, you take a closer look at the creature. 

It looks like a man, but his hair is extremely long. Stark black and has a silky straight texture - hanging in front of his face and covering his eyes. Though you can see blood on his skin where it looks like his eyes should be. His skin is pale grey, and void of any warmth. And his clothes, though hard to see since he hasn't stood yet, appear to be a tattered black Yukata perhaps? 

He stares back at you with a wide grin. It's that smile that makes him look creepy and inhuman. Though not entirely unfriendly. 

“Wh-who are you?” you whimper, “What do you want?”

He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy. It seems like he doesn't understand what you're saying. 

“Me not hurt you,” he smiles, reaching out his hand to pat your head. 

You flinch at his touch, not sure what he just said or what his intentions are. Though he doesn't seem malicious. He may look scary but he hasn't shown any hostility when he's certainly had the opportunity to. 

“Um,” you try to think of what to say to him, “Are you the one that's been watching me?”

“...?” he tilts his head again.

“N-Never mind,” you smile awkwardly, “Erm, I'm going to go to sleep, ok? You can sleep on the couch if you want to stay…”

You put your hands together and make a sleeping motion on your pillow, trying to tell him you want to sleep. 

“Rest?” he looks at the pillow then back to you, “Alright. We rest!”

With a smile he lays his head on the pillow next to yours, looking at you expectantly. 

“N-No! I mean - you can sleep on the couch, not in my bed!” 

He just smiles, your words going in one ear and out the other. 

“Ok, fine,” you sigh and lay down beside him, “You can sleep here I guess…”

You try to sleep, but you can feel him staring at you. And when you open your eyes to see that wide smile of his, it doesn't help. So you turn around, facing your back to him. “G-Goodnight,” you mutter. 

“You rest bed… Me rest bed,” he mumbles, “Me grateful.”

You don't know what he just said, but for some reason, you feel safer with him by your side. Who or what he is is still a mystery. For all you know, this could just be another dream.

But a part of you really hopes that it isn't…

[elysiansparadise]

My experience with some synastry aspects/overlays

🩶His Moon in my 7th house (#1): I still remember it sometimes, that way a smile would appear on my face at his mere presence. I perceived him as eccentric as he was very different from me, but he had a certain charm. He awakened a warm side in me that at the time I did not know how to understand or handle. But what I did know is that I wanted his happiness, whether it was with me or not. We both loved each other very much, I would dare to say that in the purest way that I have ever loved someone and although there were ups and downs and it did not turn out as planned, I will always wish him the best and I will remember him with warmth in my chest.

🩶Her Moon in my 7th house (#2): She was a sweetheart, she had a light charm and charisma that enchanted many people no matter how different they were from her. Her company made me feel comfortable and she was someone who spoke about her emotions in a balanced and even tender way. I felt very protective of her and that she felt okay in every way, I even remember putting off some tasks to spend time with her because I genuinely appreciated spending time with her. One of my closest bestfriends.

🩶Her stellium (Sun, Mars, Mercury & Venus) in my 12th house: I feel very lucky to have met her in this life, she became my safe place and someone I know I can count on regardless of distance or other factors. I think we reflect a lot on a subconscious level and I see in her aspects of my personality [obviously linked to the signs in which her stellium is]. She makes me feel seen and accepted, I know she will never judge me and she has shown me with actions that I can rely on her. I feel like we connect a lot and can understand each other deeply. She is without a doubt one of my best friends and knows that whenever she needs me I can offer her comfort, advice or support. 

🩶His Venus in my 12th house: It was a bit tense, mostly because he has very tense aspects in his chart. Throughout this connection I knew that he loved me the way he knew how to love, although that did not mean that he loved me well or how I wanted him to love me. The energy of the 12th house makes me understand things, even empathize, but it does not mean that they are justified. It was conjunct to my Rising, and I experienced this seeing how he prioritized me a lot and despite being someone who was not affectionate, he was affectionate with me. However, many times because of this difference in ways of loving, I felt his absence. 

🩶Their Mars in my 3rd house: I have to admit... debating with them [I have experienced this overlay several times] was stimulating and even a bit exciting at times. There was a certain tension between us and I never experienced big arguments with them, everything remained a playful banter. They told me that they were very attracted to the way I spoke, from my voice to mannerisms. They put a lot of emphasis on my knowledge about what I liked and how my voice caught their attention. 

🩶His Jupiter in my 7th house: Husband material. It is the most summarized way of explaining it, but I saw this man as someone I would have liked to marry in the future, beyond feelings (which there were) it was a matter of admiration and looking up at him, his ideals, his way of acting. It felt more like a decision than a whim or impulse to want to be with him.

🩶Her Mars in my 10th house: She was my crush [platonic love?]. I truly adored her very much. The way she carried herself and her strong, reliable and reserved appearance that she portrayed attractive to me. I really like the confidence with which she carries herself and she always behaved very nice and kind to me, becoming protective. She had a tendency to baby me though and being incredibly sweet to me [perhaps her Venus in my 4th house]. A strong attraction and support. [Scorpio + Leo energy]

🩶His Mars conjunct my Moon: He was the first person I liked. I would say that it was a strong attraction since we met, although it was not always easy. We used to clash at times, him being more irascible and me being more lighthearted. What was very present is that we always wanted to be close to each other, we used to spend a lot of time together and could be very possessive of each other [and his Moon in Scorpio + lots of tense aspects didn't help much either]. 

🩶Her Mars square my Mars: There was some tension between us, I think she was much more impulsive than me and reacted defensively. She was very direct with me, with her affection, attraction and even when there were differences or she disagreed, being a positive point. It was very intense and we were definitely very different. She was never aggressive or disrespectful to me, but she had very intense ways of reacting when she got angry with other people and of course, I didn't like that. It should be added that she also had the Moon in Scorpio and afflicted.

🩶Her Saturn trine my Venus: She was always loyal and constant with me. She wasn't very verbal but she gave me gifts and details. Her way of showing affection or pampering me was with things she knew I liked or fulfilling whims I had. She was capable of spending hours searching for the perfect gift for me and more than once offered to help me pay for large expenses that I had to make. Definitely a lot of provider energy.

🩶Her Saturn conjunct my Moon: She is one of my best friends, I always tell her that she helps me know how to better manage my emotional crises, that she gives me comfort and security and she tells me that I give her warmth. I believe that we bring a lot of positivity to each other, there is no judgment between us and we help each other as much as we can. We have been friends for several years now and sometimes we forget that there is an age gap between us. I have always thought that she is rather practical and straight to the point, and that is one of the reasons why I feel safe with her. I have always wanted to provide her with emotional support and comfort. 

🩶His Jupiter conjunct my Rising: One of the funny things with him is that he usually does things behind my back to help me, but when we are together we basically tease/argue with each other, most likely because this conjunction happens while his Jupiter falls in my 12th house. He has done a lot of good things for me, from opportunities for professional internships to even inviting me out to hang out or taking me to my favorite places. We always make each other laugh, especially me whenever I’m in the mood. And I've noticed that no matter how tense we are, we can forget a little about it when we chat or spend time together.

🩶Her Moon conjunct my Sun: She has always been very protective of me, always looking out for my well-being when we are together and making sure I am comfortable and happy. We have been friends for more than 10 years and she lets me talk about my emotions when I feel low, or even if what I say is something trivial. She is very gentle with me and likes to 'nurture' my independence and self-expression. There is a strong emotional bond between us, even from the first moment. We used to be inseparable when we lived nearby and even after I moved away, I usually go visit her.

🩶His Moon conjunct my Uranus: He's a good friend of mine, we tend to have a lot of fun, we've been on some crazy adventures together and we've even traveled together [we even missed a flight once]. We are quite different, while he is more given to creating connections everywhere, I am rather independent and even a bit of a hermit sometimes. Despite that, we love each other a lot and provide emotional support if necessary. I have noticed that we compensate each other, if one is being more emotional, the other behaves rationally [even blurting out truths in a very cold manner]. We can go days without speaking [up to weeks] and when we see each other we catch up and talk as if nothing happened.

🩶His Mars opposite my Saturn: I feel that on many occasions he tries to behave when he is with me, many times I am even the one who has a cool head when he explodes or when he is being irascible. When we have to work together we are a great team, we even organize ourselves quite well and we have similar ethics. However, the problem comes when we hang out for a long time, since I perceive him as someone who does not want to change and someone who is generally difficult to live with. His impulsive nature and the way he behaves makes me put some distance between us, even if we can keep things cordial.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Unwanted (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You're in love with Agatha. It's too bad she's in love with someone else.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Unrequited love, angst

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme @grilledcheeseandguavajelly

You’d always wondered what Agatha in love would look like. You’d just never wanted to find out like this.

The Witch’s Road was meant to help you regain your powers, to come into your own, to stop feeling so god damned weak and vulnerable at all times. Instead, you were feeling smaller than ever, doing your best not to let the shadows pull you under. If you didn’t have to keep fighting for your life, it would be so easy to let the darkness have you.

But alas, the Road kept trying to kill you and so you were putting all your energy into not dying as you watched Agatha with the woman you were certain she was in love with.

You’d laugh if it wasn’t so pathetic.

When she’d shown up at your door, demanding you join her coven, you’d felt special. The great Agatha Harkness was hand picking you. She wanted you. You were important. So you’d said yes without putting any thought into the decision like the idiot you were.

There was no reason to still be in love with her. She’d popped in and out of your life for years now, showing up when you least expected it. The first time, when you were still young, too young to be given much notice by her, she’d swept into your town and dazzled you. Her power was extraordinary. She held confidence in her body like it was a lover. She’d winked at you and you’d known your life was changed forever.

Every time you caught so much as a glimpse of her through the years it sent your heart careening through your body, your pulse thrumming, breathless and wanting. You followed her career as much as you could. You’d heard the rumours, you knew what other witches said, and yet you couldn’t make yourself care. There was something about her, a blackhole dragging you in, the gravity you fell into, the body you revolved around.

So this trip should have been a good thing. Hours spent in her presence, showing how capable and competent you were as a witch, winning her over, it was your chance. Your chance to show her the kind of person you were and maybe impress her.

You had never been given over to flights of fancy. You knew enough to not get your hopes up. There was no fantasy that she’d see you in a new light and fall in love with you so completely that she’d drop everything and want to be with you. But there was a chance she might see something she liked or was intriguing or made her want to know more. And that could snowball down the line into something more than vague recognition of your existence.

So when Sharon had been killed and Rio had clawed her way out of the ground, you couldn’t have known you’d be watching that dream fall apart so completely.

“Who do you think she is really?” Jen asked, watching as Rio followed Agatha around a bend until you couldn’t see them anymore.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Alice asked.

“But don’t you want to know the details?” she asked, making it sound as if she was discussing the latest celebrity gossip, “how they got like this?”

“You could ask,” Alice said.

“As if they’d tell us the truth,” she scoffed.

You sunk down, shoulders curling, watching the point the two women had disappeared from view. There was a sick impulse to follow them, to spy, to force yourself to watch the way you would never be enough. She had someone. Her heart was full. There was no space for you.

“I bet they have some pretty kinky sex,” Jen said.

“Excuse me,” you said, standing.

It wasn’t that you were purposefully making your way towards them. You just needed to get away from the conversation Jen was trying to have. The ache in your chest beat in time with your heart, a constant wound you worried at only making it worse. Your footsteps led you away from the fire.

That scar thing had really gotten to you. The words mixed with the image of Agatha’s face, so beautiful, but going through such an emotional journey, was overlayed in your brain as you walked. You knew you could never say anything so romantic, nothing that could encapsulate such a deep love story, never experiencing that with her.

And the worst thing was you could understand it. Rio was something special. You only had to look at her to know. She was everything you wish you could be. You couldn’t even blame Agatha for being in love with her.

You don’t mean to stumble into whatever was going on with them. Frozen, you stared, far enough away that you can’t hear the words whispered to each other, but close enough to see the way Agatha reached for Rio’s face, the way she purposely shared air with her. Your stomach roiled and all you wanted was to turn away but you were unable to. You were rooted to the spot, forced to watch the only woman you’d ever loved love someone else.

Your fingertips tingled, your breathing grew shallow, your skin felt hot. It was almost like floating behind your own eyeballs, staring out at the world but not quite a part of it. The ache in your chest became something more acute, spreading out through your veins until every inch of you hurt. One touch would undo you. This moment would undo you. A strong enough wind would blow you away on the breeze. You were coming apart at the seams.

Long fingered hands fell from soft cheeks, drawing away, the expression heartbroken and angry and everything you never wanted to see on her face. She stepped past Rio, leaving her there.

Only then her eyes alighted on you and a wave of shame went crashed into you. Her face tightened, expression harding. You flinched back.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

Then you spun on your heels and fled.

Gasping for breath, you slumped down further down the road, somewhere no one could find you, somewhere you could be alone to try and paste your heart back together. Burying your head in your hands, all you could see was the way Agatha had reached for Rio, the tilt of her head, the obvious intent behind the action. Maybe it would be better if you let yourself sink below the Road. It would hurt less than this moment.

“Some things are not for us.”

Looking up, the tears clinging to your eyelashes turned the figure blurry. The bright cardigan was enough for you to know, but when Lilia settled beside you, you still wished it was someone else. Someone with blue eyes and dark hair and an inscrutable expression.

You truly were pathetic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said.

“The heart wants things we know would be bad for us. I’ve had plenty of love affairs I knew would end in tears when they began,” she said, “this is one moment in time and there will be others.”

“There won’t,” you said then cursed yourself for confirming everything you hadn’t said.

“Of course there will,” she said like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“She’s been the only one my entire life,” you said.

She considered you for a moment, eyes narrowing, eyebrows pulling together.

“You’ve got to pull yourself together,” she said, “pretty thing like you? You can do better than the witch killer.”

“It’s not about doing better. It’s about wanting her,” you said.

Warm hands cupped your cheeks, turning you towards her. You wanted to pull away, to shake your head, to not let someone see so much of you. You’d carried this flame for so long, holding it close to your heart, protecting it from being blown out. No one had seen it, keeping it to yourself in a misguided attempt to keep your heart beating in time with the flickering light of your love. Instead, you dropped your gaze to your lap, hoping she wouldn’t see.

“If we survive, you must let her go,” she said, “you are tearing yourself into tiny pieces all for the sake of a woman who only sees you as a means to an end.”

“How? How do I do that?” you asked.

It felt like an impossible task.

“Accept how you feel then release it out into the universe. Stop holding on to it so tightly,” she said, “accept that you exist beyond these feelings. That you are more than them.”

“How do I rewrite the only truth I’ve had since I was a teenager?” you asked.

“You’re not rewriting. You’re evolving.”

She let your face go as another tear slipped free. Her fingertips caught it, brushing the wetness from the skin of your cheek. Taking in a deep shuddering breath, you finally let yourself meet her gaze.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

“All the important things scare us,” she said, “you’re strong enough to do it anyway.”

“How do you know?” You needed to hear it.

“You’re still here. You’re still walking the Road. Under the pressure you’re not cracking. You’re turning into a diamond,” she said.

“Not coal?” you asked.

“You’re not going to burn yourself out,” she said.

“Is that a prophecy?” you asked, finally letting yourself smile.

“No,” she said, “it’s just common sense.”

She stood, offering you a hand. You took it, letting her pull you to your feet. Returning to the fire, you sat in the spot you’d vacated. Jen offered you a smile and Alice passed you the flask she’d been drinking out of.

It might not be what you’d thought you’d get from walking the Witch’s Road, but maybe you were building something better. Maybe you’d come out of this adventure with a coven. A family. And maybe that was the love you really needed.

[vxmpyree]

NIKTO BEING SWEET AND SMITTEN WITH HIS SPOUSE ?!?!?!!? PLEASE 🙏❤️🙏🙏🙏 I SHALL BE DOWN ON MY KNEES WAITING SIRE PLEASE AND THANK YOU

omg my first ask :D! yap about pining nikto ♡ ♡ if i portray DID in a way that’s wrong/offensive, please let me know

[ join me in death - HIM ]

sometimes, nikto is not present.

he will sit next to you, yes, but it is not always him. the two of you could be sitting down over hot pelmeni. the next thing he knows he’s “waking up” to you laying on his chest, tracing soft shapes into the bulging muscle of his bicep as you whisper about something completely foreign to him. 

the other parts of nikto are not opposed to you being his choice of partner. some of them like you just as much as he does, indulging in your slow, well-meaning touches. but when a certain alter fronts, he comes back to find you refusing to even look at him with your bleary eyes. when you notice that it’s him again, you reach out to hold him, mumbling about the things they said and did.

he loves to sit by your side as you watch russian cartoons or soap operas, repeating what they say beneath your breath as you jot down new words. sometimes, he'll pick on you and pretend that he can't hear you or that you said a word terribly wrong, having you scrambling to defend yourself.

when he is at work, things are different. he cannot be merciful and tender like he is with you with the enemy.

sometimes, it’s hard for him to switch out of that cold headspace. he swats your open arms away as he tracks mud into the home, not caring to answer your forlorn calls. it isn’t until hours later, just before you’re about to go to bed, that he reaches out with a gentle hand. you fold every time, never holding it against him. you are just the amount of quick to forgive and understanding that he needs.

the way he gushes over you is insufferable to his team. when they aren’t hard at work, he’s reading letters from you over and over, showing them your pathetic attempt at russian. it’s cute to him, the slants where they shouldn’t be and unclosed circles. but you have shown that learning about his culture matters, so it does not feel insincere or lazy.

you are too kind to nikto. it is difficult for him to look at you when you beam at him, hands covered in flour as you make him blinis. from scratch! you found a different way to make fucking blinis all because he doesn’t like sourdough. 

as strange as it feels for nikto to acknowledge it, you love him. at first, he was in denial. those hot meals accompanied by light touches for him to fall asleep to could be casual. he’s seen people go above and beyond, only to pin it as something light-hearted and simple. after you said it for the umpteenth time, he started to consider that maybe you did love him.

nikto seldom says that he loves you. he does not bother chatting your ear off about how he feels. that’s your job; unless you tell him things in explicit detail, he doesn't know. no, he’s more for lifting you because something is a little too high in the cabinet, or fixing your wobbly desk leg. and if he really feels that you need a reminder of how much he loves you, he will whisper it to you in tow of a quick kiss or tight hug.

[kawoala]

⁝ KUROO TETSURO 𝜗𝜚 boxer! kuroo 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 851

ᰔ content warning ; profanity 、 blood 、 boxer! kuroo 、 implied rich girl! reader 、 kindof poor boy x rich girl? 、 boxer! lev 、 mention of gambling?? (yaku, what r u doing my brother?).

you’ve never been to a club like this; the people here are a stark contrast to your personality.

whereas they are dark, broody, drugged-out criminals probably raised in trailer parks and trap houses, you were raised to be a good girl with perfect grades - and to never, ever go near drugs or alcohol.

whereas the people around you are dirty, wearing clothes they probably haven’t changed in a week, you’re careful of the people around you, careful not get dirt and muck on your very expensive shirt and your very tiny skirt.

but, you fell in love with kuroo.

four months ago, when your calculus teacher had shown interest in kuroo’s horrible math grades, she’d emailed you, asking if you would be able to tutor him until his grades improved. and of course you said yes because you’re a sucker for extra credit.

and then he was charming and he was funny and he was smart - something you hadn’t expected because, well, you were his tutor. every time you had a session, he made you laugh like it was his job.

so, of course you fell in love with him. and of course you only found out that he was in an illegal boxing ring until after you had confessed to him.

which is how you ended up here; standing in a crowd of criminals, watching your boyfriend beat the shit out of one of his friends for fun.

your brows are furrowed as lev - of all people - throws a right hook, resulting in a line of blood dribbling down kuroo’s upper lip. he’s hot, that’s for certain, but this is not making you happy. your boyfriend's pretty face is getting all messed up.

you blink and then lev is on the floor, sitting with his legs bent, forearms resting against his knees. there’s a smile on his face, despite the blood oozing from his… mouth? nose? you can’t even tell.

and then your eyes drift to kuroo, who’s holding his fists up in victory. you briefly note that they’re not even using gloves, but that thought is dismissed when you lock eyes with your boyfriend.

he’s bleeding, which would make you upset if he didn’t look so fucking hot. there’s a sheen of sweat covering his whole body, shining in the overhead light. his hair is messy - messier than usual, matted to his forehead from sweat. he still has his mouthguard in, but he’s grinning wide as ever. he points to you and winks and your knees are weak.

“lev lost!” yaku exclaims from beside you, knocking you from your trance. you turn to him and tilt your head. “he fucking lost! oh my god, i just lost so much money.”

he puts his head in his hands and curses again, which only makes you laugh. you can’t believe this is a thing that people bet on. and, no offense, but you can’t believe people bet on lev winning.

next thing you know, you’re sitting on a bench in the locker room of the grimy club, bouncing your leg as you watch kuroo unwrap his fists. your eyes are glued to his hands, bloodied and bruised.

“did you have fun?”

you look up to find him staring down at you, lazy smirk on his face. “what? o- oh, um, yeah, it was…” you trail off, eyes drifting down to your now ruined shoes. you hum. “it was kind of… scary, actually.” you can hear him stop moving, so you keep talking. “watching you get hit like that? yeah, that sucked. i mean, don’t get me wrong, you looked really fucking hot, but…” you shrug, sighing.

there’s a silence that hangs in the air. you can tell he’s trying to decide if he should be funny or genuine.

“y/n,” he says slowly. his shoes come into your field of vision, but you know if you look up, you’ll probably start crying. “hey, come on, sweets, look at me.”

as soon as you look up, his hands cup your face and he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

when he pulls away, he smiles softly. “i’m okay. you know that right?” you nod and he laughs, pulling you into a hug, smashing your face into his stomach. “i’m okay. you hear me, lady? i’m alright.”

you laugh now, too, pushing away from him playfully. “ugh, i hate you!” you exclaim as he loosens his grip. the smile on his face lets you know that he knows you don’t really mean it. and, of course, you don’t.

he stares at you for a moment longer before jerking his head towards the door. “come on, let’s get out of here. we can go get ice cream or something.”

“ice cream?” you repeat, raising a brow. you stand up, not even reaching his nose. “and what are we going to do when the worker sees your busted lip and freshly bruised eye, hm?”

he inhales, puffing his chest out, holding his breath. he exhales on a laugh, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “yeah, we’ll go through the drive-thru, ‘kay?”

[solbaby7]

Falling Into You

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, possible typos, sexual themes, violence, blood, angsty but there’s also fluff

summary: A certain Shadowsinger stumbling into love with a woman and all of her many, many secrets.

part 2 to Tripping Over You

[ before you ask, this will become a mini-series ]

—

Days of chaste touches turned into nights of hushed conversations around a crackling fire wearing nothing more than those sorry excuse for night clothes and your hair free from its ponytail. Weeks of getting to know each other; first kisses and second and a third until there were too many to count—too many times pushed up in come corner cloaked by shadows with tongues touching and hands roaming past the respectable limitations but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

Every touch was burning hot, igniting a flame so uncontrollable he looked past a few warning signs. The sneaking out at the witching hour with Amren and returning before the sun came up with a fresh glow to your skin and insatiable energy to burn. The mumbled comments about “still getting used to this body” when you’d stumble or lose your grip on your silverware at dinner. You never talked much about your past; something he could probably understand if it weren’t for the way your eyes would darken when he’d push the topic a touch too hard.

All of it, Azriel ignored for the sake of feeling—of having someone to anticipate coming home to and always finding folded love notes with feminine handwriting and a lip mark stained at the bottom shoved in random pockets and fighting leathers for him to find. “You’re staring,” Rhysand points out, a glass of whiskey in his grasp and his free hand was shoved in his pocket. “—and it’s not the good kind.”

“I think she’s hiding something from me.”

The High Lord raises a brow, amethyst eyes scanning the sitting area where the others were; Fey and Cass were hunched in the corner, giggling over the wine they’d smuggled as they filled their glasses to the brim. Mor and Nesta were arguing over something while you and Amren leaned into one another, watching the girls with bright amusement in your eyes as you mumbled commentary back and forth. “Things are still new—there’s bound to be a few skeletons in the closet.” Az hums in agreement but doesn’t offer more information, not about what he’d observed because your laugh was like music, a symphony of flutes and string instruments all playing in such perfect synchronization that deep magic long forgotten rose to get a glimpse of who was behind it.

“You’re right,” The shadowsinger gives in too easily, captivated by the way you light up when your gaze shifts to him, a blush forming when you catch him already looking and Az can’t even remember the conversation anymore when you beckon him closer.

Rhys lingers behind, observing the way you leaned into the spymaster and the love that shown in your eyes was undeniable. Hushed words and shared laughs, hands trailing up the length of your arm, fingers that pull hair from your shoulder to make room for the kisses he placed there. Seemingly perfect if it weren’t for Amren’s watchful eye on the whole thing, otherworldly features scrunching up at the sight of you and Azriel but she shakes it away.

“Rhys,” Feyre calls out, steps wobbly and cheeks flushed from all the wine. “Get over here.”

That night, you don’t leave with Ren.

Staying back with Az tangled in his sheets, lips swollen and cheeks hurting from smiling so much when strong arms cage you to the mattress. He’s shirtless; sweatpants hanging low on his hips and the soft material of your nightgown shifts up your thighs when he settles between them. “I really like this—really like you too,” Azriel mumbles between kisses up the length of your neck, leaving marks and dragging his nose along your frantic pulse. The fire crackled at the other end of his room, a golden glow stretched across the room as you melted in his touch. “I know we’ve been moving a little fast; getting so caught up in the chemistry between us that we haven’t really talking about a few things.”

“Yeah?” You’re breathless, arching into the warmth of the half-naked body above you and the slow drag of his lips trailing the line of your jaw. “Like what?”

“Like whatever secrets you’ve been keeping with Amren.” He feels the way your body stiffens beneath him but he doesn’t let it stop him from staking his claim on every inch of skin he could possibly touch. “I won’t push—not now, but you’ll have to tell me eventually.”

There's an audible gulp, your hands shaky when they rest at his sides but you can't find it in you to form words, only managing a nod and the chaos of your mind calms when he keeps kissing and nipping and tracing the tip of his tongue around the curve of your ear.

Azriel doesn't bring it up again.

Not when you stop sneaking out altogether, waking up every morning with your hair splayed across the pillows and legs tangled in his own. Not when there's obvious tension between you and Armen, her tugging you off into a separate room before breakfast and Ariel can't help but linger close by, shadows slinking under the door to catch a glimpse of her scolding you, shouting at you about the dangers of what you were doing and his confusion only grows. "Ren, I really like him."

"Enough to risk everything?"

There's silence and your head hangs, brows furrowed in frustration as the truth in her words weigh you down.

"I won't let anything happen to him. I just—" Your voice drops so low even the shadows can barely pick up on them but the plea glistening in your eyes says more than any string of sentences. "He makes me so happy, Ren—more than I ever thought was possible for me. Why can't l get a little happiness to? Haven't I given enough?"

Amren softens, eyes clenching and she has to turn her back to you to compose herself. "Of course, but you know that’s not up for me to decide." She rests her weight against the desk, both arms outstretched before her and dark hair hangs past her shoulders. Nothing is said for a while but when she finally does, you shift completely; that steely darkness that would settle into your features when he prodded too hard. You looked regal, utter power radiating from your stance as you glared at your best friend over the bridge of your nose—you looked like Rhys, shifting from a friend to a High Lord. "I have orders—"

"Then, let me offer you a few more." Azriel's brow raises as the authoritative tone, the way Amren can't seem to meet your eye and gone was the stumbling woman with sheepish smiles and butterfly bandages stuck to her knees. In her place stood someone with a voice, a backbone and dare he said it—but the power and the authority to command whatever you damn well pleased. "You get to have your boyfriend, I get to have mine and you keep your mouth shut about it should anyone ask you any questions the next time you're due to report back to Titus." The step you take towards her, finger pointing at her chest; the hint of fear that darts across her unique features. “And I swear to the Mother above, Amren, if you fucking say a word about any of this to him—"

Amren dips her head, words clipped but utterly respectful. "Understood. As you wish."

Azriel’s gone before the two of you leave the room and when you find him waiting at the table, seat open to his right as he poured you a cup of tea. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, Ren’s just been pissed I keep bailing on her.”

You’re pouring honey and stirring when he slowly asks, “What do you guys do that late anyway?”

“Honestly, it’s mainly a lot of training; this form adapts differently to the fighting style I’m used to and she’s been helping me.”

His brows furrow, jaw working over a steaming pancake and you’re suddenly grateful for how loud Cassian is; not even nine in the morning and he was already laughing deeply, offering jokes and quick quips that has the rest of the Inner Circle snorting over their eggs; too occupied to notice the spymaster trying to decipher a small piece of a much bigger picture. “This form?”

“My form,” You easily correct, a hand reaching out to cup the back of his neck, fingers scratching soothing lines into soft strands of inky hair and he melts like butter under your touch. “Ren thinks I could give your General a run for his money.”

“Yeah, right.” Cass scoffs, mouth full of bacon and eggs, syrup stuck in a clump on a piece of his hair and you can’t fight the growing smile, the giddy grins from the others as the challenge settles in the air. “You’re like a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet, I’d end you in seconds.”

Amren makes a face, fork scraping against her plate. “I wouldn’t be so sure; she’s quick on her feet.”

He slams a heavy hand on the table, a goading grin growing and he’s quick to inhale the remnants of his plate. “Hurry up, Bambi; I’m ready to win my bragging rights for the day.”

Azriel seems hesitant, watching the others place their bets and rush to finish eating. His grip on your hand is tighter than usual when the whole group settles at the sparring ring and Cass is already inside, shirt off and hair tied in a bun at the nape of his neck. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Have a little faith; you’d be surprised by some of the tricks I have hiding up my sleeve.”

He squints at the words, golden irises locked on you as you saunter forward and Az can’t help but admire the tight training clothes you’d changed into. You radiate pure confidence when you enter the ring, already sizing Cass up and making mental notes of whatever you’d assessed about him. “I swear I’ll go easy on you.”

Cassian scoffs and as if a flip was switched; the playful male she once knew shifted into a warrior, lunching forwards with the speed of a panther but you don’t panic. Azriel is transfixed on the way you move, dodging attacks with such ease it begins to look like you’re dancing; light on your feet and impressively aware of everything around you. Cass changes his tactics and a punch that should’ve surprised you is blocked by a strong forearm and you’re landing a kick to his side of his ribs faster than lightening.

It sobers him, the brief pain that lingers a few minutes after the initial contact and the others watch as Cassian really begins to focus. Strong attacks are sent your way in quick succession, a flurry of punches and harsh swings, legs swiping out in attempts to stumble you but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, Azriel swears he catches a hint of a smirk growing on Amren’s face, grey eyes filled with pride and excitement.

Each move is done with such grace and the High Lady actually gasps in surprise when you use Cassian’s own body against him; stepping on the muscle just above his knee in order to hoist your body up and your legs are draped over his shoulders. For a split second you look down on him before swinging your upper body down, head slipping between his legs and your hands brace on the ground as your legs heave to flip the giant of a man over. On his back, wind briefly knocked out of him, Cassian grunts in astonishment, words breathy when he raises back to his feet but he’s looking at you differently; from head to toe like he’s noticing something he never did before. "How did you do that?"

You haven't even broken a sweat, an eye dropping to a wink. "Shall I show you once more?"

The others are laughing, changing their bets or adding more money to the pot as you and Cass keep on but Az just can't help but notice the way you fight is nothing like how he seen Amren fight first-hand in battle. "You taught her this?"

"Jealous?"

He shakes his head, tone dropping an octave and a breeze bristles through the material of his fighting leathers. "No,” You’re laughing at a frustrated Cassian in the ring, an arm locking his own behind his head and the General makes a passing comment about how alarming your strength was for your body. “But, I'm more than interested in joining a lesson or two—to gain perspective."

Amren goes rigid, slowly craning her neck to face him and the steely expression she bares is enough to have him hesitating; remembering a promise he’d made not to push on matters but he couldn’t help himself and Amren’s sudden change in attitude is the fuel to egg Az on further. "Perspective on what?"

Golden eyes gravitate back to you and the vague replies you give when Cassian asks where you’d been hiding such skill. “On her.”

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Hi! Its me again! I saw your requests were open and was just wondering if you could do one of our Orc Husband Pert'ah gifting us a haircharm/hairpiece hed made? Thank you so much for your time!

pert'ah (orc oc) drabble

this can be a part five to woven bonds or a standalone!

pert'ah gifts you a hairpeice, thats all it really is

warnings/tags: arranged marriage, orc x human, youre getting closer to him everyday

word count-466 words

The morning light filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting soft beams of sunshine across the small room you shared with Pert'ah. You sat near the window, absently running your fingers through your hair as you stared outside, watching the orc encampment slowly come to life. The sounds of heavy footsteps and gruff voices carried through the air, yet inside, it was quiet. Peaceful, even.

Pert'ah had left early, as he often did, to tend to his duties within the clan. You were still adjusting to this new life, far from the bustling human city you once called home. Every day, the walls of this small space pressed in on you, reminding you of the life you no longer had. You missed your freedom, your family—everything that was ripped away when your father traded you away like property.

The door creaked open, and Pert'ah’s heavy footsteps announced his return. You didn’t turn to face him right away, still trying to hold onto the small piece of yourself that refused to accept this situation. But you weren’t blind to the fact that he had never been cruel to you. In fact, despite his intimidating appearance and the circumstances of your union, Pert'ah had only ever shown you kindness—awkward, yes, but genuine.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and gruff as usual, though there was a certain softness in it when he spoke to you.

“Morning,” you replied, your tone flat but polite.

Pert'ah lingered by the doorway for a moment, and you heard the faint rustle of something in his hands. You risked a glance over your shoulder, your curiosity getting the better of you. He stood there, holding something small in his large, calloused hands, his eyes fixed on it as if he were working up the courage to speak.

“I… I have something,” he mumbled, taking a few slow steps toward you. His broken English was always a bit halting, but he tried his best to communicate clearly with you. “For you.”

You turned to face him more fully, your eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

Pert'ah hesitated, his thick fingers moving carefully as he extended a small object toward you. It gleamed faintly in the morning light—a hair charm, or perhaps a hairpiece, woven with intricate strands of silver and delicate beads that caught the sunlight. It looked almost too fragile for his hands to have crafted it.

“I made this,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting between the charm and your face. “For your hair. You… always touch it. Thought you would like something… special.”

You stared at the charm for a moment, unsure of how to respond. It was beautiful, finely made, and obviously took time and care to create. You never imagined that he would notice something so small—how you always fiddled with your hair, especially when you were anxious. The thought of him watching you so closely unsettled you, but the sincerity in his eyes tempered the discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, still processing the gesture. “Why did you make this for me?”

Pert'ah’s brow furrowed, his tusks jutting out slightly as he thought carefully about his words. “You… are part of my life now. I want you feel… more at ease here. This place, not easy for you. I know.” His voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “I thought… maybe this could help.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached out to take the charm from his hands. The metal was cool against your skin, the beads glinting softly. It was clear how much effort he had put into it, each detail meticulously crafted. You had never been given something so personal before, and the weight of that realization settled heavily in your chest.

“You made this… just for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes. Only for you.”

For a moment, you were speechless. You had spent so long building up walls between yourself and him, refusing to let him in, but this gesture—this simple, heartfelt gift—chipped away at those walls just a little. You could see now that Pert'ah wasn’t just your captor, wasn’t just the orc who had taken you from your old life. He was trying, in his own way, to make this new life bearable for you. Perhaps even… a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned the charm over in your hands, studying the way the silver strands twisted together in an intricate pattern. Then, slowly, you lifted it toward your hair, unsure of how to put it in place. Pert'ah noticed your hesitation and stepped closer, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as he reached toward you.

“May I?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting yours for permission.

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding in your chest as you nodded. He moved carefully, his fingers brushing against your hair as he slipped the charm into place. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t pull away. His movements were slow, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to hurt you.

“There,” he murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “It looks… beautiful.”

You reached up to touch the charm, your fingers grazing the beads that now sat neatly in your hair. A strange, unfamiliar warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment, at the realization that he had done something purely for you. You weren’t ready to forgive everything, or even accept your new life fully, but in this moment, you felt something shift between you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “It’s… really beautiful. I appreciate it.”

Pert'ah’s face lit up, a small, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “I am glad.”

As he turned to leave the room, you sat back down by the window, your fingers gently playing with the hair charm. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry—it was a symbol of something more. Maybe trust. Maybe a new beginning.

Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that it mattered.

[ladykailitha]

The Rise of The Fallen Part 2

Here we are at last, the end of an era. Other than a short Christmas ficlet this is the end for our boys.

Thank you to everyone who tagged along with me for this long adventure.

Part 1

Abbadon reveals himself and the two most important people in his life. And we see a bit of the aftermath.

~

Abbadon: So before I take off the mask and let the whole world see who I am first I want to thank our manager, who the world had only known as Miss Celeste Baptiste. Robin Buckley. She is my rock and as Shane said, my platonic soulmate and twin. We might not be related but if feels like we were separated from birth.

A picture is shown of their fashion plate of a manager. Dark black bob, dark sunglasses, slinky feminine clothes. The woman that walks into frame is not that. She still has the slender frame and sharp features but she’s wearing boxy, masculine clothing. Her blond hair is a choppy bob that frames her pretty face and bright blue eyes. She grins as she sits on one of the arms of the chair and Abbadon puts one arm around her waist.

Robin Buckley: Hey guys! To all my friends and family: gotcha! As if someone as wonderful as me would ever be just some rockstar’s low level PA. Slubs!

I laugh. She winks at me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

KL: Were you their manager from the beginning?

RB: Yeah. Abbadon and I have always worked together since our first jobs. There was no doubt that I was going to be their manager.

KL: Tell us about those first couple of years.

She huffs her annoyance, not at the question but at the memory: It was pretty hard just getting into the doors of dive bars. Like really hard. I didn’t look like a manager and they didn’t look like a metal band. They looked like the dads of a metal band.

She kisses the top of Abbadon’s head.

RB: It was Abbadon who came up with the idea. At first it was just me. I’d dress up like some high powered manager maybe they would stop fielding my calls. And it worked to get them in the door, but the second they walked on stage, they’d get booed right back off again.

The band shifts uncomfortably in their seats at the memory. They all seem affected by the booing. Even Shane Kendrick who exudes sunny by nature.

RB: So I suggested they do the same. Dress up as metalheads and the metalheads will come. It was Abbadon that suggested the masks and hoods. All the members in the band have features that can’t be covered up by makeup to make them unrecognizable.

She starts counting off on her fingers.

RB: Spence’s crooked nose, Shane’s red hair and freckles. Simon’s high cheek bones and sharp jaw. And Abbadon’s hair.

I frown

KL: Is it red like Shane’s or something?

Robin and Abbadon laugh. And even Abbadon’s partner smiles widely.

Abbadon: I was famous for my hair in high school. It was even one of my nicknames. The Hair. So yeah. Hoods were the only thing that would cover it for sure all the time.

KL: Why not a wig?

Abbadon: I allergic to whatever they use for them. I’ve tried all kinds but I always end up with a rash and a bloody scalp.

I wince.

KL: That must be painful.

Abbadon: There’s something else the mask covers. I have distinctive moles on my face and while they can be covered with makeup, it’s still visible in certain lights.

RB: Like the stage lights in a stadium. You can tell there’s a bump there.

KL: So masks it was then?

Abbadon nods

Abbadon: But I never thought to cover the ones on my neck. I didn’t think that anyone would be paying attention to those.

Robin smacks his arm playfully.

RB: And we all saw how well that worked out for you.

Abbadon shrugs, clearly unrepentant.

Abbadon: I got a boyfriend out of the deal.

Then Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin walks into frame and sits on the other side of Abbadon on that arm of the chair.

Eddie Munson: That would be me! He waves cheerfully at the camera. I had a crush on Abbadon when we were in high school so I mapped every freckle, every mole, every line that I could see. A lot.

KL: Tell us about how you figured out they were one and the same.

He grins and Abbadon shakes his head fondly.

EM: I went to a concert of theirs with the friend everyone wants to see the reaction to this video filmed. I grilled the kid to figure out if he was in on the secret, too. But nope. He’s definitely caught on by now, though. He winked at the camera. Sweetheart, I have my own confession to make.

Abbadon looks up at him expectantly. Don’t ask me how I can tell with the mask still on. The best I can figure is that he looks like a puppy. Head tilt and all.

EM: Jeff’s known who you are for almost as long as I have.

Abbadon’s laugh is bright and clear.

Abbadon: I know, babe. He told me that first tour together. I thought you knew.

Eddie turns toward the camera slowly.

EM: Jeffrey Oliver Lawrence, I am going to murder you and no one will ever find your body.

Everyone laughs.

Eddie and Abbadon share a look and Abbadon takes a deep breath. He pulls off his mask, but his head is still down. He pushes back the hood and takes a deep shuddering breath. Both Robin and Eddie take one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. Abbadon raises his head. They give his hands another squeeze and exit frame, leaving Abbadon alone in the hot seat.

He’s a good looking man with an easy smile and yes, very distinctive moles. His hair is floppy and a warm honey brown.

Abbadon: Hey, Dustin. I know you’re about ready to murder me right now, and I can absolutely explain if you’ll let me. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you. Hiding this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I know you. There is no way you would have been able to keep this to yourself. You would have been too excited.

Your two best older guy friends frontmen of their own metal band? You would be vibrating out of your skin to tell people. And you wouldn’t mean to, but someone you thought you could trust would sell me out for a tidy check and whole lot of hurt. Not just me and the rest of The Fallen, but for you too.

I know it’ll be some small consolation, but the first album is about you and your friends. I hope you can forgive me.

Abbadon chokes back tears.

Abbadon: Right. Now that the apology is out of the way. My name is Steve Harrington and I’m 33. Like Shane said, same birthday, year and all. I wasn’t always a metalhead. I only started listening to it because of Corroded Coffin. They were from Hawkins and Dustin highly recommended them to me. So I started listening to them. They were so good that I kept going back to the music store–he rolls his eyes yeah, yeah. Lame I know. But the internet! he waves his hands I wanted a person’s recommendation not some algorithm. And I got really into it.

KL: How long had you been singing?

Abbadon (SH): Since I was a kid. I learned how to play piano, sing, and dance. My mother wanted to me to be a little gentleman. Hell I even had allocation lessons.

My eyebrows shoot up.

KL: Was your mom trying to live out some Jane Austen fantasy through you?

Abbadon (SH) laughs: Something like that.

KL: I’m a little furious about the names, if I’m honest.

Abbadon (SH) throws his head back and laughs. The rest of the band joins in.

Abbadon (SH): I would like to take credit for it because it is so fucking hilarious. But no, that was all Shane.

Astraeus (SK) grins.

Astraeus (SK): Hell yeah it was. Robin hated it at first but once people started using them it just kinda made sense. And the rest is as they say is history.

Abbadon (SH) gets up and moves out of the hot seat to sit with his band.

KL: It must be so strange to be calling each other by your real names.

Asmodeus (SO): Fuck no. We’re friends outside of the band.

Abbadon (SH): I know we don’t have the decade long history of playing together before making it big the way Corroded Coffin does, but we’re solid as friends. We were all invited to Spence’s daughters’ Christening. Shane couldn’t make it because he had another family thing crop on the same weekend, but we support each other.

I am taken back at how fierce Steve Harrington is about the love his bandmates. I can see around him his band relaxes when he takes charge, like a commander of a military unit. They all look up to him, even though Shane and Steve share the same birthday, it’s clear they love Steve like an older brother.

KL: So what’s next for The Fallen?

Azrael (SP): I know fans will be disappointed to hear but we are taking a two year break. We need time for our families to get use to the fact we lied to them for the last twelve years.

Asmodeus (SO): There maybe some heavy fallout that we have to deal with and we don’t want our attention divided like that.

Astraeus (SK): Our music would suffer for it and we don’t want to do that to our fans. We love you guys.

Abbadon (SH): Trust the process. Trust us. I know that seems like a lot to ask right now. But please respect our privacy at this time.

KL: Thank you so much for joining us today. The Fallen everybody!

There is a smattering of claps from the crew and Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley whistle and cheer.

Looking over at the four men that felt they had to hide themselves to be treated with respect in the genre they loved you can see the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders and they are happy.

*

“Why does Eddie have to record this?” Dustin whined.

Eddie laughed. “You are the self-proclaimed biggest fan of The Fallen, I’m honestly more surprised that you didn’t want to record it yourself.”

Steve bumped his shoulder into Dustin’s. “And it’s not like we’re going to stream it. If you have a bad reaction, it won’t go up on TikTok. I promise.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Pinkie swear?”

Eddie and Steve both held out their pinkies. Dustin used both of his hands to shake on it and then settled in to watch the video.

Steve shifted nervously in his seat as his three best friends in the world revealed themselves to be members of a famous metal band. As they dropped hints about Abbadon’s identity.

Dustin’s face went from excitement to confusion to anger and Steve braced for the explosion.

But it never came. Dustin, for all his bluster growing up, had changed. He waited until Steve’s reveal and his apology.

Dustin’s anger vanished like mist in the morning sun as he watched TV Steve fight back tears about having to keep this secret from him.

He slowly turned to Steve. “Which songs are about me?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “There’s only one about just you. The rest are about you and your friends. The one about you is ‘Brother’. The ones about you and your friends are ‘The Heart and the Flame, ‘My Lullaby’, and ‘Kiss the Girls, Kiss the Boys’, from the third album is about you guys, too.”

Dustin frowned for a moment. “That last one was directed at Mike and Will specifically, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It was aimed at all of you. Kissing who you want to should never have to hurt. Boys or girls. And at the time it was also partially about me being bisexual, too.”

Dustin thought for a moment and then launched himself at Steve, throwing his arms around the boy that became his surrogate older brother.

“I forgive you!” he mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief. He gave Eddie the thumbs up and he stopped recording.

“I almost told you so many times, Dusty,” Steve murmured. “You have to believe that.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m a little hurt at the moment but I think once the shock wears off, I’ll agree with you. But I’ll be grumpy about it.”

Steve squeezed him tight. “As is your right.”

“I still can’t believe you and Robin told us that you were gofers for the record label!” he huffed.

Steve and Eddie laughed.

“As if we would have stayed if it sucked that bad, bud,” Steve said. “We’ve always moved on and up with every job we’ve ever taken.”

“I guess I didn’t really look hard into it,” Dustin admitted. “The rest of us had all gotten these amazing jobs.”

He began counting on his fingers, “Max is a software designer and motion capture stunt skateboarder for all the Tony Hawk games. Lucas recently retired from a decade long career in the NBA. Mike and Will are New York Times best selling children authors. Ellie is a fashion designer that has had her work featured at New York fashion week. Eddie’s a rockstar, Nancy and Jonathan are an epic journalist duo. Argyle has three food trucks and a Michelin star restaurant in LA. And I work for freaking NASA, man, with my wife.”

“I’m still upset you and Ellie didn’t work out,” Eddie groused.

“She got invited out to London at the same time I got the job at NASA,” Dustin said with a wry smile. “We knew then we wanted different things.”

He huffed out a sigh and rotated on the sofa so he was facing Steve. He twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “When Azrael talked about how isolating it felt that no one in your lives figured out that you were in one of the biggest metal bands in the country, I scoffed.” He looked down at his hands.

“Because I was so sure if I had known anyone in The Fallen I would have guessed,” Dustin continued. “Only I did know someone and I would have never guessed. I was so willing to believe that you and Robin just didn’t have the ambition to chase your own dreams. And I’m sorry.”

Steve, Robin, and Eddie all hugged him.

“Now you’ve got hella bragging rights at work now,” Robin said with a smile. “You’re friends with Corroded Coffin and The Fallen.”

Dustin lit up and started talking a mile a minute, hands waving and grinning from ear to ear.

Steve pulled out his phone and read the messages he was getting from his best friends and bandmates. There had been a couple of rough moments, like Steve knew was going to come from his own parents and maybe even a couple of their group, but they would make it just fine.

The least surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Chrissy and Robin were dating and had for a couple of months after their trip around the world, but waited until the reveal to come out to tell people.

The most surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Simon had plucked up the courage from somewhere to ask Vickie out on a date. She said yes.

There were hints on the horizon of another relationship forming too. And judging from Shane’s texts, once Gareth got over the shock of Abbadon being Steve, the two of them were going to be a pretty sure bet.

Nadia was the only one who really took it in stride. But that woman was unflappable. She just calmly sat Spence down to discuss the sudden invasion of their private lives and how to handle all that. Spence had admitted in the group chat that he cried in relief when she took over.

It looked as though The Fallen was going to rise from the ashes of this experience just fine. Hell, they might even get a album or two out of the deal.

Because “The Rise of The Fallen” sounded like one hell of a song title and album name, too. Their future was going to be as bright as their past. He just had a feeling.

~

Yes, Robin flirted with Karla but only to make her blush. She is faithful to her Chrissy.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair @eyehartart

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina

[writesleah]

the way i loved you ౨ৎ m. riddle

౨ৎ mattheo riddle x reader, brief cedric diggory x reader

౨ৎ angst/fluff

౨ৎ after a hard breakup, you had finally moved on and found your perfect man. he was everything you could’ve asked for, but the lingering thoughts of your ex take a toll on you

౨ৎ swearing, mentions of blood and fighting, borderline betraying cedric :(

౨ৎ 1.8k words

౨ৎ if it’s not already completely obvious, i was listening to the way i loved you by taylor swift when i thought of this lmaooo i couldn’t fight the taylor references so there is a couple in here, it’s just my deep rooted swiftie mindset

“hey baby. you look beautiful today,” cedric smiled, sitting down at the slytherin table next to you, a bold move for a hufflepuff, but everybody thought he was far too good looking to say anything. well, some people.

mattheo riddle had the absolute nerve to speak up, as if he hadn’t completely ruined your life only months before.

“alright, diggory?” he snorted, looking your boyfriend up and down with disgust. he and cedric probably could’ve gotten along just fine if it wasn’t for the clashing common interest that seemed to have mattheo spitting as many nasty comments as he could - you, “i see you’re still pissing about with her.”

he didn’t even bother to say your name when he was talking about you. twat. you felt your anger starting to pool up in your stomach, a force threatening to take over until a soft hand placed itself on your hip.

“just ignore him, okay?” cedric smiled down at you, encouraging you to do exactly what he was doing. you nodded.

“it’s fine. he’s just… yeah,” you sighed, scrunching your eyes a couple times before continuing to eat, doing your best to ignore mattheo’s presence on just a couple seats down.

—

“he’s perfect,” pansy sighed, practically drooling over your relationship.

you had shown the girls the card he had made for valentines day, which was honestly the smallest thing he’d done for you on the day. he had a tendency to show his affection as much as he possibly could, making you experience every single love language at least once a week.

“that’s adorable, oh my god,” daphne gushed, reading the card over and over. it was a sweet message where he described his love for you, and it definitely warmed your heart, “i’m actually so jealous of what you guys have, it’s not even funny. astoria, come read this.”

astoria made her way over to the group and took the pale pink card from her sister’s hands, her eyes scanning the words that practically formed a letter with how many cedric had written. the three of you watched as her face contorted into an expression of admiration and light jealousy, her cheeks slightly pink.

“stop it, you’re going to make me cry knowing that i don’t have a man that loves me like this,” she whined, punctuating her words with a small laugh.

cedric was your ideal boyfriend. he was attractive, sensible, smart and kind. he got along with your parents and siblings, and always made sure to compliment you in some way every time he saw you. he said everything you ever wanted to hear, and was just perfect for you, so why couldn’t you get mattheo out of your head?

“i need to ask you all something,” you blurted out, a little annoyed at yourself for doing so, but also relieved that you could get it off your chest.

the trio looked over at you with raised eyebrows, waiting for you to continue.

“what is it?” pansy murmured, her head tilted just slightly as her eyes studied you.

"okay, let's just say... hypothetically, you have the most perfect, incredible boyfriend and could never ask for anything better, but… there’s this pesky little lingering thought about a certain past endeavour that you can’t get out of your head.”

the girls looked at you a little confused, though daphne’s expression quickly hardened. she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“please tell me you’re not still thinking about riddle,” she groaned in disappointment, shaking her head whilst running her hands over her face. the other two expressed disapproving noises and sighs, looking at you as if you’d just told them you were going to kill someone.

“it’s mattheo, what do you want me to do?” you mumbled defensively, helping it would support your case a little, but it just made them give you a glare.

“i don’t get what you see in him. he’s a boring, lazy prick who skips every class he possibly can to smoke weed and get plastered with his equally as boring and lazy roadman gang,” astoria huffed with a small shrug, looking at you with more concern than anything, “all you guys would do was scream at each other and cry about it all, and then go and make out in the rain or something, which i suppose is pretty hot, but it doesn’t make up for all the arguing.”

“you go insane when you’re with him. i didn’t even know it was possible to feel that much, but you definitely proved that it is,” pansy snorted, though it was clear her comment wasn’t really a joke.

you just sighed and brushed it off, promising that you wouldn’t do anything. it was just something on your mind, right?

—

you were walking in the corridor on your own, cedric just having left to get to his class, which was on the complete other side of the school to yours.

“rare to see you without prince charming these days. have you broken up already?”

you knew who it was when the first word was spoken, and after days of trying to get him out of your mind, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“do you have nothing better to do than terrorise me and my relationship, riddle?” you spat, turning around to face the boy, though your expression quickly dropped when you saw crimson blood spattered across his face, “why am i not surprised?”

“wow, last name basis now, princess?” he chuckled, brushing off your comment about his injuries with a small huff of either annoyance or amusement, you couldn’t really tell.

you tried to walk away, not wanting to involve yourself in his antics when you couldn’t trust yourself to not snap without somebody nearby to warn you not to. it was hard to control yourself around mattheo for some reason. probably all the pent up anger you had from the relationship and its ending.

“just piss off. i honestly can’t be bothered with you right now,” you sighed, shaking your head. his face dropped at that, seeming much less entertained now that you had say that you genuinely didn’t want to speak to him. he didn’t like that.

“no, absolutely not. what you’re not gonna do is act like a bitch because you’re in a mood about something,” mattheo scoffed, grabbing your wrist to pull you back, leaving a faint, bloody handprint on your skin, to which you groaned at.

“can you not?” you murmured, trying to wipe it off, but only smearing it across your arm further. at this, he sighed and pulled you into the prefect’s bathroom, the nearest place with a sink.

“here, since you apparently need everything done for you. i see some things haven’t changed,” he tugged your arm under the sink and lightly rinsed it away, rolling his eyes as he did so, and taking the chance to wash his own hands, “you’re a real piece of work, you know that? especially these last couple months. i don’t even know what’s happened, but it’s annoying.”

“what happened is we broke up. i’m not going to be your sweet little angel every single day, riddle,” you retorted, shaking your head and patting your arm dry with a paper towel.

“i still don’t get why we ended things,” the brunette shrugged, as if the comment he had just made meant absolutely nothing, “i mean, you’d probably be sat in my lap cleaning me up right now if we hadn’t.”

his words were a harsh reminder of how much things had changed. if he had come to you battered and bruised when you were together, which he had done multiple times before, you would end up sitting in his lap whilst cleaning off all the blood, reprimanding him for getting into fights again whilst trying to fight the incessant butterflies that flapped around so aggressively in your stomach. you were feeling those same butterflies now, too.

“well… we’re not, so you’ll have to settle for some water and a paper towel. maybe you’ll get a plaster if you can find one somewhere,” you scoffed, trying to act as nonchalant as he was.

“come on, princess, don’t be like that,” mattheo groaned, looking at you with a frustrated expression. you didn’t get why he was still calling you princess. he’d taken the pet name he loved using for you so much and turned it into a mocking insult. that hurt you, you had to admit, how he took something so precious and made it into a nickname only used for when he wanted to be rude.

you glanced over at him, meeting his eyes. those eyes. those perfect, dark eyes that, when in the sunlight, turned into a gorgeous, flowing blend of various chocolate shades that sparkled and told so many tales in such little space. you had to chastise yourself for thinking about him so fondly when you swore you disliked him so much.

“why are you doing this to me? acting as if everything’s just perfectly fine and like there isn’t so much shit between us?” you sighed, running your hands over your face out of pure annoyance. why was he acting like this? why were you okay with it?

“i know you. i know every single facial expression you make. every single word you say,” he muttered, studying your face rapidly, “and i know that half the smiles you show off when you’re with diggory are fake. he’s boring you, i can see that clear as day. at least when you were with me, it was fun.”

you shook your head at his words, a soft huff of disbelief forcing itself out of you. deep down inside of you, you know that everything he was saying was true, but you couldn’t admit that. cedric was your boyfriend, you loved him, didn’t you?

“stop it, mattheo,” you pleaded, looking up at the blood-drenched face of the boy you didn’t know whether you adored or despised.

“i was your first… everything, princess. you can’t just deny that what we had was special,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he was getting annoyed again, his soft facade crumbling.

“what do you want me to do? apologise?” you breathed out in disbelief, looking at him as if he was insane, “if that’s what you want, then this is me standing in front of you and saying that i’m sorry for what happened that night, and it hurts my pride to say this, but i sometimes find myself wishing i could change my mind. is that what you want from me? i’m sick of these games.”

mattheo seemed to pause at your words, each syllable playing over and over in his head as he registered what you had just admitted. it was as if his entire body just glitched, every muscle coming to a standstill, though his eyes flicked back and forth as if he was reading the words from a book. it took a moment, but he eventually cracked a small smile, his head tilting.

“did you just reference a taylor swift song in your apology, love?”

[howifeltabouthim]

She used to think about that all the time . . . What it must feel like for someone to be touching your hair. What it must be like to feel free in front of someone.

Taffy Brodesser-Akner, from Fleishman is in Trouble

[neyafromfrance95]

Can I just say I kind of feel sorry for the writers because you can tell they conceived the show as revolving around Haladriel and they really don’t want to deal with the Celeborn issue so they play lip service while writing something completely different lol.

To be fair though Tolkien himself wasn’t interested in him or him and Galadriel as a pairing especially when you compare how he writes his epic romances. It really feels like he was put there so we can get Arwen pretty much. And then she leaves without him to Valinor while he’s left mourning her which 🤣.

But yeah as far as the show goes if they didn’t want fans to see Haladriel as romantic they would have shown her grieving Celeborn…instead of falling in love with her arch enemy. This is just my opinion though but you can’t say how much she loves and grieves Celeborn while showing the complete opposite on the show. There was a way to center the relationship between her and Sauron without it being framed as romantic/soulmates but they didn’t which tells you everything you need to know.

exactly!

even before trop, it has been believed that the only reason tolkien wrote celeb0rn was to somehow connect galadriel to arwen and elrond.

the initial plan was for gal to marry elrond, but tolkien wanted galadriel to be the leader in her own right (it is her main defining trait) and keep doing her own thing. he did not want her to be defined by her husband/child. if she was married to elrond, she would be known as elrond's wife/arwen's mother first. so he gave her a npc family in the background instead.

but even then, i'd say her relationship with elrond is still more important in the books. and in the movies, she even seems closer to gandalf, lmao. so i'd say it would be better to focus on her relationship with elrond and establish her friendship with gandalf rather than introduce a new love interest (bc yeah, even if it's not explicitly romantic, haladriel is romantically framed).

btw, don't even get me started about how everyone seems to forget about finrod??? the one galadriel misses, the real "third" between her and sauron, her "guiding light" IS FINROD! nenya symbolizes galadriel's desire for power = sauron and galadriel's light/wisdom she got from finrod! nenya was made by sauron's design and using finrod's dagger! it's like sauron and finrod's battle continues within galadriel.

i don't dislike celeb0rn, but i think it's crazy that he was created so that galadriel can't be reduced to the domestic role and yet certain segments of the fandom do that anyways - reduce her to being her npc family's wife/mother in the show that intends to explore other aspects of her story and identity!

and idk man, but i feel like tolkien must have had some ideas for sauron and galadriel. "he gropes ever to see me and my thought" feels very significant. and they mirror each other in several ways as well.

trop does a fantastic job at giving this dynamic context. galadriel's greatest desire is to possess power, sauron's greatest desire is to posses the light. it makes sense for them to have a push-pull dynamic that's both intimate and cosmic in its' essence. the perfect way to expand on all the little details connecting sauron and galadriel in the lore. and it's just a fascinating story on its' own!

it would be such a waste to discard this dynamic for the sake of introducing the character that was never supposed to be that important. especially considering that the writers seem to have the show conceived with haladriel as its' core in their minds.

[marypaol]

Piano Boy

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader’s parents were invited to a meeting at the Malfoy Manor, and while exploring alone, she finds Draco playing the piano.

Warnings: Mentions of stress, carrying family burdens, numbness, sadness, nothing much just fluffy :)

Note: No use of Y/N-And also I had to write this one I totally picture Draco playing piano! 🫶🏻

___

Her feet softly patted across the floor, the fabric of her smooth dress surrounding both her and the floor as she made her way to an undecided destination. She went wherever her brain decided, since whenever she came across a corner she would randomly decide which to go: left, right, straight, or back where she came from.

She would never go back, though, but the thought of it being an option made her feel free. For the reason of never going back would prevent her from discovering more, for going back would only make her retrace her steps and see things she’s already seen.

A soft smile laid on her lips, for no apparent reason yet deep down she felt like it was because she felt content at the moment. And her and Merlin knew that it’s been a while since she felt so, the stress from school and burdens from her family heavy on her shoulders.

But all that changed when Mrs. Malfoy invited her family to tea, having a business meeting with her parents but they encouraged her to “wonder around” as if she was a little kid and they wanted to keep her busy. It worked, nonetheless, since her curiosity and wondrous mind got the best of her most of the time. She couldn’t help but smile as a way to say ‘excuse me, while I go explore.’

So she did so, practically skipping out of the room once she was out of sight, mind already spinning on possibilities of things she could see, could touch, (despite that voice she knew would be in her head telling her not to do so) and could think.

What kind things would be in the Malfoy Manor? Would everything be gloomy and mysterious like she assumed, or would things be darkly beautiful, calling her name to come closer until she found some evil chamber that revealed their cruel plans for the world of magic?

I hope not, though I assume they wouldn’t ever do that, she thought. She believed at that moment that the thought was just something that her mind was trying to make her think to make her afraid. But it wasn’t the time to be scared, it was the time to feel adventurous and free to whatever she wanted while her parents talked away on things she couldn’t understand.

Her eyes wondered along the walls, scanning over all the paintings displayed, eyes moving quickly because she wanted to soak everything in. She somehow feared that any time her parents would turn around the corner, telling her that it was time to depart, and she would no longer be able to look, so she took the time she had to admire everything possible.

She ended up stopping abruptly at a certain painting, hanging apart from the others and the table below it holding flowers in a vase as well as a tiny lamp for decoration, the soft light flickering a little bit, providing some sort of comfort to her, the lamp lighting up the painting in the most precious way.

What was the painting of, you may ask? The Malfoys, of course. But that wasn’t what stopped her, some normal family painting in their house. For it was the boy, the one that was one between the two adults, the one that actually had a smile on his face, despite the many snarls that beheld his lips in the past years she’s known him.

But the reason for the smile in the painting was because he was young, his face babyish as his pale cheeks scrunched up because of his mouth stretch of a smile. It made her heart warm at the sight of him, showing a smile that no one really got to see, which was a misfortune for the rest of the school; they deserve to see something so beautiful. His smile was so wonderfully painted, like the painter knew it was something that wasn’t shown often and they wanted to highlight every aspect of it, every beauty piece; which was every part of it. The paint brush strokes on the painting were so delicate, her fingertips brushing over the texture of the paint beneath them, running over his green robes he was wearing. (She would touch the smile she loved so dearly but the painting was far too big, making her wonder how long they had to stand there for the painter to paint them, it must have taken so long.)

But as she looked on, she noticed that there was more family paintings for years that came and went, each one Draco’s face forming into the snarl he held today, each one his lips dipping deeper and deeper into a frown that seemed to permanently take over his facial features. She frowned herself as she walked, watching as pure happiness changed to fake happiness, to slight distraught, to numbness.

As her feet stopped at the most recent one, the one with the least amount of dust on the frame, the frown on her lips dipped so deep she could feel her cheeks hurting from the in normal movement. She knew he was slowly pulled away from pride and accomplishment, thinking back on watching in the Great Hall as his happiness slowly left him, something else, something darker, taking over his chest and taking home there for years to come. Her own chest hurt, thinking about the pain he must be in.

“He’s just a boy.”

She overhead Mrs. Malfoy saying that, not remembering when but sure that she felt just as bad for Draco as the girl did. In fact worse, he’s her son after all and she’s just a classmate that was in the same House as he was. She was sure he knew her name, he seemed to know every Slytherin’s name for the benefit of it, but they’ve rarely talked.

But she knew a lot about him just by sight and noise. But she wished to get to know the real image, not the fake image of his personality, before sadness took over his chest and before the frown took home on his lips.

She wished to know him.

Draco.

It was at that moment, that she heard soft music, piano, if you will, softly playing as if a quiet record was playing behind a closed door, as background noise to listen to to help one focus on something else that her thoughts were interrupted and the frown left her lips, replaced with a confused yet curious look.

She could no longer focus on the painting and thoughts running through her head, however, since the music distracted her from the gentle paint strokes in the frame on the wall.

Her feet stepped away from the wall, her knees hurting slightly from standing there so long thinking about the son of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

The music was very soft she could barely tell where it was coming from, her ears almost playing tricks on her from using them so purely. She then noticed how it was around the corner, so her feet took her there, coming in contact with a emerald door, mostly closed leaving just a crack of light from

it being open slightly, the straight line casting on the floor beneath her giving her legs some warmth.

She knew the music was coming from inside the room, the soft keys being pressed so gently-almost hesitantly- as the unknown person played.

She leaned in closer subconsciously, ear angled toward the crack so she could hear the song at its best.

To her horror surprise, her head dropped a little too far and pumped into the door, forcing it open, more light blinding her as she stumbled in, skipping over her own feet. The piano instantly stopped playing, the last note abruptly ending as the person’s fingers quickly brought themselves up off the keys.

Her head snapped up to see the wondrous player that left her tranced to the room she was mistakenly standing in, to find the last person she thought would be playing the piano secretly while his parents talked to hers about business, using words neither of them would understand.

Her eyes widened at the sight. Draco was sitting on the bench, on an all black suit-even the tie was black- and pale hair pointing to and fro, like he was running his fingers through the strands that sat on his head.

His lips formed in both a surprised and annoyed snarl.

“What are you doing here? Poking around I see?”

On her part, she could unhesitatingly say that he sounded very irritated at the disturbance.

She swallowed her throat dry but spoke nonetheless.

“Yes- I mean no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother. My parents said-“

“Your parents?” He said, interrupting her despite hes annoyance towards her when she did the same thing to him just moments prior. “Your parents are here?”

She was taken back both by being cut off and his confusion.

“Yes, why didn’t you know?”

Draco shook his head, locks swaying. “Does it look like I did?”

It was her turn to shake her head, looking around the room. It was gorgeous, just like the other rooms on the house but this one had a sense of comfort and melody; very fitting for a music room.

She looked over at him, and his hand was still on the keys, fingers fiddling with it like he had an urge to continue playing.

She found herself walking towards the instrument, leaning her elbows on it as her skirt fell into place at her ankles, the material cool against her tired legs.

She gazed at him as he watched her every move, wondering why she was still here when he clearly gave her signs he didn’t want to have company.

“Did you know that pianos are considered a member of the percussion family?” She asked gently, a soft smile on her lips.

His eyes glanced at hers before looking back at the white and black keys, fingers playing a melody that wasn’t a part of what he was playing earlier.

“No, I didn’t know that.” He mumbled, not seeming so annoyed anymore.

She smiled a little wider. “While now you do.” She said, careful not to leave fingerprints on the what looked like the freshly polished piano.

Draco noticed her slight discomfort, one because of her body weight switching from foot to foot, and two the simple movement of her doing so distracted him from the instrument in front of him.

He scooted over, hand patting the seat as she smiled, walking over slowly and sliding onto the emerald cushioned piano bench beside him.

She then watched as his fingers effortlessly played the instrument, his hands gliding across the keys as if it was water and he was pouring it into a glass, controlling ever drop so it wouldn’t spill everywhere. He had so much control over it, everything he told the instrument to do it would do it without another word.

She couldn’t help but admire, slightly dazed as his long fingers took over the once sitting in silence keys. The music flowed from it, the beauty of the music was all coming from his hands, and that amazed her.

He stopped, playing something that was a part if the song she just heard, and apparently it was incorrect despite it sounding wonderful, and he mumbled something under his breath out of frustration.

“I think it sounded exquisite, Draco. I didn’t know you knew how to play the piano.” She complimented, looking up at him.

His fingers halted their movements from the unexpected commentary and she took the opportunity to place her own hands on the keys, pressing whichever ones she desired and listened as the note came about into the air, spawning to life for her and his ears to hear.

His fingers came into her view, stopping her from doing anything else, and both confusion and hurt poured over her, wondering if she only annoyed him further.

It wasn’t until she felt the soft presence of his other arm around her, his other hand landing on hers as he placed her fingers on the keys accordingly.

“There.” He spoke soft, almost right into her ear and a deep flush washed over her, starting at the tops of her hair strands to her cheeks, deep in her chest, and straight down to her toes.

She then felt his fingers pressing down hers so she could play what he was playing. She smiled slightly, but the concentration on trying not to separate their fingers was the main goal on her mind at the moment.

Once the last note rang in the air, and his foot let off the petal beneath their feet, his hands left hers as his presence left her, and a cold wave flushed over her, leaving her wanting his touch back more than ever.

Silence took over for a couple seconds before she heard the music once again, this time a different song, and her eyes watched as he played.

The song sounded sad, like someone was deep into a headspace they couldn’t leave and was trying to find the light.

Her head dropped slowly, her temple landing on his shoulder, which tensed for a moment before getting used to the feeling of touch.

The soft music and his unique scent took over her, her eyes closing as she unwillingly took the time to rest.

It may have been her imagination, part of her dreams whirling with real life, but she thought she felt another head lay on hers in response, a soft smile stretching on her lips.

-Thanks for reading!

Ich liebe dich! 🩵🤍

[hannigramislife]

"Oh, the abuse cycle in bsd–"

Yes, let's talk about the abuse cycle in Bsd. Let's talk about what people don't seem to mention, ever.

Mori. Dazai. Akutagawa. Kyouka.

Though nothing is certain about what the relationship between Mori and Dazai was really like, there is a clear difference between these relationships.

Mori is appreciative of Dazai. Much as he is scared of him, Mori would take Dazai back to the Mafia in a heartbeat. From the flashbacks, we could see that Dazai and Mori had relatively easy talks, Mori confided in him, was always honest, and 15 year old Dazai seemed to talk freely with him. The abuse is, far as we know, emotional manipulation on a great scale.

Akutagawa was probably violent with Kyouka, just as Dazai was with him, though I suppose at a lesser scale (i don't think he ever shot bullets at her, for example). One thing that we do notice, though, is that Akutagawa never talks down to her? He acknowledged her strength and gave her the same reason to live that he believed in himself. Then, he also acknowledges her growth, is actually happy for her happiness, and in Dead Apple, even suggests for her to kill him when he's at his weakest. There's also a lack of emotional dependence— unlike his own case, Akutagawa did not mold her to depend on his approval. And when she sees him, she has a less severe reaction than she did when she saw Mori, for example.

And then, you have Akutagawa and Dazai. And this is what really pisses me off. Because not only is Dazai both emotionally and physically abusive to Akutagawa, he continues to keep his hold on Akutagawa even after he has become a "good guy." He keeps Akutagawa tethered to him, manipulates him in dangerous situations Akutagawa has no business being in, and purposely plays into the boy's trauma bond to him to use him. All while giving everything to a random orphan he met on the streets that - objectively speaking - is no better than Akutagawa?

This is my personal view on their relationships, and I haven't read any light novels but Beast, so there might be information I'm missing.

But no amount of context can change the fact - and I mean fact - that Dazai had absolutely zero excuse to do what he did to Akutagawa. While in the Mafia or after it. Because the guy with an IQ of a billion, who was himself saved and shown kindness by another in his darkest times should have fucking known better.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of noticed is that Donnie & Leo are the Turtles that kind of seem the most similar to Splinter, Big Mama & Draxum

Splinter: Once the hounds sniff out the boys, I ninja them out!

Leo: Relax. We’ll do what we always do. Ninja in, ninja their faces, ninja out.

In most iterations of TMNT, Leo is often arguably the Turtle most similar to Splinter & the same seems to be to be true in Rise as well as we often see similarities between Leo & Splinter throughout Rise with Leo sometimes showing similar behaviour to Splinter or even saying similar phrases to Splinter.

Members of the Rise team have also said that putting Leo in a Lou Jitsu outfit in the episode Many Unhappy Returns was also partly meant to be symbolic on how Leo is the Turtle most like a younger Splinter

Splinter: New York, what a town

Donnie: New York! What a town!

Similarly to Leo, Donnie has also been shown to have similar behaviour to Splinter & has also said similar phrases to thing Splinter has said as well meaning that it could be possible that Donnie picked up those phrases from Splinter in the first place.

Splingter: That is a lie! I taught him that one

Splinter has even admitted that there are certain things that Donnie has originally picked up from him. 

Big Mama: Big Mama never goes back on a deal, she does however alter the terms at the very last second

Leo: My deal was no weapons for you, not me

Leo: We could have if Donnie didn’t change the rules at the last second because he’s a sore loser!

Similarly to Big Mama both Donnie & Leo have been shown to twist rules & words into something that will be in their own favour with Leo willing & being able to use the wordings of agreements so deals end up in his favour & Donnie having been shown to be willing to change a games rules in order to increase his chances of winning.

Draxum: Only a true genius could choreograph this many betrayals AND double crosses

Leo: Triple betrayal! Everybody’s on fire tonight!

It is possible that Leo’s strategic mind & his love of betrayals & double crosses comes from Draxum as similarly to Leo, Draxum also seems to enjoy betrayals & double crosses.

Draxum: Now to do some like removing of one thing attached to another thing

Donnie: Now to do some light removing of a thing attached to another thing

Meanwhile both Donnie & Draxum seem to be similarly scientifically minded with Donnie even saying some phrases similar to Draxum.

The fact that Leo & Donnie both kind of take after the adults in their lives the most is kind of interesting but it also kind of possibly shows that the two of them might possibly be more alike than either of them realise.