#Healing sweet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

Text

Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.

It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.

Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.

There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.

Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?

There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)

When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.

It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.

Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.

He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.

Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.

Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.

“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”

“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”

“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”

“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”

Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”

“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.

“Okay, then walk me through it.”

“What?”

“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”

“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”

“Because you’re scared.”

Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”

“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.

“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”

Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.

“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”

“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”

Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.

Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.

Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.

Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.

Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.

Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.

He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.

Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.

He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.

Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.

“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”

“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.

“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”

In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.

“How did you—”

Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”

Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.

“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?

“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?

“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”

Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.

“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”

So, so much.

#steve harrignton #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #stranger things #st4 fanfic #i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol #i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness #proposal au #hehe #short and sweet #excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped

4K notes · View notes

amber-laughs · 4 months

Text

honestly the rebellion did nothing but tear siblings apart. lyanna and ned on opposite sides of the war leading to a rift between ned and benjen, ashara and arthur losing each other, lysa slipping deeper into her resentment of catelyn, the final nail in the coffin for stannis and robert, hoster and the blackfish parting, cersei and jaime delving deeper into their sick ways, oberyn fleeing westeros forcing him and doran to grieve their sister on their own never healing

504 notes · View notes

puddii-ng · 25 days

Text

a nostalgic feeling ♪

333 notes · View notes

sersfandomthings · 4 days

Text

wanderer

(referenced from that one shot in the 3.3 interlude quest)

#genshin impact #wanderer #scaramouche #my posts #ser draws stuff #anyway this is way too late but!!! may all wanderer wanters be wanderer havers!!!#I originally wanted to finish this before I pulled for him with my friend last Fri but I didn't manage to rush it in the end 😓#good news is!!! I won the 50/50 so I still have funds for hutao if she comes out next patch in the chronicled wish banner #okay I swear though this guy is so convenient for exploration #I put him on a team with nahida faruzan and beidou they have zero synergy and no healing but it's fine I'll just make a lot of sweet madame #ALSO I only realized he's smiling at his glowing vision in one of his idles before realising he's being watched #and hiding his face with his hat #AND IT MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL OKAY #like that's essentially the symbol of his freedom and rebirth placed over where his heart should be #and it's his power and his power alone not something anyone else has control over #YOU KNOW #this guy istg

151 notes · View notes

feyreswaterybowels · 1 month

Text

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

265 notes · View notes

heyitsrink · 5 months

Text

He protected me, Fitz. It took months for him to gain my trust. But after a time, whenever Queen Desire was traveling and I slept on the hearth, I felt safe. It was safe to sleep.

A comic for my giftee, hoodedcreature, in this year's RotE Winterfest. It was such a joy making this. Baby Fool!! My Heart!!

#rote #realm of the elderlings #the fool #king shrewd #farseer #the farseer trilogy #comic #fan comic #king shrewd and his beloved little clown #designing shrewd was so fun!!#i imagine a softness to him that i don't see reflected often in the official art #he's just a lonely old man wanting some friends #and drawing sweet little fool curled up by the fireplace healed something in me <3 #panels of the elderlings

263 notes · View notes

saltpepperbeard · 8 months

Text

something something hornigold telling ed he wants to be referred to as “just ben” ie dropping the legendary status that is his title because in ed’s subconscious he wants nothing more than to drop “the kraken” and “blackbeard” and be “just ed” something something

#OFMD #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD S2 Spoilers #Edward Teach #Benjamin Hornigold #this came to me while driving and i almost crashed my car <3 WKXJWND #LIKE GOOOOOODNESS LOOKING AT BEN THROUGH ED JUST MAKES ME 😀😀💀💀#MAKES ME WANT TO JUST 🕳🤸🏼‍♀️#YOU KNOW???#also yes call him ed #but also call him eddie because that heals me #it’s just so SWEET

387 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 11 months

Note

Could we get Cowboy!Ghost getting drunk off his ass making a fool of himself and being overly affectionate, confessing his love to Goose, all in all just being a mess of a drunk pretty please?

Of course Maelstrom anything for you 💜 I have a cowboy!König in the works for you and more cowboy!Soap "corruption kink" Mactavish cooking.

Simon is absolutely smashed. It's his own fault really, you told him you'd drink him under the table and he hadn't believed you. He isn't used to moonshine, you really should've stopped him before he got to this point, but it was so fun watching him go shot for shot with you. You're pretty sloshed yourself, but he is just... it's cute, it's really really cute.

You're crouched in the grass between his knees, rubbing his thighs, trying to ground him just enough that he won't vomit all over the place. Although that might be a good thing, get some of the liquor out of his system. No, the way he was boasting about being able to hold his liquor makes you think he'd be upset if you let him throw up.

"God, you've gotta get off your knees princess, give a man ideas." He slurs and if you weren't already so smitten with this man you might fall a little harder.

"Alright, shut yer eyes though, don't want you trackin' me with the spins," you wait for him to finish his grumbling and follow your order before you stand. You make the executive(drunken) decision to straddle his lap and he thumps his head onto your chest as soon as you settle on his lap.

His arms circle your waist and you let him hug you close to cuddle. You try not to coo at him as you thread your fingers through his hair, but he's so sweet like this you can't help one little affection. He grumbles more in response.

"Nobody told me you were gonna be a cuddly drunk," you grin, fingers dipping under his mask to scratch the back of his neck lightly. You press your thumb behind his ear, easy pressure points to keep the nausea at bay.

"'M not," you mumbles against your chest, you bite your lip and try not to laugh, "'m jus' in love with you." You are very much not laughing at that. Your fingers still and you feel Simon nuzzle against you, searching for more attention.

"You love me?" You whisper, because you don't want the rest of the group to hear. Their fun dims in the background, your world narrowing to just you and the man in your arms.

Simon hums an affirmative, "Want you to marry me, have my stupid fat babies."

"Babies? Plural?" Your brain latches on to the only thing it can, there's a non-zero chance Simon has blacked out and this is not how youre going to get engaged, "What happened to not fit to parent?"

He tips his head back, resting his chin against your sternum, the stars reflected in those gorgeous brown eyes you love so much. "I could do it with you," he tells you, and your heart could burst at how soft and honest he sounds, "I'm better with you."

God actually maybe this is how you want to get engaged. You want to bottle this moment, this look in Simon's eye, and save it for the rest of your life. His head moves with the steady rise and fall of your breaths, he looks at you like he never wants anything else than what he has right now. Just you and him sitting under the stars, breathing together.

You kiss him and he tastes like the best moonshine you've ever had, like canned peaches and stale tobacco, like the rest of your life, like Simon. His lips move against yours slow and gentle, he can never believe that a girl like you is kissing a guy like him. He savors everything you give him and then some.

The way you look when you wake up, the way you stretch your arms over your head and groan when you think no one's watching, the way you make every allowance for him and never ask him for anything but him in return. Why wouldn't he love you? Why wouldn't he tell you, show you, every chance he got.

"I love you too," you tell him softly, and his chest clenches so tight he thinks he might be having a heart attack out of shear joy.

"I'll get you a ring," he promises, and you really hope he hasn't blacked out because he's going to be real embarrassed in the morning if he remembers this.

"If we're being proper about this you gotta ask Daddy for my hand," you tell him just to watch him pout and shove his face back into your chest.

"Maybe we elope."

#i have another bonfire ask that im going to use for the making a fool of himself part #but this is so cute and sweet and i am so in love with Goose and Ghost's relationship #to love is to better!!! to love is to forgive and heal and move forward hand in hand!#hand in loveable hand!!!!#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #maelstrom you absolute fucking beauty i love you so much #thank u for all your comments and asks and ideas #do you want one of my kidneys? you can have it #jk or am i #cowboy!Ghost #oc: goose #cowboy!141

752 notes · View notes

shepscapades · 4 months

Note

Hey! i’m really into the dbch story and i was wondering if doc and xisuma ever tell bdubs the specifics of why etho lost his memories, cause if they do that is prime self blaming angst for bdubs

I’m inclined to believe they don’t. Actually (and maybe I should do a small comic for this so more people see it) I imagine, once a month or a few pass and they finally return etho to bdubs as reset, I imagine they are VERY serious about warning bdubs not to try to force Etho to re-deviate— they don’t go into specifics, but they probably tell bdubs that whatever happened had to do with something that was emotionally overwhelming, and that forcing him to redeviate/not letting it happen naturally could trigger the same error. They have no idea what could happen so bdubs needs to be very careful and let Etho find himself again on his own.

Whether or not bdubs gets impatient or can only go so long before he doubts it would be that bad if he tried pushing Etho in the right direction is another story.

But yeah. I don’t think Xisuma or Doc really… tell anyone that this happened. Etho’s error seemed like a very specific one-off scenario, so it’s not something the other hermits should be trying to avoid or be careful about happening to their own android friends, and the only thing telling people would do is make them worried about the situation. All they need to know is that etho was broken and that they need to be careful with him. I don’t agree with their decision to keep what happened to themselves but I understand it I think. Xisuma “i don’t want to worry the hermits” Void and Docm “eh this isn’t the first time I’ve replaced this arm, people won’t question it” 77

#that’s a lie actually I think xisuma ends up telling Cleo :>#but only because Cleo is very smart and I think they should be close in this au :]#but no she would clock Tired Overworked Existential Crisis Xisuma in an instant #Cleo calls them both idiots and gives them big hugs and tells them they need therapy. also that they’re welcome by her place anytime to talk #it’s very sweet and healing to me #this is where “all things end’’ on Xisuma’s playlist comes in actually #oh my god I got so off topic #BDUBS IS GOING TO FEEL GUILTY NO MATTER WHAT THOUGH #like okay. technically #the reason etho shut down is because he was freaking out that everything was his fault #(last life—not giving bdubs a heart— trying to win for bdubs and then losing— coming back to s8 feeling like he can’t face bdubs—>#ending up leaving him alone when the moon hit #and bdubs was hurt by these things. no doubt #but bdubs just wants his friend back and maybe he’s a little reckless about it #bdubs hides his emotions behind cartoonish frustration and complaining but he feels bad #he feels like he should be doing more to ‘save’ etho and bring him back even though he was to #told* he shouldn’t #dbhc ask #dbhc #dbhc bdubs #dbhc etho #dbhc doc #dbhc xisuma #ask #anon

198 notes · View notes

keesdarlin · 5 months

Text

☆// merry and bright (MDNI, 18+)

info! 141 + könig + keegan / fluff, established relationship + gender neutral reader

cw! no CWs

prompt! their favorite christmas/holiday activities

notes! i'm not big on christmas usually, but this seemed cute so i thought i would do a little bit of writing for it. hope you enjoy :]

KÖNIG

könig's favorite holiday activity is going to see the lights. he'll take driving through the neighborhood in a car if he has to, but he really likes making a whole night out of it. to him, going to see the lights is an entire event. you'll dress up all warm and stop on the way out to grab some hot chocolate or tea or whatever it is you fancy along with some warm snacks. then you'll find a nice neighborhood, probably packed with all the other people who had the same idea as you, and just walk through it. it's a nice way to just get out for a little bit, to bask in the fresh air and that winter chill. a nice excuse for him to spoil you a little bit with some treats and sugar. he keeps a hand on you so that you don't get swept away in the crowd and is ridiculously attentive to you. asks if you want him to go get you more hot cocoa when your cup empties. pulls you closer into his side when you complain about how cold it is. looks at all the displays that you point out and smiles for every picture. it's all very sweet, really. he just loves seeing the way your eyes shine while you're looking at all of the pretty lights.

GAZ

kyle loves taking you present shopping. he mostly likes it because you like it. window shopping, putting so much care and attention into choosing gifts for someone else, trying to figure out what you want for yourself. it's even more fun when you're doing all of the shopping in one place, preferably the mall. it's convenient and lively and full of energy. the lines are kind of a pain, but it's a little bit less annoying when he has you to talk to. he buys you whatever snacks you want while you're shopping. stopping for lunch is the best because that's prime time for people watching. you guys will just sit in the food court while listening to other people's conversations and commenting on them. makes sure that you're as comfortable as possible before you leave the house -- good shoes, comfortable clothes, hair tie on hand just in case you need it. he brings along band-aids in case you end up getting a blister. he also takes note of things that you like. he can't resist getting you a little gift or two to slip you when you're at home later.

SOAP

soap really likes the parties. really he just likes any excuse to see you all dressed up, especially for a party. add in some alcohol and he's having a great time. in his defense, what's not to like about a good party? music, free food, and some scheduled time to hang out with all of your friends, maybe catch up with some people that you haven't seen in a little while. he likes how clingy you get at parties too, all in the spirit of cuffing season and everything. you guys are basically joined at the hip, you either hanging on his arm or his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders or waist, keeping you pulled to his side. he likes the whole deal -- the themes, dressing up, having an excuse to dote on you a little extra, the coziness. he's super down to get lost in the moment of course, but he's always paying attention to you as well. all making sure your cup is full, making sure you have a plate of snacks if you're hungry or a sweater if you're cold, making sure you have someone to dance with if you feel like it. the whole event just gets him going.

GHOST

ghost really enjoys the lazy days that the holidays allow for. he just likes having the time to just exist with you. of course he loves planning dates when your busy schedules allow the both of you to see one another, but that can get a little bit high-pressure from time to time. if you're lucky enough that he's home for the holidays when you also happen to have work off, he really prefers to stay in with you. his favorite part is probably getting to sleep in late with you pulled to his chest. there's no risk of him waking up to an empty bed because you had to run off to work or go buy milk before an appointment or whatever else life throws at you. even if he wakes up before you, he can just hold you to his chest and find comfort in the sound of you breathing (and you can do that same. just listen to the beating of his heart as he sleeps beside you). when you are both finally awake, the morning is still slow to start. you stay in bed for another hour or three and take your time convincing each other to get up and start the day. it's usually simon that caves first, getting up and dragging you out of bed along with him. you both trudge to the kitchen, enjoying the coziness of your little apartment as you make tea and scrape together a lazy breakfast. from there you spend the day in your pajamas, cuddling on the couch and watching movies under a few blankets, dozing off and on, occasionally grazing on snacks.

PRICE

price usually enjoys being in the kitchen with you around the holidays. this usually consists of him being your little helper or leaning against the doorframe and rambling while you cook whatever you've set yourself to. he'll stand with you and make jokes or talk about random stuff while you roll out sheets of cookie dough or work on cooking something for dinner. to keep him occupied you'll assign him ingredients to dig through the cabinets for, really just so that you don't have to do it yourself. he'll probably find it with maximum efficiency too just so that you're not left waiting on him. he hands it to you, waits for you to measure it out, and then puts it back so that you're not losing any counter space either. and he's always bugging you for a taste of whatever you're making whether it's cookie dough or soup or whatever, but especially if it's some kind of sweet treat. if you're making cookies, you can guarantee that he'll sneak one off the cooling rack when you're not looking. would absolutely insist on making the most absurd gingerbread house with you (and would probably end up either painting you with frosting or eating it all).

KEEGAN

i'd like to think that keegan's favorite part of christmas is the snow. anything to do with the snow, really. during the first snow of the season, he drags you out to see it. it doesn't matter if you're working or sleeping or what, but cue keegan shaking you as gently as his stifled excitement can muster to come out and see it. if he's not with you when it finally start snowing, he'll call you and leave a short but sweet message about it. he loves playing in it; it's one of the only times he lets his guard down. loves snow angels, building igloos and snow men, having snowball fights, sledding. the whole nine yards. he just has a blast with it. he also teaches you how to make snow creams when you guys have the time for it (firm believer here that keegan would like his snow creams with chocolate chips). sometimes he'll go outside by himself and just sit in the snow for a little bit or stick his hand in it and feel the way it melts on his palms. it helps ground him, helps clear his head. no matter the case, he's more than happy to be able to share it with you.

211 notes · View notes