#hope everyone celebrating will have a wonderful time
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Darkness - Chapter 1
„Why do we have to attend to this meeting again?", Enzo asks for the fifth time.
„Because", Draco lazily repeats himself, „the Dark Lord has asked us to join."
„You know what happened the last time he asked us to come, right?"
They know. Of course they know. Despite being Death Eaters for almost a decade now, the five friends Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Lorenzo and Blaise have been invited to these meetings only two times before today: The first one was two years ago, to announce the engagement between Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. The second one was six months ago, when the boys found out that Draco was going to marry Astoria Greengrass.
„At least there are no more Greengrass sisters left for you to be punished with", Blaise mumbles bitterly. While Draco seems really content with his father's choice for a wife, Blaise never really stopped complaining about Daphne.
„I wonder which one of us it will be." Mattheo notices a little bit of excitement in Theo's voice. His Italian friend has always been very passionate. Mattheo suspects that Nott secretly craves a hot wife, who he will make happy and with whom Nott will found the family he never got as a child. Well, everyone is dealing with childhood traume differently, obviously, because the only thing that Mattheo has learned about families in his childhood is that Riddle men are lousy fathers and shouldn't have children.
But each to his own, of course.
„I can't believe that we have to go out and marry some random purebloods just because Harry Potter couldn't be defeated in the battle of Hogwarts seven years ago."
That was true. Mattheo was there when his father killed Harry Potter in the forbidden forest on May 2nd, 1998. He was also there to see Harry Potter standing up again and being more alive than ever. After that, Harry Potter disappeared. He was never seen again. The battle lasted days, but at the end, both sides had to accept that they couldn't win. At least for now. Since then, there had been this hybrid form of living together, tolerating each other on the outside, but plotting each other's death on the inside. Harry Potter has become kind of a legend, some people started to even doubt his existence. But there were whisperd on the street.. whispers saying that one day Harry would come back and end what he began.
In the meantime, the pureblood families decided to arrange marriages between themselves to form strong allies. The Greengrass sisters were high on the market, hence they were the only ones not married and not too young, so no matter what Blaise might be saying, he was lucky to ger Daphne. Mattheo nows he will be the last one to be married - his father didn't need him to win an ally. He just hopes that Theo or Enzo won't get engaged to a 14 years old baby in the sheer desperatiom of finding a pureblood girl.
Mattheo happens to be the last one to enter the room - which is ridculous, because he is going to take the seat left to his father anyway. He always does. In contrary to his friends Theo and Enzo, Mattheo is attending these gatherings more frequently. Draco and Blaise are asked to attend every single time, now that they're married men.
„It's always refreshing to see these young souls among us, isn't it?" His father starts his monologue. „And look, they seem to be thrilled to be here, too!" Which is a lie. None of them is happy to be here. „I would love to always have you guys around, but we have decided that to enter these holy rows, a boy should be old and wise enough to found his own family." Again, Mattheo thinks this is really pathetic, coming from a leader who never married, but who is he to judge? He is getting more and more nervous though. No matter how hard he tried, his father didn't tell him which one of his friend had been bethrothed.
„As you all might be already suspecting, we have all gathered here today, to celebrate the bond of two powerful, ancient, traditional pureblood families", he makes a dramatic pause, „but our possibilities are limited and they will stay limited if we focus on only our people. So, to make us even stronger, we decided to let you three marry some foreign purebloods, so that we can have some families all around the world." Well that is new. Mattheo smirks at his friends. When there was one word to describe Enzo's type of women, it's definitely „exotic."
„To ensure that everyone understands that this is my wish, I decided to let my son be the first to marry a foreigner."
„What?!" Mattheo bursts out, his smirk long forgotten. His father turns around to face him. Like always, Voldemort seems completely calm, a smile across his face. The Death Eaters might always have admired how patient the Lord has been with his son, but Mattheo knows his father better. He knows that spark in Tom Riddle's eyes very well. It's the face his father maked before torturing him with crucio until he can't even remember his own name.
„Don't let my son's impulsive reaction fool yourself, my friends. Of course he is more than happy for the opportunity to make us stronger and give us some pureblood heirs that will be inheriting our legacy. Am I right, Mattheo?"
Mattheo doesn't even hesitate. „Of course, father. I just didn't excpect to be the next one, that's all. You know, Theo, Enzo and I had a bet going on, about whose engagement it will be today and I just lost some galleons I'm afraid."
He chuckles and some Death Eaters laugh, too. His father awkwardly squeezes his thigh under the table, a gesture of approval. Draco, Enzo, Theo and Blaise definitely know that Mattheo's smile is just a facade, but there's nothing they could do for Mattheo right now. If the Lord wants him married, he's going to marry.
Voldemort suddenly stands up and gestures towards the heavy doors.
„Please welcome with me, the King and Princess of Turkey."
A Princess? Mattheo is wondering for a moment, but before he can even comprehend the meaning of this announcement, they're entering the room.
And suddenly nothing matters. There is no war, there are no Death Eaters watching, the arrangement and his disapproval of this arrangement are all forgotten. There's only her.
She has the biggest Doe-eyes he has ever seen. Her long, dark hair is casually falling in waves on her back. Her legs are long - and the little black dress she's wearing is emphasizing this detail more than Mattheo feels comfortable with - Draco and Blaise never seemed to have a problem with showing their wives off, but Mattheo already can tell that his wife is never going to wear a dress like this again.
The only thing about her that Mattheo dislikes is her facial expression. She seems to be nervous, which is normal, resgarding the circumstances, but there's also a hint of disapproval in her eyes. Like she didn't want to be here. Like she didn't want to marry him.
„Welcome, Selim", Voldemort happily says. This is when Mattheo realizes that there is a man entering the room next to this woman he shall marry. The King ignores that Voldemort refused to use his title and lets his biggest smile wander around the room.
„The pleasure is all mine, my friend. I can't wait to connect our families together. For that", he makes a dramatic pause turns around to the woman next to him, „I want to introduce you to my cousin, Leyla."
Leyla. What a perfect name for a perfect woman.
The King puts his hand to her back and slowly pushes her forward. Mattheo feels a panic building inside of him. It's not a good sign that he already feels jealous enough to break this man's hand for touching her, right?
Leyla (oh Lord, he loves thinking her name, he can't even imagine what it will do to him, when je finally gets to call her that) slowly proceeds towards his father. She seems uncomfortable when she finally is near enough to politely courtsy to his father.
„My Lord." Mattheo was smitten before, but hearing her voice is definitely what puts him over the edge. How can someone this Perfect even exist?
Voldemort smiles wildly at her, while awkwardly embracing her. „Welcome to the family, my precious daughter. Let me introduce you to my son, Mattheo."
It takes Mattheo a few seconds to comprehend that this is his clue to stand up and greet the guests. It takes him all his willpower to approach to the king first. „Your majesty", he says casually, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
Then he slowly turns to face her. She gifts him a warm smile and then does the cute courtsy she had given his father too. Mattheo stretchs out his hand, a little invitation for her to put her hand in his, which she does. He places a little kiss on her hand. „Welcome in our world", he says, still holding her hand.
„The pleasure is all mine, my Lord", she answers. Her accent is adorable. Her voice is soft, her smile is wide enough to let her dimples appear, but to his own surprise Mattheo can see that the smile doesn't reach her eyes. She's playing her part of a willing sister/soon-to-be wife accurately, but that's what she's doing. Playing. She doesn't want to be here.
Of course she doesn't want to marry you, Mattheo reminds himself, you are Voldemort's son. He holds her hand a little longer than necessard, but not too long to cause any suspicion, then he turns to face the King.
„So... why are you willing to sent your sister to a foreign country?", he asks, while gesturing their guests to join everyone on the table. His father is not a fan of his question, he can sense that much, and the other Death Eaters seem to be uncomfortable, too, but the King is calm, while answering: „She's my cousin, not my sister. And in Turkey it's still tradition to secure a partnership via marriage, my Lord."
„Mr. Riddle", Mattheo corrects, while helping Leyla to take the seat opposite to him, „my father is the only Lord here."
Once again, Mattheo doesn't have to face his father to sense that this time the Dark Lord is more than pleased with his son's perfomance.
„Oh, my apologies, Mr. Riddle. I didn't mean to be rude."
„You wouldn't be still standing here, if your words had insulted me", Voldemort intervenes. It sounds like a joke, but Mattheo knows that his father is more than serious.
„How old is your cousin?", Mattheo continues to ask.
„She's 24 my L- Mr. Riddle."
24? Daphne and Astoria had both been 22 when they were married off. And even then the Lord had stressed out in many occasions that the women of the Ton should marry sooner and give us as many new pureblood members as possible. Why would his father choose someone who is only a year younger than Mattheo?
„How much are we giving you for her?"
Someone gasps loudly. It is no secret that both Zabini Sr. and Lucius Malfoy had given Greengrass a little fortune for his daughters, but it was never officially spoken out - especially not with Daphne or Astoria in the room. Mattheo can see that Leyla's face tenses at the mention of the money.
„I can assure you that we have already talked everything through with your father, Mr. Riddle."
„Exactly, my son. There's no need for you to ask these questions", his father warns.
Mattheo smiles wildly at him. „I'm just trying to get to know my future wife more, father. You know, I had named you some criteria and I just want to be sure that she checks all the boxes."
„I can guarantee you that she has all the points you wanted", Voldemort lifts a brow and smirks at his son, and Mattheo can see that his father is genuine. She is fulfilling everything he asked for.
„Well, in that case... I think we can schedule a wedding in two weeks from now, right?"
The King visibly relaxes. „Of course, my Lords. I can't wait to become a part of your family."
Leyla chuckles. For a moment Mattheo thinks that he might've imagined that, but from the look on Theo's face (who is standing on the wall right behind Leyla) he can see that this really happened. Everyone's gaze turns to her, but she is looking at her cousin.
„No offence, cousin, but you just sold your own blood for money. What do you know what family is?"
There‘s a change of mood in the room. Everyone is so tense, they don‘t even dare to breath. Mattheo shares a glance with his father and realizes that the Dark Lord seems to be content with his soon-to-be daughter-in-law‘s outburst. Voldemort wanted his son to marry this woman and he apparently knew about her behaviour. Which means that Mattheo has to accept it, too. Not that he was complaining.
„Leyla, sweetheart, that‘s not very nice of you. I think my father and I have raised you better.“
„Your father and you have not raised me“, she snaps, „my nannies did. The only thing I have learned from you personally, my dear cousin, is to lock my door with an unbreakable charm every night, to prevent you coming in and trying to rape me.“
SMASH.
He had slapped her. The force of his hands had made her fall on the ground. King Selim did stand up, too and - to everyone‘s surprise - so did Mattheo.
„I can‘t remember to give you the permission to touch my fiancee“, he says, his ton still casual, but with a dangerous fire in his eyes. He walks around the table to grab Leyla by her arm and lift her up to her feet. She winces a little bit. She obviosusly expected him to be more gentle.
„She‘s still under my guard“, the King protests.
„She is not. The second you brought her in this room, she was mine.“
Again, there‘s this killing silence. The king waits for Voldemort to reject, but that‘s not happening.
„I guess some changes of plan are necessary here father“, Mattheo declares, „The wedding shall take place in five days - three if we can organize everything - and I think it would be more fitting if my bethrothed stayed with one of our friends in England, during these days.“
„She can stay with us“, Theodore quickly intervenes.
Mattheo smiles at his friend. „Excellent. Now, I think the meeting can come to an end. Your majesty, let Mr. Malfoy guard you out of his house.“
„But… Mr. Riddle, My Lord - we didn‘t talk through everything yet and I am still waiting for my.. my..“
„For your payment? Is a new found alliance with us not payment enough for you, your Majesty?“
„Well, of course it is.. but…“
„No but. I won‘t pay money to someoke who treats a soon-to-be Riddle like this. Oh and Selim?“, he adds, dropping all formalities, „you‘re lucky that she said trying to rape me and not rape me, because if you‘d dared to touch what‘s mine, you wouldn‘t be standing here right now.
#slytherin boys x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#slytherin boys#theodore nott#mattheo x leyla#darkness#hogwarts au#harry potter fanfic rec
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"Once you take an illithid by the talon, there's no telling how deep into the abyss it might drag you." (for @theemperorweek)
#the emperor#bg3 emperor#bg3edit#the emperor week#emperor week#gamingedit#baldur's gate 3#illithid#mind flayer#bg3#videogames#the talons have dragged me deep into the abyss indeed#one of my durges making a surprise visit say hello#i love the emperor week idea i love my fave being celebrated#i hope everyone has a wonderful time and everyone gets to share and see wonderful things!#(NO i'm not saying the tadpoling squid is emps because we don't knoooow but i needed illithid claws for my gifset)#*gif
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their two favorite colors in 2022
#last post in my recap!! there we are#it was a lot but hey i know i had fun hahaha#2022 was a wild ride and sometimes there was simply too much content to properly process it all#so i'm glad i took the time to go through my archive#what a year#hope everyone is having a wonderful day#celebrating in their own way#happy 2023!!#2022 recap#my posts#bluegreen
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"Alex,
There are years, and have been for me, during which the holidays become a long, lonely walk through a dark wood. Perhaps something irreplaceable has been lost. You stand before an icy path listening to the sound of bells, but you can't recall how to follow them. Even if you could, last year's coat wasn't made for this cold. And why should it be? You don't know the person who wore it any more than you know how to walk toward that goddamned ringing. You can't remember a hearth, or a warm hand, or the smell of cinnamon and ginger - or, you can, but you can't bear it, so you tell yourself that you don't.
But there are also years that feel like a fresh snow. The first of the year, an early, unexpected rush that knocks all the yellow leaves down. It's strange to feel a beginning here, but I do. God, I do.
I love you for a thousand reasons and in a thousand ways, but today in particular I love you because I can't wait to wake up on Christmas morning. I want the entire horrible, embarrassing ordeal- crackers and pudding and scratchy wool sweaters. (And yes, I will even consent to those matching ones you sent me. I am that thankful.) I want new traditions with you, and because they will be by your design, I am confident they will be ridiculous and sacrilegious and wonderful. I want to crackle across the radio with a Christmas address that's only an itemized list of your holiday sock collection, beginning with the ones that have Father Christmas in a cowboy hat on them.
Put your chin on my shoulder, love. Climb under the quilt. Remind me what joy feels like. You do it every day, darling— shouldn't be too troublesome for you.
Thank you for meeting me in the wood. Thank you for leading me home.
Happy Christmas,
Henry"
—from Casey Mcquiston on Instagram December 25, 2020
#bringing this back today#the ending gets me every single time#happy holidays to everyone who celebrates!!!#and to everyone who is not celebrating this year (including me) i hope you have a wonderful week#rwrb#red white and royal blue#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz#casey mcquiston
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misery despair suffering etc etc
#purrs#delete later#two thoughts about separate things both causing the despair. thought / thing number 1 which i think ive talked abt on here many times before#but im saying it again: i am not good at being a friend in the ways my friends need me to be a friend. and in the ways friendship is thought#of societally i guess. i isolate myself constantly. i pull away from the opportunity to get closer with people i don’t know as well. i don’t#text back and then when im finally ready it’s been so egregiously long since it was appropriate for me to respond or reciprocate or#whatever it is i am so crushed by guilt and shame and embarrassment that i can’t bring myself to do it. i have so many unread messages and i#wont even let myself open them. and ive been like this for years. and i hurt someone very badly many years ago by being that way. and it was#more complicated than that but sometimes i remember it and how i acted and how i treated them. and i wonder sometimes if they check up on me#and i don’t want to be immature or weird or whatever for talking about it or wondering that openly. but if you do read this and you know who#you are: i am so sorry. i meant whst i said that i would never stop wishing you well and hoping the very best for you. and i hope you have#all of that and more. and im so sorry for not being brave enough to communicate with you or stick around. i really really am. and im sorry#to all the other people i have hurt by pulling away and shutting down and shrinking inside myself and not talking. ik it’s weird to post#that instead of just telling people directly but it’s the guilt. i am fully aware of how many people / groups of people i owe things to /#for but also just… miss. a lot. and want to talk to even though i won’t let myself. i don’t know why im like this and i don’t know how to#stop. but im sorry im not a good friend or even acquaintance or community member. and im talking to everyone now i guess including anyone#reading this bc god knows how many asks and messages i have on here. im sorry. i want to be a better friend. but i also never have spoons. a#and i also want to stay spoonless and cocooned on myself forever and never come out. and i hate that. i want to be a friend. i want to be#kind and giving and loving and generous in the ways you all have been with me. i want to hang out with people and send messages and be there#to lift people up and celebrate with them. but all i can muster is tapping like on social media and it’s horrific. i have gifts to make and#hello / checking in messages to reply to and roleplay starters to post and i just can’t do it right now and im scared i’ll never be able to#again. but it’s a self fulfilling prophecy. if i say i can’t do it then iwont. it’s not enougu to just be aware of it i have to act on it#and change it. but im exhausted and hurting right now and i have been for years and i need to heal first but what if this is healing.#idk. i rambled on that for much longer than i thought i would so nowim gonna say the second thing in a separate post. and it’ll be weird to#post about that in light of this and it’ll be weird to post this at all. but its been weighing on me so heavily today and i don’t want#anyone to think im ignoring them or not aware of being like this or whatever. and posting into the void is easier than telling individual#people to your faces even though i know it’s cowardly. im really truly sorry. i will try to get better once i have the strength to try.#actually yeah no not gonna say the second thing yet. it would be weird to say it now. this needs to sit a little first
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Choose Your Own BL Adventure - Day 24
Options:
Laugh and walk back to the table, away from the mistletoe. Join your friends and enjoy the rest of your evening laughing and talking.
Stand there awkwardly and wait to see if anyone stands up to join you.
Walk to where Gelt is sitting, pull him up and back to the mistletoe with you.
Panic and run away back to the bathroom. Splash water on your face a few times before you go back out to your friends. Avoid walking under the mistletoe this time.
Day 23 here.
#2023 choose your own bl adventure#today's the last poll!#i did it i made it all the way through#tomorrow i will post the end of the story#merry christmas to everyone i hope you have a wonderful day#to all who celebrate and all who don't#this was a lot of work but i had fun and i'm glad i got to do it with y'all#i have a sliiiiiiiight idea for something else i can do but i make no promises#anyway i am for sure not doing this again next year but i have a sort of idea for next year too#i'm always full of ideas all of the time#it's like an idea machine in my noggin#posting this now because I have to go to church and I don’t think I’ll have internet there#I just realized I didn’t add an poll option for 4 oops#let me know if I need to repost this
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Boob Day... huh?
"Guess that explains the amount of gentlemen I've seen showin' their willets today..." Not a complain, really.
#[*to the tune of The Un/dert/aker's De/ad Man Wa/lk/ing theme* Gay man gaying *sick guitar plays*]#[also he may or may not be hoping a certain gentleman joins the celebration but shhh]#[ftr: 'willets' is gay slang/polari for tidds lol]#[that aside... -eyes emoji- hiii everyone~~~]#[what was supposed to be a semi-hiatus ended up being a full hiatus agh]#[july was really hectic on my end so i was unable to do anything here and i apologize about that]#[can't say i'm back on track bc i'm still busy at times and struggling to focus BUT an attempt will be made >:)c]#[just need to get back into the swing of things which i plan to do slowly/gradually as not to overwhelm myself]#[i also realized i haven't gotten to asks in a long time so i'll probs be doing that first!]#[thank you to everyone who has stuck around through this hiatus!]#[and also thank you so much for your patience to everyone who i've kept waiting for replies to threads/asks/etc ic and ooc]#[much love to you all <3<3<3]#[hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night!! <3]#;ic#;speedwagon says (( ic ))
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it’s kind of astonishing, how much my life mirrors my own work sometimes
✰ (kinda) spoilers for tag ur it part two under the cut! ✰
obviously there are bits and pieces of me, of my life, my family, my lover, my experiences, my flaws and my strengths all within each and every piece of my work; i write from experience, i write to process things, i write to explore traumas and fictionalize them—to meld fact with fiction and dramatize them and twist them into something new, something creative, something beautiful.
none of this is necessarily news to anyone who has been around me/my writing for a while, and i think many know how important, special and personal tag you’re it as an entire series is to me. but oh my gosh, guys, the way my life has literally taken on this story within the past couple of days is crazy and incredible.
i have been taken away from my drug addicted family members by my boyfriend and his beautiful family, and am now living with them for the time being. my father called me yesterday to tell me that he loves me. in all my 20-something years on this earth, i cannot remember one single time my father has said the words ‘i love you’ to me, especially on his own accord with no prompting at all.
it really threw me for a loop. i wasn’t expecting him to call, nor was i expecting him to be so nice about it. i expected him to be angry that i had finally left—my father is very sick and slowly dying, and for the past two years i have stayed with him and taken care of him as his already poor health has steadily declined, and i was sure he’d be furious with me for giving up that position and finally, finally doing what is best for me.
but he wasn’t. he was happy, he said he thinks this whole situation (aka me staying with my boyfriend) is good for me, and then he chatted with me about house of the dragon (lol) before throwing me that i love you curveball. i had already been feeling guilty about leaving, fretting over how he’d get around on his own, who will feed him throughout the day, what he’ll do if he falls, etc. and that phone call made me feel even more remorseful and, honestly, just really sad, i guess. sad that this is the reality.
i was laying in bed just mulling over it last night and i was like damn, i think some of the lessons poison!reader needs to learn are lessons that i need to learn, too. i’ve already taken so much of myself, who i am at my core, and put it in her—already exploring a lot of those guilts the family members of addicts seem to have irregardless of whether they leave the addict or not, guilts i had already been experiencing for many years (false feelings of accountability, the urge to do something, to find a way to fix it all)—but i just find it ironically funny, how similar our situations have truly become (in one aspect; obviously my boyfriend is not abusive or manipulative in any way (while dabi is)—i am in a much safer and much healthier position than my reader is) just within these past few days.
anyway, thank you SO much to everyone who has already provided me with such lovely feedback on part two!!!!! i’m ecstatic that you’re all enjoying it and i’m going to begin responding to asks within the next day or so <333 hugs and kissies to you all!! ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )
#tw clari overshares#tw drugs#i am very very very lucky and loved and that does not go unappreciated#i’ve been eating homemade veggie chili for the past three days and i’m in heaven#just being fed very well lately!!!! so many veggies!!!!!!!! probably being fed better now than i have been in my entire life tbh#anyway this is just me reflecting#i couldn’t fall asleep last night because all of this was rattling around in my head#now i’m watching the goldfinch and doing some more writing#carnival!dabi time!!!!!!#ITS SPOOKY SEASON MY FRIENEDSSSS#LETS CELEBRATE TOGETHER 👻👻👻#i love that ghost emoji i think it’s sooo cute#i hope everyone is having a wonderful day#much love to you all <33333
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and you think it has stopped when the drums and cymbals quieten down, then the beat comes back with a v e n g e a n c e —
#aaaaaaaaa why are they having a performance in a residential area anywayyyyyyyyy#it’s been going on for 10 mins and hm. has it stopped? i hope so#but aaaaaaaaaa i can’t even see them from my window and yet my ears are ringing#oddly specific cny rants pt 1 ig#freakin’ throwback to my schooling days when we’d get hired lion dance performers for our cny celebrations#there was one year when the dancers shook that lion head thing at my classmate to give him a scare lmaoo#dude was teased about being afraid of the lion for a few days after that…#though i wonder if they’ll do dragon dances next year for the year of the dragon… hmmmm… only one way to find out ig~~~~~#inedible blubbering#anyways… cny horror story sharing time g o!!!!!#i have that time i ruined a reunion dinner (and allegedly the entire family as a result) over cola as a kindergartener#and that year my grandpa went into cardiac arrest and we had to cancel our vacation to see him bc ‘this may be his last cny!!!’…#…only for said grandpa to live to see another 5-6 cnys#and there was also that year there was a huge family fight at an uncle’s house over said grandpa and his nursing hole life or something#and ofc there was that year i got a cheap cheongsam at the store and it fell apart while i was wearing it over the course of the day#and that’s not even counting the very awkward house visiting moments when i’d just hide in a corner to avoid everyone else…#man. cny isn’t really that poggers when it comes down to it… hmmmmmmmmm
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merry christmas !!! :") <3
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#yk. usually i'm so excited for christmas bcs we used to play games with my relatives on my aunt's switch but. not this year <//3#and uhm... yesterday. okay it was the worst morning of my life. i was hoping my day would get better. guess what? it just got worse.#so much worse !!! that yesterday. the day before christmas. is the worst day of my fucking year.#one of the worst in my whole life too i think! because my heart hurt so much in the morning and until the end of the day that i cried#myself to sleep wishing the pain would just stop and i was so worried and it was absolutely terrible esp because i haven't experienced#anything like that in a long time. my temperature was hot i had chest pains i felt like... tingles? through my body and. yeah#and that + the first hour of my morning. where it was just absolutely terrible and i had to kneel down while taking a shower bcs my head#hurt so much (but for another reason. maybe they're related.)#so... yeah. i hope i can still enjoy this christmas. i'm an optimistic person and i don't. let myself get put down by things like this!#i hope everyone has a wonderful christmas (if you celebrate! i'm not religious but we do bcs my fam is)#or if you don't celebrate just have a wonderful day <3#sorry to. rant/ramble. about my horrid yesterday LMFAO <//3#it sucks too bcs. yeah. a christmas that isn't as Fun and . ig kinda feels a bit lonely! empty! but it's fine <3
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a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:
paramount has come out in public support of israel
keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie
james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile
there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???
kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too
this is a complete and utter joke.
EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]
you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.
i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.
with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.
ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.
#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic movie#.sbs3#yeah no i WILL be annoying about this#because what the fuck
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hahahahahaha i am so screwed hahahahahahaha
#got an email today to send in our information for the big scholarship i got last year and guess who doesn't meet the GPA requirement!!!!!!!!#i litrally don't know what to do#i literally can't even text my friend who also got the scholarship because her grades and gpa are wonderful and mine are shit and it will#make me feel like the most stupid person in the world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyway. i am going to email the lady tomorrow and be like 'hey heres the situation pls tell me if theres anything i can do'#because i was genuinely depending on this scholarship to help me pay rent and stuff but lol#im kinda hoping that they'll take pity on me since i'm retaking the class that i failed that plummeted my gpa and once i transfer the credit#it will boost my gpa and just be like 'yeah no worries we'll send the money once you meet the requirement'#that OR they'll be like 'due to ur special circumstances of being an orphan we are taking pity on you and will work with you'#OR EVEN 'yeah whatever we'll send the money this time but if it happens again you're getting it taken away'#i genuinelly don't know what i'll do if i get it taken away#like yeah i'll have my school paid for but literally only because i took out loans#not to mention that i will have to tell everyone that i lost the scholarship and even if i don't tell them they will find out because they#do a banquet every single year to celebrate new and past recievers and everyone will notice i am not there#and i will be the biggest failure in the entire world who couldn't even meet a very simple fucking gpa requirement!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#anyway. forcing myself to not panic and feel despair yet#i am actually going to text one of my other friends who is not involved in this whatsoever and get her advice#its fine it will be fine it will all work out i am not going to lose the scholarship they literally told me even if my mom hadn't died my#senior year that they still would have given me the scholarship it is FINE i will be FINE#lacey talks
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you’re my fucking star
pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader
summary: what happens when Charles meets his celebrity crush?
warning: tiny bit of fluff, f! receiving, slight breeding kink
Charles always had his eye on you. Even during his teenage years, watching you grow up to be a model. In interviews, he’s mentioned having a crush on you, how he’d wish to meet you. He’s been to a few shows to watch you, you were absolutely stunning. He’s even bought a few magazines that has you on the cover.
He was staring again, a Nova Cora crêpe satin dress made by Vivienne Westwood hugging your curves perfectly, your hair flowing down your shoulders, your smile lighting the room up. He takes notice of every single detail about you.
The party was at the Mclaren driver’s house and you were invited. Lando and you had been childhood best friends and he always invited you to watch his races which to everyone’s surprise, they figured you were both dating which made Charles’s blood boil.
“You alright, mate?” Charles snaps out of his trance when he heard Carlos’s voice, turning around to see him handing a glass of champagne.
“M’ fine.” Charles grumps as he downs his champagne, keeping his sharp gaze on you when Lando comes from behind, placing a palm on your back.
Carlos shrugs at his grumpiness before heading off for another glass of champagne. Charles was left in his thoughts, wondering if he should make a move.
You could feel Charles’s gaze burning a hole through you, little did he know. Lando knew that he had a thing for you but he never says anything about it. You excuse yourself from the conversation as you head to the restroom and Charles took that opportunity to follow you.
Your heart slightly jumps when you see Charles leaning against the wall, straightening his back when he sees you come out of the bathroom.
He clears his throat, “Sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. I was just-”
“Following me?”
Charles’s cheek burn with embarrassment, quickly denying the fact that he was following and watching you. You smile at his expression, ‘cute’ you thought.
“I just need to use to restroom as well.” What a shit lie, Charles. He mentally curses in French, making you giggle. “At the women’s bathroom?”
“N-No, I um. I wanted to ask if you’d join me for dinner tomorrow night.” Charles was nervous, it might seem a little rushed, considering he followed you to the bathroom just to ask you out, he could’ve waited till the night ended but he didn’t.
Your heart flutters in surprise and so did your answer.
“I’d love to, Charles.” Charles couldn’t help but let out a sheepish smile, his heart feeling giddy.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” He smiles before you give him a nod, walking back to the crowd as he watches the way your body moves.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It was the night you were having dinner with Charles. You liked Charles, more than you expected. Those sneaky glances he gave when he thought you wouldn’t notice, those nice gestures he made whenever he tried to impress you.
You felt the same way he did, ever since he made his debut in formula 2. The first time you actually met him was when Lando won his first podium, everyone was rushing to take pictures of him, bumping into each other when you bumped into Charles, a digital camera of yours that you dearly loved slipping from your hands.
It broke and Charles couldn’t help but feel bad. You shrugged it off saying it was fine but Charles insisted on buying a new one for you, which he did.
He left it for you in the Mclaren garage, a small apology note that wrote,
‘sorry for breaking your camera, hope this one fills new memories, C.L.’
Reading that note instantly made you fell for him. You never told anyone, not even Lando.
You arrive at the restaurant Charles insisted on going, walking inside as you glance around to look for him. There he was.
The sight of him wearing a suit with those glasses made your clit throb, you kept a straight face before walking over to him. He sees you and his smile beams, he gets up from his seat, pulling your chair out for you to sit.
You smile, giving him a small thanks as he sits down as well.
“tu es magnifique..” you look beautiful. He mutters, his gaze taking every inch of you, his heart pounding in his chest.
“tu es beau toi-même.” you look handsome yourself. Charles stops, looking at you in surprise. He didn’t expect you to speak French. “You speak French?” He grins.
You laugh softly with a nod, shrugging. “You could say that.”
Charles lets out another grin, the love of his life a gorgeous woman who spoke French as well, you have him on a tight leash.
This is going to be a long night.
You were glad dinner went well with Charles tonight. You both spoke about your dreams, your hobbies, your careers, anything to know about each other. You listened to him explain about his love for driving, how it’s because of his late father.
You were both on the way back to his apartment, the ride silent as the soft music plays through the radio.
Charles sneaks a glance when he notices the way you bit your lip, the way your thighs were clenched. Blood rushing straight to his cock. He keeps his attention to the road, his mind filled with the thoughts of fucking you.
He parked his car in the driveway, opening the car door for you as he leads you inside his apartment. It was comfy, there were pictures of him hung up on the wall. His trophies arranged nicely on the cabinet.
He watches the way your hips move and he swallows hard, trying his best not to bend you over the couch and fuck you.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you shake your head, “I’m alright, thanks.”
Your breathing becomes shaky when you face Charles, his body moving towards yours as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you swore you felt his hard cock pressed against your clothed pussy.
“Charles..” you whisper, your breath hitting his.
“Hm?” his eyes find yours, his fingers sliding down your back, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. He’s wanted this for years, to touch you, to taste you.
“Fuck me, Charles.”
That’s all he wanted to hear. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist before he lays you down on the couch, pulling your legs apart before he starts kissing the insides of your thighs.
His nose nudges your clothed pussy before he rips your panties off, sucking on your clit.
You throw your head back, letting out pornographic moans as he continues to lick your pussy.
“So fucking sweet.” He murmurs, sucking harder which makes you clamp your thighs around his head but his hands keeps a firm grip on them to hold you down.
You were a whimpering mess, so close to coming. Charles then slides in two fingers and you moan, gripping his hair tighter before he groans. He could feel you clenching around his fingers and it only takes five seconds for you to cum when he whispers.
“Come for me, jolie fille.” pretty girl. And you do, your cum dripping down his fingers and he licks them clean, groaning at how sweet you taste. “So sweet, baby.”
Charles then undos his pants, letting it drop to the floor. His cock hard, the tip red and swollen before he slides inside of your slick, wet pussy. “Charles!” you gasp, shutting your eyes as he starts to fucks you.
“You’re so fucking tight, mon ange.” my angel. He pants out, his glasses fogging up made him look hotter and you lean in, smashing your lips against his, his tongue slipping in to taste you.
You both were close to coming, the sound of your skins slapping filled the room. Charles couldn’t take it anymore as he whimpers out.
“Cum for me, baby.” You let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back as you finally cum. His cum shooting inside of you, loading your pussy up.
He kisses your forehead gently before holding you in his arms, both your breaths heavy when he whispers.
“I think I’m in love.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
hope you guys enjoyed it!!
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I saw a couple of people do this so :))!! Why not lol <33
You just leave messages on the tree in the the of ornaments :))
#thought it would be fun since. tomorrow is going to be difficult lol and!#i wont be on :))!#but to everyone who is celebrating something!!#i hope you have a wonderful time!!! and that it is a joyous time for you!!
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🧁🎀IT GIRL GUIDE 🧁🎀
This is a guide to help you become an IT girl . The term IT girl isn't same for everyone . For some it means a girl who has achieved a high celebrity status at a young age. For some, it means a girl who takes care of herself . In kpop , this title is mostly given to the ones who stay relevant for a longer time , have alot of brand deals & has made alot of impact on others - especially in fashion. What does being an IT girl means to you ?
🎀Tips to become an IT girl 🎀
1) Healthy Skin
I have noticed how the most popular IT girls have healthy , clear and glass skin . For example : Song Jia, Jang Wonyoung , Jennie etc . They all have clear skin. Try to visit a dermatologist, get to know your skin type and develop a skin care routine which suits you. Get enough sleep , stay hydrated , don't touch your face with dirty hands & don't pick your pimples .
2)Workout
Wonyoung , Song Jia & Jennie take great care of their bodies . You must have seen Jennie's instagram posts , she is consistent & practices pilates daily. Wonyoung & Jia also practice pilates to stay in shape . Here is a video of them practicing pilates , click here for wonyoung & click here for song jia . Karina also workouts to maintain her body. This video can motivate you.
It's not necessary that you need to do pilates just because Wonyoung , Jia or Jennie does it , if you don't like pilates , find any other exercise like yoga,HIIT , cardio etc or any sport like swimming , badminton etc . Basically , just find any exercise whether it's pilates , cardio etc or sport like swimming , badminton etc to keep yourself in shape . Don't limit exercise to only weight loss , it will not only help your physical health but will help your mental health too !
3) Fashionsta
An IT girl should know how to choose outfits which compliment her . Get to know your body type and experiment with different kind of style to know which style suits you . You can take inspiration from celebrities too !
4) Elegance
Wonyoung , Jia , Jennie , Nayeon , Irene , Karina, Bae Suzy etc . These all IT girls are elegant . Wonyoung radiates princess & royalty vibes because of her elegance . Maintain a good posture which will make you appear elegant and confident . Be gentle & kind . Have a good grammar & vocabulary. Read more. Have a signature fragrance . Maintain personal hygiene. Here are some posts which have more tips on how to look elegant - this one by @malusokay & this one by @femmefatalevibe
5) Confidence & Self Love
Wonyoung , Song Jia , Irene , Jennie , Nayeon etc. These all IT girls have confidence& love themselves. They are confident in themselves .They put themselves first .Improving your self concept can also help 🤭. Remember what Wonyoung said ? She said how she only tends to give herself love . Song jia also said that she really loved herself & her phone wallpaper was herself ! Also don't chase anyone , chase your goals . Spend your time creating a beautiful garden & the butterflies will come !! This post by @girlbloggerbby has wonderful self love tips , I hope it helps you ! Also this post by @malusokay & this one by @ribbonie
6) TRENDSETTER
All these it girls are not only fashion icons but also trendsetters.Don't try to be like anyone else , take inspiration If you want to ! Learn from everyone, follow no one . Be your own trend setter. Don't follow trends , SET THEM !!
7) IDAF attitude
People can be really cruel & harsh sometimes . When it comes to social media, I would say these days , most of the time , comment section is always full of hatred. Song Jia got alot of hate for the stupid fake clothes scandal and she still gets hate till now but she doesn't allow it to affect her anymore. She is just busy in improving herself & her life. She doesn't let hate get to her. Wonyoung , Karina, nayeon etc they all get hate for just breathing but they don't let the negativity get to them . Stop seeking validation from others and don't care about their opinions . Most of the time we get hate when we have done nothing wrong , it's better to realize our worth at that time & know that people often project their own insecurity on others . I hope this post by @prettieinpink helps you & I have affirmations too related to seeking self validation , not external. Idaf mentality affirmations by @vixeneptune .
8) Have hobbies
This is inspired from Jia , she always spend time with herself & her hobbies . It can be anything - singing , dancing , writing poetry , painting, cooking etc . It doesn't have to make sense to others , just do it for you and your own happiness. You don't need to master It as well , write the most rubbish poetry in the world , it doesn't matter , as long as it makes you happy . Don't try to seek validation for your hobbies as well . If you like it , then just do it .
9) Be smart & hardworking
Wonyoung got 100/100 in science , English and Korean. She also won several math and science competitions . Romanticize studying & being smart . Read more & give your best in studies ! Nayeon , Wonyoung , Jia , Karina , Irene , Jennie etc they all are extremely hardworking .
10 ) Be mysterious
Song jia , Wonyoung , Jennie , Irene, Alexa Demie etc are mysterious . Don't reveal too much about yourself . Be more private . Keep your goals & emotions a secret . Most of the time people can use your secrets against you too or demotivate you when you share your goals with them .
11) Affirm
This tip is probably the most easiest and simple one . You can manifest being an IT girl!! Just affirm like you are an IT girl . Act like her& affirm and you will become one! You can also use the Jia , Wonyoung , Jennie etc affirmations to become like them! Wonyoung & Jia affirmations by @magic-irl . Wonyoung & Irene affirmations by @heejinisoutofideas . Wonyoung , Jia & Jennie affirmations made by me !! Alexa demie is also considered an IT girl & Meghan also. Affirmations by @nevillesgod for Alexa & @magic-irl for meghan . It girl affirmations by @vixeneptune . More affirmations for it girl by @cyber-f4iry . It girl vaunt by me .
#affirmations#law of assumption#self concept#neville goddard#master manifestor#it girl#loa#self concept affirmations#affirm and persist#assume and persist#it girl mentality#it girl journey#wonyoungism#wonyoung motivation#song jia#manifesting tips#self care#self love#how to manifest#affirm your life#dream life#self growth#self confidence#self improvement#self development#dream girl#that girl#it girl energy#girlblogging#girlblogger
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Forget Me Not | 5
It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.
WC: 4.4k
Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!
a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
-------------------------------------
Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?
He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.
He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.
"Az?"
Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-
"Feyre, get Madja."
Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.
"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.
Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.
"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"
Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.
He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.
The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.
"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.
"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"
He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...
"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.
As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.
It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.
Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.
Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.
He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.
He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.
Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.
His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”
He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.
“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”
Yeah, Rhys was not happy.
Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.
You’re no hero. You’re a joke.
Your hands are the ones hurting me.
That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.
“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.
He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.
“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.
Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.
“Who?”
Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.
Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”
“Does she know?”
He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”
He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.
"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.
"Enough."
His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."
Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."
"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."
Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."
"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."
Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."
He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.
“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”
Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”
The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.
Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.
Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.
But now with what you had said…
“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.
“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”
His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”
Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”
Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.
“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.
He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”
-------------------------------------
You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.
Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.
Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.
The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.
You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.
You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…
The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.
The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.
And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.
You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.
And you hadn’t even meant them.
Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?
Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.
Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.
Did that not make you so much worse?
You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.
If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.
It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.
Azriel.
The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.
Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.
“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.
No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.
Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.
When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.
You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.
You killed him.
And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.
As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.
Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.
You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.
It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.
You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.
Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.
Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.
You nearly caved into yourself.
Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.
Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…
You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.
“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.
You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.
Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.
"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.
But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.
You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.
At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.
You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.
It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.
Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?
His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.
Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.
But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.
Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.
You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.
You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.
The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.
You hated yourself.
-------------------------------------
In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.
She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.
The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.
Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.
“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”
You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.
You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.
“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.
You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”
“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”
Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.
“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”
Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.
“Sure. But you must be kind.”
You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.
But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.
You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.
But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.
Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.
First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.
Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.
I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.
I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.
Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.
You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.
Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.
Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.
In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.
I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.
You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.
Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.
Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.
You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.
And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.
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