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#i do it a lot i find it really fun and also i hate everyone who does it
silverskye13 · 1 day
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could I ask how far into building you are when it comes to the uhhh
court of remembrance? was it court? church? order! the order of remembrance lol
how far have you build out how they work, like their common routines/rituals/etc.
I was considering making my hels!oc part of em cause the hermit-adjacent/"original" player version of my sona is really big on documenting things as they have poor memory, and I want that to be something that ties the two together? if that makes sense?
I'm so sorry this got so long. I. Have a lot of fun world building.
My notes on the Order of Remembrance, as cohesively as I can jot them down, below:
Sooo, when I was figuring out hels stuff, the Order of Remembrance [OR for short] kinda turned up as the equivalent of a culture developing an afterlife, in a world where "afterlife" demonstrably doesn't exist. What would you replace with the idea of an eternal spirit/soul, in a world where superstition and religion still exist? What do you cope with? How do you comfort? Who fills the gaps and holes in the community that people slip through, and why? What informs purpose and meaning?
Memory, the importance of remembrance, the idea that you owe it to the people around you to remember they existed, and that existence affected your life. The idea that you, as an individual, can make someone's life matter by celebrating them, mourning them, even hating them. The universe is indifferent. The greatest sin a helsmet can commit is being indifferent as well.
This started the Remembrance Walls, which gave them importance as landmarks and places of spirituality. And any place with importance deserves protection, preservation, and accessibility.
OR probably started as a small neighborhood collective dedicated to preserving the Remembrance Walls. Which turned into being the people who also supplied the bricks made for those walls, and helping people carve them. Which turned into people who would check in with folks in the neighborhood that hadn't been seen in awhile, making sure they were safe, and taking their names down if they were gone. Eventually a collective turns into an organization, and the ritual of that collective turns into a religion. Now there are helsmets who dedicate their lives, or large sums of money and material goods, to the church. In turn, the church gives back to the community in any way they can, because the more people are involved with each other, the more memories they make, the more that can be preserved.
This is also why OR is so big. Successful people in hels want a legacy that's remembered, so you put your name on every landmark in town -- the OR cathedral is a massive landmark. Memory is important [even the most self centered and heinous need purpose and fulfillment] so a lot of people associate themselves with the church in some way or another. Being remembered is a goal for everyone, not just the community minded. The OR will be important until memory stops being important.
The Staff:
Members directly serving the OR in an official capacity are: Priests/clerics [with one presiding Head/High Priest], scribes, clerks, historians, brickmakers, knights [and squires], and one or two paladins. Various members of the official congregation [they consider all of hels their congregation, given everyone deserves to be remembered, but the official congregation are those who actually attend the church services and functions] will also work for the church if they can donate relevant skills -- this is a part of the church's community building. They will seek needs and fill them with skilled individuals within the church or, if they don't have a recommendation, will contact other churches for members of their congregation. If you need a stone mason for a project, a jeweler for a custom piece, or someone to provide wheat for your new bakery, and don't know where to find one, asking at the OR cathedral is a good place to start.
Priests: Deal with the more spiritual and communal aspects of memory and remembrance. The church has divided the city into districts, and every district has at least one priest who regularly attends it, though the church's goal is to have 3 per district. Every district has at least one remembrance wall, and it's the priest's job to know all the names on that wall, as well as to know as many people as they can in their district, so they can do regular check ins on their well-being. They hold services to add new names to their walls, host and organize community events for their districts [plays, cookouts, parties, gatherings, etc]. They don't pray in the traditional sense -- Memory is more of an idea than a true deity -- but their prayers involve memorizing names, events, dates. A lot of priests will write songs and ballads to aid in this, which they will perform for each other or sing at organized events.
Scribes/clerks/historians: Exactly what it says on the tin. Stationed at the church, these guys get down to the brass tacks of putting ink to paper and codifying memory. They keep accurate records of everything from city economics to books written to personal anecdotes, and they guard their work jealously. Transcribing is a job of great importance, and accurate scribes are revered by the church. The OR has been known to pay a small fortune to individuals who can write quickly, accurately and legibly. Most of the statues decorating their cathedral are scribes revered for their dedication to their craft. Historians meanwhile function as both researchers and, to an extent, unintentional journalists, following developments in hels so they can document them as they happen. While the OR doesn't own news or run a newspaper, the handful of newspapers in town are all run by people who either used to work for the OR, or have friends on the OR historical staff.
[It's important to note the historians and clerks aren't detectives or police. They find information and write it down, they do not solve crimes or prosecute criminals. However, their thoroughness and impartiality means they're often called on as witnesses and informants to crimes. They have been attacked before for either sticking their noses in business someone didn't want remembered, or for providing information someone wanted ignored/erased. Their documents hold a lot of weight.]
This division is also in charge of the OR's extensive library. There is one main library in the cathedral, where every collected written work the library can get its hands on exists. They collect everything from journals, to poetry, to fiction writing, to recipe books. Anything written that can be remembered. They also keep transcripts of hymns and songs written by priests and knights, and up to date registries of the names on the remembrance walls. There is a second, public library that is free for hels to access, which contains every copy the scribes have gotten around to making from the main library. They encourage people to make their own copies of the library works they borrow, and can be paid to make specialty copies of popular works.
[Given how hard it is to grow large amounts of paper in hels, most books in the OR collection are written on vellum (hog skin). Almost every off-world smuggler in hels has a regular customer with the OR if they collect paper/sugar cane on their travels. OR has a current project trying to put every book they own on paper (The Nice Copy TM) and every 2nd or 3rd copy of a book on vellum. Only their best scribes are allowed to write paper copies.]
Knights: Knights are a relatively new addition to the OR staff, in that they weren't really needed when hels was small. As hels got bigger, however, and things like vandalism and crime became big and unruly, knights eventually made their way onto the scene, starting as priests with particularly good PVP skills, and eventually graduating to in-house trained fighters. You can still see their priestly roots in their practices. They too are assigned to districts. They too memorize the names on their associated walls and try to make themselves known in the neighborhoods they patrol. Instead of organizing events and focusing on the social aspects, however, they focus on making a safe place for people to live. They aren't police. Unless the crime is strictly related to memory [for example, destruction of stones on the remembrance walls] they don't track people down and drag them off to jail. They do help the community though. They will stop active crimes, they will stay with people who feel unsafe, they break up street fights, they escort their priests in rougher parts of town, they volunteer to clear out mobs that wander into the city, and have even been known to simply help with building projects for people who need a few extra hands around. Because of their generally neutral disposition towards events in hels [they protect individuals and their church, instead of business or gang interests] they are sometimes asked to be conflict mediators for battling factions in the city who are trying to reach a negotiation point. As a whole, the knights can always be found walking in groups of 2-5 on their routes. They're very rarely seen alone.
The Cathedral:
Paladins: Paladins are an enigmatic rarity for OR. Generally speaking, a paladin is a knight or priest of a given order embued with supernatural power by a deity. OR, as a godless religion, shouldn't be able to get them -- and yet sometimes they do manage to pop up. Some people think they're evidence of a Universe that actually does care about hels, sending someone who can literally fight for the rights of people to be remembered. Only a handful of paladins have ever been called, and they seem to coincidentally pop up whenever someone has done great harm to memory: massive destruction of remembrance walls, burning books, intentionally trying to erase someone from history, fraud. Generally they are compelled, like a very angry sleepwalker, to track down whoever was responsible and stop them. Sometimes this entails violence, but more often than not it involves the perpetrator being imprisoned for a very long time by what amounts to a preternaturally knowledgeable lawyer. It is probably from the OR paladins that the rumors first started that, if you angered the OR, they would have you forgotten [who else could strike someone from the memory of the world, than a guardian of memory itself?]. When they're not actively pursuing holy justice, the paladins look and act pretty normal, though their memory skills are uncanny, near perfect, and they have the habit of just Knowing Things they shouldn't be able to -- speaking and reading languages they've never learned, prophetic visions, etc. When they're being compelled to justice, they describe it as being "dreamlike". In the same way in a dream you Know you can fly despite it being untrue in reality, a compelled OR paladin Knows a destruction of memory has happened, and is unable to stop pursuing that destruction until it's been righted. In the moment, paladins describe the feeling as intensely peaceful: the ability to Know and be Sure. The only frustration is when forces actively try to hinder their task. Because of the intensity of their compulsion, they often have to fight to keep up with basic needs, and it's not uncommon for paladins to lose weight, fall into sleep deprived psychosis, and collapse from exhaustion. Paladins released from their compulsion often have to be nursed back to health again, though none yet have expressed regrets about the rough treatments of their bodies. The way they see it, whatever force compelling them has never been human, and therefore doesn't understand the toll it takes on a living body.
As with all paladins in hels, while they're recovering or in between compulsions, they tie a peace knot around their weapon to symbolize their dormancy.
Squires and apprentices: alongside their regular training with their chosen staff and/or clergy, squires and apprentice clerics/scribes/historians work as the general help staff of the cathedral. If errands need running, someone needs contacted, a mantle needs dusted, an odd job needs filled, they're the ones who catch the chores. They also have the very important responsibility of brick making -- or helping with brick making. The cathedral does employ master brick makers, but those brick makers often need extra hands, so every day the squires and apprentices set aside time to make bricks. This is a time of concentration and meditation, and the apprentices are encouraged not to talk during the process. When each batch has finished baking, the master brickmaker working with the group will call an end to the silence. When this ritual started, the ending was a lot more reverent. Over the years though, the brickmakers have taken more joy in their work than solemnity. It's not uncommon for the brickmakers to break the silence with increasingly bad jokes, rewarding the apprentices that laugh first.
The Head/High Priest: The high priest differs from the other priests and clerics by taking on mostly administrative work. They do not work alone. They have a board of 10 priests, clerks and scribes that help keep things balanced. Balance is the high priest's main objective. The OR excels because it stays as neutral as possible in all of hels's affairs. It does its best to owe nothing to anyone, repays all its debts, and doesn't work with one or two of the various hels factions exclusively. Its goal is to remain as uncorrupt as possible in a system rampant with political and financial corruption. Hels is a place full of evil halves and dark mirrors, a lot of very selfish and manipulative people end up in power, so it's a hard line to walk.
The First Church of Hels, also known as the Cathedral of Remembrance, was the first dedicated church erected in hels. It started out much smaller, a netherbrick building with a brickworks in the back for providing stones. As they grew in importance, so too did the building, until eventually the large cathedral was erected. It was a massive effort from many different hels denizens, and almost every room in the cathedral has a place to display the names of contributors to the project, from the people who laid the mosaic tiles to the folks who soldered the stained glass. The original bricks of the first iteration of the church are enshrined as a pathway that leads through the back garden of the building to their new, much more impressive brickworks. These foundational bricks remain empty, and are blanket dedicated to any helsmet who managed to slip through the cracks in society, whose names were forgotten, never known, or never noted.
The cathedral has one main sanctuary where worship and prayer are performed. They have one holy day a week where all their various members, and any congregation who wants to join, gather to sing songs and hymns, poetry and lists. There are meditations done on works written by bygone individuals, studies and philosophies discussed. While the topics of the main service change from week to week, the basic formula of singing/recital, meditation/discussion, singing/recital happens every time. They open and end every service with the list of names added to the walls that week.
During the week, the cathedral plays host to any number of meetings and events. They have many rooms dedicated as spaces for community gatherings, from small clubs for youths to workshops to food drives. People are constantly coming and going from the place.
Because of the church's center as a place of refuge, history and memory -- and by extension, power -- it has no small amount of detractors and enemies. HumanCleo doesn't allow the OR's knights on her turf, in part because of fear of retaliation: if her gangs attack any of the Order, she risks a paladin ripping down her criminal empire brick by brick. The Demon is one of OR's paper suppliers, and has been known to try to corner and intimidate scribes sent to document his shipments. Many of the historians cannot walk the city without an escort. Even their clerks have been scouted by influential merchants who want an expert in numbers looking over their books. Scribes with a particularly steady hand have been harassed and attempted coerced about forging documents and reproducing copies of cursed books. Thieves and vandals have attempted break-ins of their treasury. They have also had to deal with gang fights and general violence at their larger events. This is where their connections with other churches come in handy. Organizations like the Church of Blood and Steel, with knight and paladins who specialize in fighting, are often contacted to help when the OR needs a little more muscle. In return, the OR will loan them use of their scribes, arrange for their monuments to be built at a discount, etc.
The OR has a few loose ties to the Colosseum. All the statues of past champions that line the corridors are designed, drafted and prototyped by OR affiliated builders. Their epitaphs are drafted by their scribes. They have a team of knights whose main job is to attend Colosseum events and study and transcribe fighting styles of the various fighters, so their martial memory isn't lost when they return to the universe. They also record the Colosseum matches, and send a copy of their notes to the showrunners for the use in writing future fighting arcs.
[Also this is just me, but I think there's a writer in hels somewhere that spends all day making serialized literature out of the Colosseum matches, and submits them to the newspaper for people to read after a match. They probably also are very grateful for the OR's Colosseum notes lol].
I think! That's! Everything! I can think of! Though I'm sure I'll remember something else in an hour! Oh well!
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jocelynhealy · 3 days
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I really enjoy reading your headcannons!
Tell me, do you have like... Very sad once? About mk kids? 👀
I m sorry if my question sounds too cruel or rude--
Oh no worries, Honey. I love torturing my kiddos. 😁
Cassie has massive imposter syndrome and anxiety around her position as a leader.
When she was a kid, both her parents didn’t have a lot of time for her and she’d find herself alone or forgotten. Now she makes a big show of herself and constantly butts into her friend’s lives so they don’t get the opportunity to forget her. She’s lost several friendships/relationships because of this in the past.
Jacqui constantly strives for perfection trying to win her dad’s approval. She idolizes him and the fact that he doesn’t approve of any of her interests or career choices hurts like hell.
Jacqui and her father fight constantly about Takeda and the two love birds had actually split up a few times in the early days of their relationship because of it. None of these break ups ever lasted long but they hurt like hell when they were separated. After it became clear Jax was never going to change his mind she just stopped bringing the topic of Takeda up altogether.
If there was a contest for who on Earth has the most abandonment issues Takeda would win by a landslide. It makes him very clingy in his relationships. After being dropped off at the Shirai Ryu by his father, a man he’s only known for all of three days, and then never hearing from him ever again, Takeda’s tiny little 8 year old mind internalized that as there being something wrong with him and that no one wanted him. He closed himself off and it took years for Hanzo to get him to open back up again. Now he clings to his relationship with the Grandmaster and for the longest time refused to acknowledge that he was anything other than Hanzo’s son since he was the only person that never walked away from him.
This is also why he tries to be liked by everyone in the room. He doesn’t want anyone to leave him. He’ll joke, he’ll smile, he’ll mediate, anything to keep the peace and keep people happy. He’ll bury his anger until it’s safe to use it in a fight, and there’s a lot of it. The little voice in his head that wants to burn everything to the ground, friends and family be damned. They’re all going to leave eventually anyway. All they’re ever going to do is hurt you. Why not hurt them back? Why not hurt them first? It’s only fair. It might even be fun. He ignores this voice as best he can.
Jin has massive trust issues. He can never take anything at face value because the last time he did he was kicked to the streets for something he couldn’t control and had no say in. You can’t trust people and can only rely on yourself. People slow you down, it’s better to go it alone. Safer.
His pride is another thing. He’s been doing things his way for this long, clearly something is working. He doesn’t need to be told what to do because he knows how to handle things himself. These people don’t know what they’re talking about and they sure as hell don’t know him. If anything they should be following his lead. He knows what he’s doing. Otherwise they should just get out of his way.
Frost has nightmares. Nightmares about her mother. Nightmares about the fighting pits. About cold nights sleeping on the streets. About beatings and screaming and hateful words. Every time she wakes up in tears. Every time she feels so weak and small and helpless. She hates it. She has to be stronger. She has to be better. She has to prove to herself, to the world, that she is stronger. Better. She’s not helpless. She’s not weak. She’s better. Better than all of them combined.
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iraprince · 3 months
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Hiii, i love your stuff and kinda from a distance really look up at you for, in my perception, being able to express yourself without giving a fuck. Thats sick dude, Im so so afraid, of absolutely everything, its nice to think like i might grow into someone less apologetic of my existence. Nice to see people just being yknow
hey, thank you, this is really really nice. the secret that is probably not a secret is that i am also deeply afraid a lot of the time lmao -- but less than i used to be, and in ways that feel less stifling and self-suffocating, if that makes sense.
like, it used to be "i'm scared that if i express myself the way i want to, everyone will find me obnoxious, so let's just sand those edges down to be safe" -- now my fears are more like "now that i'm expressing myself in a way that feels natural and real, i'm afraid that it's all stupid/vapid/not worthwhile or meaningful" (<- specifically abt my art) or "i'm happy that i talk and act the way i want to now, but what if it makes me impossible to befriend," etc etc etc. which still feels bad and puts me in a funk a lot of the time but at least it's a fear that comes After/in reaction to doing stuff, rather than a fear that STOPS me from doing stuff, you know? like, it's evolved into a kind of fear that's less in my way.
anyway. i believe you'll experience something like this, because wanting to grow is the first step of growing. the fact that u hope or wish for something different means you're already on your way. to fewer fucks!! or at least distributing the fucks u give in a way that serves u better
#stuff like accepting that i'm reserved and i'm not very accessible via messages.#or that my online tone isn't very bubbly and it's weird and uncomfortable to force it.#i stop letting fears about that shape my behavior ('i'll look mean or snotty so let's force markers of Friendliness to avoid that!!') -#- and instead act the way i want to and then trade it in for new fears that come After the action.#also a good reminder to give urself is that if ur fear is abt how other ppl perceive u (as 90% of mine is personally)#u really... can't actually control that. and being very very anxious abt it all the time is usually ur brain throwing a tantrum abt not--#--having that control. bc it is understandably very scary that u don't have that control#as much as it sucks + is terrifying the truth is the only thing u can do is ask urself 'am i behaving in a way that i'm proud of'#'am i behaving in a way that's in alignment w my values + what i think is important'#bc if the answer to that is yes and somebody hates u or is deeply offended by ur existence anyway. well. literally not ur problem#but obv being at peace w that is way way easier said than done + requires tons of practice and will take. probably. years. which is fine#i am stuck with myself. i can either contort myself forever trying to be someone everyone will like and find totally nonthreatening and-#inoffensive and in the process exhaust myself totally and never feel safe or natural myself. OR#i can say okay. so i am a kind of prickly guy with stern and drab speech patterns and close to no social energy. and i think i can still be#-sexy and fun this way. and it is up to other ppl to figure out if they can agree w me on that#ANYWAY enough rambling for now. just another one of those things i think abt a lot so i have a lot of ready-made sentences abt it in mind
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gncrezan · 21 days
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hozier was put on this earth so people could misapply and misunderstand his songs btw
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icharchivist · 6 months
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i understand the point people are making with those posts but it's always a bit funny to me when i see those posts about like "god people are so weird with how they talk about Japanese/Korean culture, imagine we do the same thing with Germany and suddenly start to drop German words into our sentences like that that'd be so weird" and it's like, yeah, i can imagine that, very well, that's what living in Europe in the late 2000s during the Tokio Hotel mania was like.
Like, unironically exactly like that.
I get the original point, i really do, but this might be the wrong example.
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definitelyuseless · 6 months
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some people on heres takes on fiction are literally so bad or just weird its like literally where did that even come from
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phas3d · 4 months
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Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute
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DRACO MALFOY
It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts
Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today
He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before
You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is
Academics, you’re better
Athletics, you’re better
Clubs and community, you’re WAY better
He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance
Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad
But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration
It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom
He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds
But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms
From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration
His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it
Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true
He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)
He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything
Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy
Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy
He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy
Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you
He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up
When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy
Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc
But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better
And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him
One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter
Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death
He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years
Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls
He plans to ruin your date and he succeed
He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food
The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up
From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you
But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug
Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again
“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry
So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage
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TOM RIDDLE
Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone
This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭
But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you
He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush
But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way
He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you
But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊
He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you
Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge
But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background
He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence
Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world
And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc
Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours
He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot
So when he follows you, you think nothing of it
But in reality, he’s watching you in depth
Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is
He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned
He listens to it daily :)
Honestly, he’s just like me fr
He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you
If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold
Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence
But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell
He was just trying to get into your pants
But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away
Instantly, he was attracted to you
He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him
He was about to do the exact same thing to you
Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move
Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day
Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭
Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them
Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them
He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more
Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get
Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts
Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received
He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable
He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)
Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are
Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen
Never ever gives up on you, no matter what
Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed
One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out
Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him
But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month
Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength
Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet
If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return
If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates
It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet
Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating
Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple
One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant
But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(
But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating
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THEODORE NOTT
He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that
You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped
And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone
Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you
When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”
He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said
“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”
When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot
Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants
With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years
You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends
He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option
He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful
Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous
He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner
Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you
Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”
You two are basically dating… just without an official title
He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him
Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭
Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH
He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project
Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way
Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him
Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do
Spoils you ROTTEN omg
Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you
He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband
Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum
“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform
He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down
Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them
He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you
Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best
You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did
Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone
Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”
But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you
They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything
But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd
Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit
He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you
He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly
Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him
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read more here! :D
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tunafruitt · 3 months
Text
--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞
SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3
[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]
Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO
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-> [ DOTTORE ]
“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”
The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.
Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.
No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)
When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3
In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.
You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.
You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???
And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.
“I can hear you, Y/N.”
“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”
“Good morning.”
“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”
“Are you asking because I have a choice?”
Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—
“Doctor, the segments have finished—“
“Oh.”
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-> [ XIAO ]
“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”
So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)
Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)
Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)
The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..
…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!
─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─
“Xiao! I found you.”
As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.
“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”
“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”
You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Your Grace?”
“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”
“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”
“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”
“… Y-Y/N..”
“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”
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FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling
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bunni-v1 · 7 months
Note
Could I ask for your headcanons on how the staff would take care of/look after the reader? I’m a sucker for the fics where they take a parental role
How The Staff Takes Care of You
TW: None!
Info: Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Vargas and Sam x Reader (Platonic)
🍓This one is short but sweet. I’ve spent a lot of time on the event, but I want to start on other requests outside of it too. This one looked fun and easy so I got it out within about an hour or so. I hope you enjoy!
Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck
Crowley
-Lets get one thing straight, Crowley does not take care of you
-It’s hard to even say that Crowley cares for you. It’s hard to say he cares for anyone other than himself.
-Still… he does do some things correctly.
-He gives you a place to live (which he threatened to take away), food (which he threatened to take away), and funding (which he… threatened to take away).
-He DOES come to ACTUALLY care for you, just… not in the traditional sense, I suppose. 
-He has frequent check ins with you to ensure that you are doing well.
-Occasionally he stops by ramshackle just to chat with you and ensure you have company.
-Believe it or not, he set up a lot of the things you do specifically so that he can ensure you are getting along with other students and have a support system here.
-He lets you keep grim around — even though he has cause countless issues for student and staff alike.
-He’s like your weird uncle. You hardly ever actually see Crowley around, but you know that he is looking out for you in his own way. 
-Thats all that matters, right?
Crewel
-Crewel is also anther oddball when it comes to how he shows that he cares.
-He is… aware that Crowley does not do a very good job at caring for you, and he’s a bit easier on you because of that.
-He’s probably harder on you homework-wise than most other students though.
-He wants to see you excel and succeed in his class.
-It would be the biggest fuck you to Crowley ever, so he works hard to make sure that you prove yourself to everyone.
-He makes sure that you’re sleeping and eating well, and if he sees that you are not, he makes you stay ofter class to talk to him so you both can find a way to solve this issue.
-If it’s money issues keeping you from eating, don’t worry. He’s now making you a lunch — or at least he gives you some money to eat.
-The nicest thing he does for you, however, is he gets you clothes.
-Your uniform is pretty… bad, and he feels bad for you.
-So, he takes matters into his own hands and gets you a nice new one that actually fits you.
-He and Trein have a rivalry over who treats you better and who you like more. (Trein is winning by like one point and it drives Crewel crazy).
-Crewel very much is the one to tell you “Boys are stupid, don’t date — especially not the ones here.” Lol
-Again, more like a very ambitious uncle who just really loves his family but never wants kids of his own.
-Oh, also, his dogs love you. So that’s a plus.
Trein
-He has two girls of his own, and he really does love kids, he’s just… jaded from years of being a teacher for snotty kids like Ace.
-You though? He likes you a lot.
-You’re a troublemaker, sure, but you always try your best in classes and have been making the best of your situation.
-Speaking of, Trein hates the way Crowley is so lackadaisical about your position and treatment.
-You are a living person? How could he just leave you to almost starve or freeze in your rickety old dorm?
-Trein visits your dorm frequently after his school day is done, just to ensure you have food and are able to stay warm/cool in the respective seasons.
-If he finds that you do not have enough food or cannot afford it, he talks to both Sam and Crowley and scolds them into lowering prices for you and raising your passive income.
-He still buys you things with his own money.
-If you fall asleep in class and you look like you need it, he won’t bother you. 
-Tells you that you can always come to him if you’re having trouble with anyone, and he will most definitely deal with them.
-Do you need extra help with homework, he’ll stay late just to ensure you’re understanding the material. 
-Seriously the number one dad at NRC, and he’s really happy to have you around since you remind him so much of his girls.
Vargas
-The resident promoter of a healthy lifestyle and great workout routine at NRC.
-You don’t really spend that much time around Vargas, so you two aren’t close, but he knows about you through the other members of staff.
-He knows how Crowley treats you, and while he isn’t one to play favorites… he can make an exception.
-Especially since he knows you aren’y always eating enough thanks to your limited budget.
-The last thing he needs is a student passing out in his class.
-He still pushes you to work out and participate, but if you’re looking like a ghost when you walk into class he’s going to make you go change and get some rest.
-He’s a gym nut, not a monster.
-He’s good with dieting though, so he’s able to tell Trein and Crewel and Same what would be best for you to eat in your condition.
-So yeah, he’s likely the least involved in your life, but he does help you from behind the scenes.
-It’s better than Crowley, so that’s a win in his books.
Sam
-Other than Trein, Sam probably sees you the most frequently out of everyone.
-You come into his shop at least once a day for something.
-At first he treated you the same as every other student, charing you ridiculously hight prices for typically cheap stuff.
-Then one day you came in looking for something to eat, cause you’d run out of what little Crowley gave you, but you didn’t have enough money.
-He nearly cried at how heartbroken you looked when you realized you couldn’t get anything.
-He gave you the whole meal for free, didn’t even ask for what you had.
-Trein is also on his ass about how high his prices are, so he purposefully has a “discount” every time you’re there to buy something.
-He also gets to know you through your shopping and makes and effort to talk to you to feel out where you are physically and mentally.
-He reports what he notices back to Trein and Crowley, just to make sure someone who has the power to is taking care of you.
-You’ve got a friend in Sam, that’s for sure.
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Note
You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.
Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!
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༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
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— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader
— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?
— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!
— wc: 3136
⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)
masterlist | AO3
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As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.
“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 
You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 
You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.
“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.
“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”
“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.
“Absolutely not -”
“What? No -”
Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.
“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”
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“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.
You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.
His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 
It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.
Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.
“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 
“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 
Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 
“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.
Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.
“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.
Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.
“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”
Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.
He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 
Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 
Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.
Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.
But you were going to.
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You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.
The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.
“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 
Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.
The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”
“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.
“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”
Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.
“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 
“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.
“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”
You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”
“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”
And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.
Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.
“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”
“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”
His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”
When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.
“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 
His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.
“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 
The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.
After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.
“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.
He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”
He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.
You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.
“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.
His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.
“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 
“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.
“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 
Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.
“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.
“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 
“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”
“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”
He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.
But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.
“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 
You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.
He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.
You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.
You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 
Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.
Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.
“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 
The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.
“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.
“Mphm! More - I need more.”
“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.
“I - I’m gonna cum.” 
It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.
Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.
It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.
“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”
“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.
There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”
“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 
“How about ice cream?”
“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna
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910 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 5 months
Text
task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.
Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.
Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.
Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.
Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.
Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.
Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!
Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.
Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.
Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!
Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?
Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?
Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.
Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?
BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.
Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
707 notes · View notes
wordsarelife · 2 months
Text
—karma
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pairing: theo nott x fem!hufflepuff reader (a weasley sibling)
summary: karma is the way you wear his jersey, making sure his team will lose the game
warnings: sexual references, reader is implied to be shorter than theo
notes: i imagined the jersey a bit more like a basketball one or a lacrosse trikot
“here” theo was holding a folded shirt in your direction. you had been sitting on his bed for the past hour, leaning against the bed frame while you were reading your book.
he had spent the time laying with his head in your lap, enjoying your fingers combing through his curls, until he had stood up a few minutes ago.
“what?” you asked looking up from your book. it took you a few seconds to register that the piece of fabric in his hand was his quidditch jersey.
“here” he repeated, throwing it down on the bed.
“yeah, i heard that” you smiled, unfolding the shirt to inspect it further “is something wrong with it? does it have a hole you want me to fix or something?”
theo laughed unamused at your bad joke. “i think i have enough magical knowledge to fix it myself if it had a hole” he shook his head “i want you to wear it tonight”
“tonight?” you asked and he nodded. he was dead serious and you began to laugh. “no” you shook your head “absolutely not”
“come on, baby” he pleaded, sitting down in front of you, pushing the fabric in your direction.
“it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if you guys were playing against ravenclaw or even hufflepuff, i could care less then. but you’re playing against gryffindor, you’re playing against my brothers”
“so what about it?” theo was trying to let his eyes appear bigger than they were, knowing that it would actually help his case.
“what about it?” you repeated laughing, not falling for his tactic of manipulation “everything is wrong with that. even my house will probably be offended when they see me wearing a slytherin jersey. i mean no one really cheers for slytherin, apart from, yeah you guessed it, slytherin”
it was no secret that every house had a bit of a distaste for slytherin. even your house, hufflepuff, which was normally filled with generous and nice people, was cheering for gryffindor. and of course your brothers and your sister were in gryffindor, so it only added to the appeal of cheering for them.
“they would not” theo shook his head “and that’s offensive! a lot of people want us to win, people that aren’t in slytherin”
“name three people” you said, crossing your arms and wearing a winning smile. he was searching for words but eventually just gave up.
“baby” he muttered with that sweet voice he only used when you guys were.. let’s just say in private. you hated to admit it, but it made you weak in the knees.
“theo” you whined, noticing his hand finding a place on your thigh and his thumb rubbing over the exposed skin beneath your skirt “it’s probably way too big, it’ll look weird”
“you could never look weird” theo muttered.
you rolled your eyes, knowing that he had already tricked you into agreeing, the soft kisses he was pestering all over your face also did not help you to stay strong. “okay” you sighed, feeling satisfaction at the big smile that broke out on your boyfriends face.
you pushed the shirt into your bag next to the bed, going back to your book, theo happily cuddling back into your lap.
well, you thought, if you had to wear his shirt, their might also be a way to have fun with it and secure gryffindor’s win in doing so.
even if that way meant to possibly embarrass you in front of the whole school, including your siblings.
but what had do be done.. had to be done, or atleast you figured as much. and in the end, most of them would probably thank you for doing what was needed to make sure gryffindor won. because even though no one wanted to see slytherin win, everyone had to admit that they were strong opponents.
it was just a few hours later, that you parted ways with theo, going back to your dorm to get ready for the match.
“hey, y/n!” hannah, your roommate greeted when she saw you walk through the door.
you repeated the greeting, before you took the jersey from your bag, holding it up in front of her. “do you want to help gryffindor to win tonight?”
she smiled brightly at you, already figuring that you had something mischievous planned by how you were smiling.
it took about an hour to get you ready for the game. hannah did her best in helping you. you had put on a bit of makeup and curled your hair, but hannah had made the most important move, sticking the jersey close to your body, so that it was fitting like a tight dress, not leaving much to the imagining or much fabric to flow down your legs. you were glad that it was long enough to cover your arse, but also not long enough to keep theo’s eyes off of you.
he always got weak when he could see your legs and he had told you before that it was hard to keep his eyes away when you were wearing something tight, making him remember that there was only a thin fabric keeping your body clothed.
tonight you would use that to your advantage.
you were lucky that it was still summer, making it possible after all to wear something so revealing.
you and hannah walked into the direction of the stadium, before she hugged you goodbye quickly, walking off into the hufflepuff stand, while you walked towards where your brother and sister and your friends were sitting in the gryffindor stand. if that alone didn’t make you enemy of the night you weren’t sure what did. it was really a bit daring, sitting in the middle of the gryffindors, while wearing a slytherin jersey, but you knew that you would stick out to theo even more that way.
you slid in the seat in between ron and ginny, greeting them.
“woah” ron raised his hand, looking you up and down “what are you wearing?” his eyes had grown bigger once they had reached the end of your made up dress, probably expecting it to be a tad bit longer.
“what?” ginny asked “i think she looks terrific!”
“she does” hermione smiled next to ron.
ron could not believe what he was hearing. “are you hearing yourselves? she’s literally wearing a slytherin jers— whatever that even is”
“he boyfriend plays for slytherin” hermione shrugged, matter of factly.
ron was busy ignoring hermione and shrugging off his thin jacket. he put it around you shoulders quickly. “you’re basically naked” he argued “please cover yourself at least a bit”
“that’s slut-shaming” ginny crossed her arms and ron looked horrified at that. you almost had to laugh at your brothers expression.
“i-i didn’t mean” ron stuttered, trying to justify what he had said “i wasn’t calling you a slut, i swear”
“i know” you interrupted his rambling “it’s alright ron, i’ll wear the jacket if it makes you happy, it’ll work even better then”
“what will work?” hermione was now bending over ron, ever so interested in what you had planned.
“well, gryffindor will win tonight, let’s just say that”
“i like the sound of that” ginny rubbed her hands together.
“cheating isn’t fair, y/n” hermione furrowed her eyebrows “nor is it allowed”
“i know, hermione” you laughed “and we won’t cheat, i promise. it just happens to be amazing for me and very bad for him that my boyfriend is incredibly attracted to me”
“you’re gonna distract him with seduction?” ginny asked and she was even more excited than you. you nodded and she grinned.
“ew” ron grimaced “can’t you please keep that kind of stuff behind closed doors? i don’t want to see your boyfriend get a hard-on in the middle of the quidditch field”
you furrowed your eyebrows at your brother. “do you want to win or not?”
he seemed unsure, but then eventually nodded.
“that’s what i thought” you smiled, patting his head “it will be over faster than you will even notice it happening, i promise”
“sure” ron muttered, hiding his face in his hands.
there wasn’t time to argue about anything else, because the game began.
the minute the teams flew onto the field you were looking for theo, trying to spot him in the haze of green uniforms. your eyes landed on him eventually and you smiled.
as if he could feel your eyes on him, he turned his head at you. you took that as the perfect opportunity to get rid of ron’s jacket, pulling down the jersey a bit so your cleavage was showing. you could practically watch him slowly lose his mind.
“it’s working” ginny muttered next to you
“i know” you smirked, noticing that theo was still standing perfectly still, watching you across the field.
mattheo, who had noticed his friend had frozen in the middle of the field, took it upon himself to shake theo from his trance.
“what’s wrong with you?” he asked, pinching the boys elbow.
theo did not answer mattheos question so the latter tried to simply follow the eyes of his friend.
“shit” mattheo muttered when he noticed you sitting in the front row of the gryffindor stands, basically wearing nothing. “fuck” he added “this is even too much for me”
that seemed to have been enough to free theo from his trance “what the fuck, riddle?”
“i’m just a man” mattheo shrugged. he then just narrowly escaped theo’s hand, that had been coming close to hit him.
“get it together, man” theo rolled his eyes, concentrating back on the game, but still having you in the back of his mind.
for the first half of the game, slytherin and gryffindor were close to each other considering points, when one of them had one more, the other quickly scored the next, always keeping them even.
“i don’t think it’s working” ron said after some time of eyes jumping between either side of the field.
“it will” you assured.
and you would be right. during the second half of the game, the sides were switched and theo was now much closer to you, making it even harder for him to not look at you.
you turned your head to the slytherin side, smiling at theo and also involuntarily mattheo, who was flying next to your boyfriend.
theo was caught up in the moment once again, watching the way you flipped your hair over your shoulder or the way your lips moved as you threw a kiss in his direction.
a movement next to him made him perk up. it was mattheo once again.
“did you just catch my girlfriends kiss?” theo asked offended and a bit surprised at the same time.
“..no?” mattheo lied.
“stop lying i saw you do it” theo muttered “stop looking at her”
“how do you know the kiss wasn’t supposed for me?” mattheo asked and theo was surprised that he seemed to actually be serious.
“you mean how i know that my girlfriends kiss wasn’t for you? take a wild guess, mate”
mattheo rolled his eyes, giving theo the peace and quiet to continue looking at you.
madam hooch blew the whistle, indicating that the second half of the game had begone. while everyone started moving, mattheo and theo stayed right where they were.
their staring was eventually interrupted by one very angry malfoy. “hey idiots!” he called and theo and mattheo turned to him in surprise “how about you concentrate on the fucking game and make out with y/n later?”
“sure” mattheo and theo answered at the same time.
theo send mattheo an angry look. “you are not going to make out with my girlfriend”
“we don’t know what she’s into yet” mattheo shrugged, once again dodging a slap from his friend.
“oh we do know” theo assured, before he flew across the field, picking up his position again.
the rest of the game was going a lot less smoother than the first half. theo was missing almost every goal he was trying to throw, accidentally hitting enzo once, almost making the boy fall of the broom.
it seemed that whatever enzo did, had made him the victim of theo and mattheo slipping up. mattheo actually managed to hit enzo’s broom with a bludger, almost making him fall down onto the field. luckily blaise had been able to stabalise the broom before it could come to that.
to your surprise neither fred or george came over to ridicule you for wearing the jersey. of course you knew that they were much more laid back than ron, but more often than not they liked to play the big brothers and give theo a hard time. even if they secretly liked him.
they seemed delighted at your plan working the way it did, using theo’s distraction to their advantage, scoring multiple points in a row.
“what’s wrong with the both of you?” blaise muttered absentmindedly, when he had to, once again, call for enzo to move before mattheo’s bludger could hit him.
by the end of the game, slytherin was behind by a hundred points, enzo had a black eye from the one time theo had accidentally succeeded in hitting him instead of the goal, mattheo and theo had flown into each other multiple times and ron was wearing an impressed smile.
“well, look at that” ron said, after you had finished cheering for gryffindors win “who would’ve thought that would work?”
“eh.. me?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“me too” ginny added, hugging you from behind “our sister is a genius, ron”
“that was actually really smart” hermione complimented and you smiled at her approval.
“thanks guys” you nodded “i better go apologize to theo now though. here’s your jacket”
ron was grimacing once again “you can keep it. better put it on before you go down there”
“yeah” you nodded, before you excused yourself, rushing down the stand in the direction of the slytherin changing room.
theo was leaning against the wall, seemingly already expecting you. he was rubbing his arm and you were guessing that he probably had a few marks from crashing into mattheo that many times.
“hey, baby” you smiled.
he was not looking happy, but you knew that he wasn’t actually angry.
“you played really well” you softly held him by the neck.
“we lost” theo muttered, like you were offending him.
“i know” you lay your head to the side “but you still did your best”
“i played like a goddamn beginner” theo furrowed his eyebrow “don’t act so innocent now, i know what you had in mind”
“do you?” you smirked up at him and he was going feral by the way you quickly closed and opened your eyes, suggesting you did not know what he was talking about.
“yeah” he muttered “and it’s super unfair” his fingers down went to the zipper of ron’s jacket “and what’s even more unfair is that you’re all covered now”
“i don’t have to make sure you lose a game now” you added
“oh, totally” theo nodded “my bad”
“you know i love you baby” you whispered into his ear “so i did what you asked me to do”
theo shook his head, impressed how you could still spin this to be his own fault. “i guess you’re right” he finally gave in. “how about we go back to the castle? i still have to shower”
“i knew you wouldn’t be able to be mad at me” you smiled. “but is enzo alright?”
“he will be fine” theo said a bit too quickly. as if to prove his words to be utter bullshit, enzo walked out of the door behind the both of you, holding a cold pack to his bruising eye.
“hey y/n” he greeted once he had been able to recognize you with his other eye.
“hi enzo” you smiled sympathetically “i’m sorry about your eye and everything”
“it’s alright” enzo smiled and you were impressed that he was still this calm after literally being beat up by his best friends.
“sorry” you cringed again as you watched him walk away. he waved at you from afar. “you really did a number on him”
“totally matt’s fault” theo excused.
“totally” you nodded “so will matt be joining us for the shower?” you joked, hinting at the way the boy had been staring at you the entire time, even going as far as catching the kiss that you had clearly send in theo’s direction.
“don’t even start” theo muttered, taking your hand in his and starting to walk up back to the castle.
“maybe i should wear your jersey more often”
“we’ll burn it after this”
you giggled, before you quickened your pace to keep up with him. “maybe just in private” you assured, kissing his cheek.
theo smiled and you mirrored his expression. “i guess that would be alright”
986 notes · View notes
v3lvieraven · 2 months
Text
Twisted wonderland boys x sleepy!reader
Note- in this context it’s just that your constantly sleepy. But I didn’t add ortho.
Riddle-
Honestly he’s very worried, but also finds it endearing how you cling to him all the time. He likes the fact he’s the one you go to when you get sleepy. Makes it a very big deal to everyone around him when your asleep, telling them to be quiet or else they might lose their head. Generally if it’s during class though, he will try to wake you up or help you focus. But he knows you can’t help it at all, so on those rare occasions he gives in, he will take notes for you and scold you after. Your punishment is getting a full nights sleep with him.
Trey-
He loves it, often times he finds you asleep while he’s baking something for the queen. It’s always a lovely surprise for him to find you in a place he loves being. Many times he had to redirect riddle so that you were not in his line of sight, considering you would get a scolding session. There’s many times that he’s saved you from riddle in that regard, your very lucky trey is riddles best friend.
Cater-
He absolutely loves taking pictures of you when you’d asleep (if your okay with it of course). If your okay with him taking pictures, then he might post a few. But majority are saved in a private folder. He brags about it a lot too, and will actively make sure you hear him bragging about how cute you are. Even before you have an established relationship he would seek you out so he could fawn over you. He’s definitely like Leona/Floyd in the sense that he will use you as a teddy bear
Ace-
He’s going to complain a lot, and make fun of you. No doubt. He finds it annoying at first, but once you get to know each other, he begins to love it. He definitely tells you that he hates your sleepy face, but he has so many pictures. Also he’ll tell you that he doesn’t want to carry you around, but he insists even when you tell him he doesn’t have to.
Deuce-
He finds you so adorable. Beats up everyone who makes fun of you. Despite him thinking it’s adorable, he will make sure that it’s not a mental health problem or a health problem.. just wants you to be healthy in every way possible. Still, he defends you and makes sure to keep an eye on you so you don’t fall over or pass out. He may not be as affectionate as ace, but he will still pull you onto his lap often.
Leona-
Lazy ass lion. He has the audacity to call you lazy! I think you probably stepped on his tail, then when he was yelling at you, you thought of him as a stuffed animal because of the ears and cuddled him. You were too tired to realize what you were doing, and the best part is he let you. Now he drags you to the garden to be his stuffed animal. He gets very possessive and won’t let you sleep near anyone else.
Ruggie-
He also finds it endearing, although he doesn’t have much time to spare, he will coddle you and fawn over you like cater. But he expects something in return for looking after you while your asleep, often makes you take him on lunch dates. Teases you about your sleepy face but immediately starts pouting when you stop.
Jack-
He’s flustered, big strong wolf boy is turned into a needy puppy in your hands. Every time you cuddle up to him during class, whether it’s because the class is boring or because your tired and the room is cold, he always gets startled. You thought you were bothering him and stopped which caused him to be even more needy.
Azul-
His sleep schedule was absolutely fucked up. So your sleepy personality actually really helped when you whined for him to take a break and take a nap. Almost made you sign a contract to only take naps with him, and is still considering it. Probably asks you about it though, if you say yes he will be ecstatic. Due to his workload he’s often pent up, in need of relaxation! Meaning you are his perfect match
Jade-
Jade teases you all the time without relent. He loves it so much how could he not! But only he’s allowed to make fun of you for it, no one else. If your sensitive then he will try to tone it down though. I can imagine that he took you in a wagon while he was looking for mushrooms. That’s been stuck in my head all day, him just pulling your sleeping form around in a wagon.
Floyd-
He’s too energetic for his own good! Like I said earlier, he will use you as a stuffed animal. Hauling you around campus and really anywhere he goes while hugging you. Bites you to wake you up or make you focus and pay attention to him. He hates that he has to chase after your focus but it’s all worth it when your half-glaring at him but are too tired to do anything. It’s very cute!
Kalim-
Also is too energetic for his own good! Will scream in delight when you lay your head on his shoulder. But he’s a sweetheart about it, may or may not carry a pillow around for you so that your neck won’t hurt when taking a nap. Unfortunately that’s not very good when the teacher can clearly see the pillow and it definitely makes you stand out.
Jamil-
He’s more calm about it, he wants you to do well in school, so he might scold you or “monitor” you while you sleep. It’s kinda creepy, most of the time he does that thing where he stays there and cuddles with you until you fall asleep. That’s until he figures out that it backfires because now you wake up whenever he leaves…
Vil-
Oh dear, this will not do! Your hair is a mess, and while it may look cute like that you need to brush it out. He will scold you lightly but only because he’s worried about you. Rook managed to convince him to do your makeup while your asleep, he kept those photos as his wallpaper. But overall he loves you deeply, even if you constantly sleep on top of him when he’s supposed to be doing something…
Rook-
He will find out what is causing this. No matter what. It doesn’t matter if it’s a health problem that he can’t entirely fix, or if it’s just something like lack of sleep or insomnia, maybe narcolepsy. He wants to know if he can help. He still teases you, but that’s mostly to mask his worry. Will slip in little reminders to take care of yourself.
Epel-
He isn’t one to like cute things, but your the exception! He likes how calm you are! (I figure him as a person who likes either a very calm/tired person or an energetic partner. No in between) Honestly he likes how easy going you are, sometimes he feels like his life is too intense and you help level that. Draws on you in your sleep, but also makes sure you take care of yourself.
Idia-
Aw your so cute! You look like those anime girls that sleep all the time. Honestly he loves it, the only part he dislikes is when you don’t eat or drink because of exhaustion. He cares a lot for you though, enough that he will pause his game or let himself lose because you need something.
Malleus-
Lovely dragon boy, adorable dragon boy. He’s so in love, feels honored that you trust him enough to be in such a vulnerable state around him. That being said, he will make sure under no circumstances you don’t get woken up. Unless you need to eat or drink or shower and stuff like that. Sebek is prohibited from being around you when your in this state, specifically because he started yelling at you when you were sleeping on malleus’s lap. It stormed that night.
Lilia-
Aw you are so adorable! He could just hang upside-down with you! He’s done that as well, sometimes you don’t wake up and he gets all giddy. Almost dropped you… he scares you awake though, mainly because he finds it so cute with the face you make when you get startled.
Sebek-
I’m not even gonna lie, you arnt getting any naps in around him. It happens once in a while, those times are very special. It only happens when he’s sleepy or when your sick. That’s when he allows himself to be affectionate and cut loose. Mainly he will hold your hand while you sleep or he might play with your hair, but that’s about it. It’s not that he hates physical affection he’s just not used to it.
Sliver-
Immediately falls in love. If he’s the one that’s more tired, your stuck with waking him up and hauling him around with you when needed. He won’t object though, just make sure you cuddle him later to make up for it. Really hates when his sleep is disrupted but when it comes to you, it’s a lot better. If your the one that’s more sleepy, then it kinda depends. You’re either screwed or you’re being dragged with him wherever he goes. Says he sleeps better with you
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writingsbychlo · 1 year
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when you hold me | azriel
summary; azriel doesn't realise quite how touch-starved he is until he finally gets a little bit of affection, and he loves it. word count; 17,202 notes; this is in bullet form. it is insanely long. I have no excuses.
so here’s the thing, azriel's love language is touch, okay?
he’s touch-starved and a physically affectionate person, but he got so used to being cast out that he really repressed that side of himself.
even when he didn’t have to anymore, he had a reputation to uphold, by then.
he's the shadowsinger. the spy. the illyrian brute. the night court terror. silent but deadly. moody and quiet. darkness personified.
not really someone who cuddles, y’know?
now, luckily for him, cassian and rhys have different reputations, and they’re both quite physically loving too, so he doesn’t have to let his need for physical attention show.
cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.
so he really doesn't struggle to get affection there, he can pout and roll his eyes and frown as much as he wants, but he secretly loves it, and cassian secretly knows it.
all the hair ruffling, arms around shoulders that turn into a headlock, and dramatic leaning/falling into az that cassian does? az eats that shit up. loves it.
rhysand also does a lot of touching. he isn't so much an affectionate toucher; he just does it without realising.
a lot of pats on the shoulders, hugs, gently bumping him with a hand, elbow, or hip to get past, rhysand does a lot of general touches, but az loves that too.
mor has absolutely no sense of personal space, like none whatsoever. she plays with his hair when she thinks it needs styling better, and often lays down with her head in his lap when they have deeper chats, and she dances with him on nights out. if he's ever in urgent need of a little physical affection, he finds mor, because she'll just start touching him as soon as she sees him.
with nesta and elain, he often offers to fly them around, or 'winnow' them where they need to go, because they'll always hold onto him, even just for a few seconds.
going out with feyre means she always stays close to his side. if they go shopping, she links arms with him, grabs his wrist to drag him along when she sees something she likes, and often gets herself so tired out that by the end of the day, she is practically falling asleep on him as they walk home.
he realised that if he offers to sit and pose for her paintings, she'll mess with him and rearrange him until he's sat how she wants.
he purposefully never learned how to do his own tie so someone else would do it ("my hands are too big for fiddly little knots, alright?")
he often asks cass to help him do up the seals on the back of his leathers ("hurts my shoulder trying to reach round and do up the clasps on these damn things.")
he likes teaching people to train because they rely on him for form corrections, and he likes sparring with rhys and cass because that means a lot of wrestling and pushing and he can have fun with it.
basically, azriel takes any fucking scrap of physical affection he can get, in any way.
and then you step into his life.
it's a cold evening in the middle of the winter, and azriel is pouting a little on the couch, because nobody has touched him all day.
in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.
nesta no longer needs him to fly her around, she has cassian wrapped around her finger.
mor spends most of her time with emerie, whom azriel actually rather likes, which is worse, because he can't even hate her.
elain has been spending most of her time travelling with lucien, and never needs him anymore.
feyre and rhys spend most of their time with nyx now, which he cannot begrudge them for.
and amren was never particularly touchy, he found solace in not feeling like the only lonely one, but now she has varian, and he hates how bitter his jealousy tastes when he sees how affectionate she truly is.
and he doesn't have anyone.
everyone is chatting, and drinking, and the door opens, and in come lucien and elain.
hand in hand, noses and cheeks red from the cold, and hair a little messy from the wind outside.
behind them is you.
azriel almost feels stupid for the way his heart jumps a little when he sees you, he meets new people every day, he's not supposed to be shy he's supposed to be scary, but he can't help it.
you have the same cold-bitten and wind-ruffled look, and yet, unlike the joy on the other two's faces, you're nervous. terribly so.
his ears feel like they're ringing as he watches elain and lucien get comfortable, your hands still stuck into your pockets and your gaze flickering over the room.
your eyes meet his for a second, just a single second, and you smile, but it's so stunning it stops him from being able to reciprocate it until you've moved on, scanning everyone else before fixing your gaze back on the redhead you arrived with.
he's introducing you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into his side, and you chuckle a little as he does.
azriel's skin prickles a little with jealousy. why is it so easy for everyone else to get affection but him? he feels pathetic for even thinking this way.
(Y/N). friend from the autumn court. best friend. the girl who taught him how to heal. sticking around for a while.
he was still processing these words when lucien pushed you forward a little with a hand on your back, your scowl as you stumble, earning a chuckle from everyone else, and a friendly knuckle to the cheek from lucien. 
azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.
you go around, you're shaking hands and saying hello, and chatting to everyone, and just before you get to him, elain draws you into a conversation with her sisters. his hand curls into a fist, and he feels like a fucking child all over again.
is he really this worked up over a handshake? a handshake he didn't even get?
phantom feelings of sharp stone under his knees and the whistle of wind between cracks in the cell walls revisit him, when he'd long for the days the healer would come when he was a child to patch up his injuries, because at least the kind old woman who'd tended to him would pat his hair and wipe his cheeks when he cried.
his shadows swirl violently once, twice, as he thinks about it, and he stands before anyone can notice, chugging what's left of his drink and moving to the kitchen to make another.
he's leaning against the counter, staring into his own reflection in the whiskey when you knock at the doorway, forcing him to look up. he settles his usual stone mask over his face, instinct by now, and he raises a brow to prompt you.
"hello. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I was worried you'd leave before I could. I'm (Y/N)."
"indeed, I heard." really? that's the best he could come up with? but the kitchen has started to smell faintly like cinnamon and burnt sugar, and his nose scrunches a little at the overly sweet smell, he's not used to anything like it. it makes it hard to think, it's almost dizzying.
you pause on the other side of the island, a small smile coming to your lips, before daring to take another two steps closer, hand stretching out to him. "I'll be sticking around for a while, the high lord thinks you could all use a permanent healer, something about rough play while you're training," the words bring a touch of a smirk to his lips, and your own smile widens when it does. "and I meet the criteria, apparently."
he huffs a bit of a laugh, slipping his own hand into yours, and every buzzing in his ears goes blissfully quiet, every firing nerve settles, and the smile he'd forced becomes genuine when your hand squeezes around his. you shake once, pulling back all too quickly, and he misses the feeling of touch instantly.
"now, elain says you don't like to be touched," wait, no- “so, if you ever want to get together sometime, we can talk about what you’re comfortable with, where your boundaries lie, that sort of thing…”
your words were tapering off, and he realised perhaps he should say something, or do something, or simply react, in any way at all, but he couldn't. because it was just so gut-wrenchingly sweet of you, and he hated it. he didn’t want boundaries. fuck them. destroy them. cross them all. he didn’t care.
he didn’t say that. instead, what he said was, “uh, sure. I’m pretty busy, but I’m sure we could work something out.”
you only nodded, lingering a second longer, and the tension between you both felt like it was stretching on for ages. you were so close, so close, and azriel clenched his hands by his sides once again, trying to fight the telling frown on his face, and the urge to reach out. your hair looked so soft, he’d bet it was, bet it smelled even more sugary, a smell he was rapidly getting used to, and-
and you were walking away, a small smile on your lips, and something deep and unusual within his chest flared a little with panic, and- “wait-”
was that him? azriel really wasn’t sure, he didn’t remember even thinking about making a noise, it just happened, and then- then you turned around, smile still there, a little more genuine this time. 
you raised an eyebrow at him this time, prompting him silently the way he had you. he liked it. he smiled back, just a touch.
“I’m sorry.”
“you haven’t done anything to be sorry for, azriel.”
“I’m being rude.” you didn’t respond, and he sighed a little, shoulders relaxing fractionally from the rigid tensing that was beginning to ache a little. “I just have… a lot on my mind. my apologies, for my behaviour. I appreciate your offer.”
“well, physical healer I may be, but mental health is just as important to me. if you ever want to talk, I make a good listener. and, semi-reasonable advice giver.”
he chuckled, a soft sound that he didn’t often make, but merely the way you seemed to perk up a little at his amusement made him want to spend the rest of his life laughing. he didn’t know why.
“I’m not sure how much I can trust that advice, given you are optionally friends with lucien, who truly believes that toast tastes better when it’s a little burned.” 
“I didn’t choose him, he chose me. you share your last cookie with the sad little boy at the playground one time, and you get stuck with the seventh in line to the throne for the rest of your life.” there was a fond smile on your lips, and for just as second, azriel revelled in this moment of quiet amusement with you. 
then he remembered the same look of amusement on lucien’s face, when he’d had an arm wrapped around you, and playfully shoved you, and knocked your cheek. 
and just like that, all the warmth of your conversation was stripped away, a shocking cold like a bucket of water straight from the Sidra on Starfall night tipped over his head. it reminded him just how lonely he was.
“I’d best get going, but, if you come by training with cassian and I, tomorrow morning, I’ll show you around. I assume you’ll be staying at the house of wind?” his heart was beating erratically fast in his chest, one scarred hand smoothing over the spot as it did. he felt breathless, waiting to see whether you’d accept his offer, waiting to see whether you’d reject him. azriel couldn't remember the last time he’d been this nervous.
“I'd like that, very much.”
“until tomorrow, then.”
you murmured something in response, but his heart was beating too fast, his blood rushing too loudly in his ears to be able to make it out. he simply nodded, hoping it would suffice, and left. he must’ve drunk a lot more than he thought.
hours later, when he was laying cold in his bed, his shadows informed him of your arrival. giggling in a somewhat tipsy state, you’d arrived mere seconds before cassian and nesta had landed on the balcony, one hand gripped tightly around lucien’s as he winnowed you in, wobbling slightly in your steps. 
your friend had kissed your cheek goodbye, as had elain, even cassian had kissed your knuckles dramatically as nesta rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile of her own. 
his bed felt like laying on a slab of ice. alone. 
however, exactly one hour and twelve minutes into training, which was exactly thirty-eight minutes after azriel had officially given up on your arrival, you came. 
his shadows swirled excitedly, so much so that cassian stuttered a little in his movements as they began to block his sights unintentionally, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and burnt sugar reached his nose once again, flooding the room a moment before you walk in.
he’s distracted, which is ridiculous, he never gets distracted, and he would have chastised himself for it if the blunt side of cassian’s wooden practice sword didn’t do it for him.
azriel’s vision spotted for a second as the wood collided with the side of his skull, teeth rattling, and he hissed out a curse, glare as cold as winter night’s shot at his partner when he began to chuckle.
“something got you all wound up, brother?”
“bite me.”
“not even one whole day and you boys are already putting me to use, huh?”
there was just something about you this morning. azriel really couldn't place it, but you were wearing a smile that made something in his chest clench a little, and as though you could read his thoughts, your hand lifted, rubbing gently over your own chest, over your heart. 
“this? this is nothing to worry about, we’ve seen much, much worse.” 
you merely rolled your eyes, stepping towards them both and bringing yourself further into the room. you beckoned azriel forward, and he was moving before he even knew what he was doing.
cassian scoffed good-naturedly, turning away to practice his swings against a wooden dummy, and azriel sank down, sitting against the edge of the ring as you came to stand before him. he spread his legs a little, letting you get that little bit closer, and you took it.
he blamed his breathlessness on the intense training he’d just done, not the smell of you overwhelming him like sugary treats and starfall spices.
“really, it’s nothing to worry abou-” 
you raked your fingers softly through his damp hair, fingertips gently soothing along his scalp for bumps.
he choked, words dying in his throat on a pathetically breathy exhale that would have embarrassed him had azriel not been feeling pure ecstasy.
your other hand joined it, raking through his hair, pads of your fingers pressing and soothing along his scalp, and azriel’s world went dark. eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head and shoulders sagging a little as you examined for bumps. he almost wished cassian had hit him harder, just so you’d find something.
“is this okay?” your words were murmured, a soft breath for only him to hear, and azriel couldn't even form words;
“mhmm..”
nobody had ever touched him like this, run their fingers through his hair, and when your nails scratched lightly over his scalp before you pulled back, he barely bit back a whine, body feeling like melted butter.
you patted down his hair, he could only imagine the mess it had become, and it took more effort than most battles did for azriel to compose himself. to close the place where his bottom lip had parted from his top to near-pant, to open his eyes and hold them more than a sleepy half-lid, to straighten his shoulders and find some strength in his spine to sit properly. and most of all, to not reach out and beg you to do it again.
the sound of cassian’s grunt as he trained snapped him back into an awkwardly rigid position, jaw tensing a little. 
“no bumps or breaks, you’re good to go, shadowsinger.” 
“told you so.”
your eyes rolled again, in that gentle and fond way, and he hoped he would see it more. he liked making your eyes roll.
“next time, you need to defend your blind spots better.”
“are you giving me fighting advice?” once again, the smile he gave you was real. two within one day, you were making him break his mask at record speeds. it was concerning, if anything. that was what he chose to call it, anyway. 
“you think I don’t know how to fight?”
“I know you don’t know how to fight. I can tell.”
“you can tell? how?”
“you have no grip strength, when you shook my hand last night, no way you could pick up a sword, it would drop right out of your hands. you tripped over your feet on the way over here, and you have zero awareness of your own blindspots.”
you gaped at him, and he couldn't help himself. he lifted a hand, pointer knuckle tucking under your chin to close your dropped jaw, and you huffed at him. his knuckle dragged along your skin for a split second, before dropping away, and he made a fist on his thigh, restricting any more movement. he was being far too needy and indulgent of his desire to touch, lately.
“maybe I didn’t want to hurt you by gripping your hand with my superior grip strength.”
“uh-huh.” 
“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”
“I’m not disputing that.”
“and how would you know anything about my blindspots?”
he shrugged, smirking a little at the tendrils of black curling over your shoulders, one of them wrapping neatly around the ends of your hair, pulling them silently off of your shoulders, into a ponytail you had no idea was being formed until the darkness tugged lightly. 
you gasped, the shadows skittering away like they were snickering at your shock, and azriel actually bit at the inside of his own cheek to contain his grin.
what was wrong with him lately? maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing there would be a healer around so much, perhaps he needed a check-up.
“alright, fine,” you had a look in your eye, one that he had absolutely no idea what it meant, and for the first time in his life, that confusion seemed to thrill him instead of terrifying him. “then teach me how to fight.”
“why on earth would you want to learn how to fight?”
“well, if I’m going to be out and about playing in the thick of it with you boys when you get yourselves all scratched up, it would probably be useful to know at least a little about defending myself.”
azriel hadn't thought about that. about all the danger he got himself into, about all the danger you’d be getting into. something cold settled in his chest, tight and gripping, making every breath feel a little rough. 
he choked that down, too.
“what would I get out of that deal?”
“I’ll heal up all these little injuries, the bothersome ones you always brush off.” he raised a brow, breath pausing in his throat as you reached for him, soft fingers wrapping around his wrist, bringing his clenched hand up. he’d been trying so hard not to touch you, but here you were, touching him.
unwrapping each finger carefully, you smoothed them out, his palm flexing and twitching a little at the featherlight touch you brushed over the scarred flesh.
“like this one, a little paper cut, on the tip of your finger.”
brushing your thumb over the pad lightly, he watched in awe as the tiniest fleck of glowing golden light shone from it for only a second, before the injury he’d made only this morning was gone.
it didn’t bother him, those kinds of wounds may as well not exist at all, that kind of pain was one he was so used to it was a sensation like breathing or walking at this point, but it didn’t matter. he’d take a thousand paper cuts of you’d hold him that softly and fix them that tenderly again and again.
you were offering him a deal, a lot of touches and attention, and he tried not to scream his agreement, and show his enthusiasm too much.
“how’d you know that was there?” he pulled his hand back, your own hovering for a second where you’d held his much larger one, before dropping to your side.
“I sensed it, when I touched you, looking for your head bump, I picked that up instead, it’s the only injury you’ve got. physical, anyway.”
a tense moment of silence followed your words at the implications of your final sentence. 
“you’ve got a deal. tomorrow morning we begin. but first, I believe I promised you a tour.”
he stood, putting a reasonable amount of distance between you both. he needed to remember who he was, he needed to remember who he was supposed to be. he couldn't afford to let his own weakness and desire pull at him anymore.
you took the hint, not getting nearly as close to him as you followed him around. 
azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.
for months, the need got worse and worse, the tugging in his chest, the empty loneliness, the phantom feelings of touches he didn’t have.
he expected his urges to touch to go down, blamed it on the cold and the winter, blamed it on all the changes taking place, blamed it on recovering from the war. azriel blamed it on everything he possibly could, hoping it would go away.
every time you trained with him and cassian in the mornings, every book exchange in the library, every weekly checkup that you’d forced them to start doing, it all tortured him, because he was now fixating on every little thing.
except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.
azriel found himself longing more and more for the touches that seemed to be getting less and less frequent. or, perhaps they weren’t, and he was simply needing them more, and he was noticing the lack of them. 
he had no idea why your arrival had sent him spiralling downhill, but he was struggling to patch up every crack that was beginning to break in his façade.
even his shadows were struggling, reaching out toward you in every room, searching all corners of it when you weren’t there.
everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.
he skipped a couple of training sessions, an excuse about needing to catch up on work, and you didn’t question it.
he took meals in his bedroom, or after he was sure you’d already eaten, just to avoid you at the table.
he hid every cut and wound, and for the first couple of weeks, you berated him playfully, joking that he should have come and found you to fix them. it took everything he had not to smile, to respond, to prolong these sessions where your fingers were skim gently over his skin, shimmering gold sealing up small cuts and all the bruises, fixing every ache.
after a while, you just stopped. every near-silent check-up or barely-friendly greeting when you saw one another making something cold fill his chest.
but at least that sharp coldness within him was better than feeling completely empty.
it had been almost a full year when your first chance to truly go away with them arose. the air was cold enough that your breath clouded in the sky, snow was sticking to the ground, and there was a permanent layer of ice settled over the top of the Sidra.
it should have been easy, and yet everything that could have gone wrong, did.
the meagre forces of you, himself, cassian and nesta hadn't been nearly enough. 
you were terrified, azriel was in and out of consciousness, being half-dragged along through the snowstorm by cassian, who winced every time he put their joint weight on his right foot, and nesta was clutching at her side. 
there was blood clotted into your hair from a cut along your forehead, a bruise blossoming on your ribs and you were sure an arrow had caught you across your thigh, but it was so cold, you could barely feel any part of your body anymore.
flying out wasn’t an option, your only teammate who could winnow had been out-cold for nearly an hour, and the inn had been a blessed relief when it had finally come into view.
the patron hadn't even flinched when the four of you had stumbled up to the counter and demanded three rooms, blood dripping onto the floor between you all, snow and mud trekked up the stairs with keys clutched in hand.
“cass, start a fire, nesta, go get as many bowls of snow as you can.”
they did as told, and you began to peel back the layers of protective leather and armour azriel wore, laying haphazardly on the bed where cassian had left him as they scurried. 
blood was smeared across skin that had gone pale, and bile rose in the back of your throat as you took in the wounds before you. they were like nothing you’d ever seen. 
stripping off the top layer of his leathers, they made a sickeningly wet sound as they hit the wooden floorboards, blood spilling out around your feet in a puddle, soaking into the bedsheets that would never be truly clean again.
cassian hissed as he returned.
nesta’s hands shook as she began placing bowls of snow into the fire to heat.
neither could stomach staying as you began to stitch up the wounds.
over six hours later, azriel was healed and you’d seen to nesta’s cracked ribs, your attention moving to the final warrior who needed help, and ignoring the painful drag of every footstep you took to follow him.
cassian was laying a patched-up azriel onto the bed in the spare room, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth would crack.
“let me look at your ankle, cass.”
you sunk down onto the edge of the bed patting the space next to you once his arms were free of his friend, and he shook his head.
“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”
“let me look.”
“no.”
“cassian, let me look at your ankle, gods dammit!”
silence filled the room around you both, and for a second you worried your yell would wake nesta, sleeping only on the other side of the wall.
he set himself down, lifting his leg up, and placing his ankle into your lap.
swollen shades of yellow and purple and blue, his ankle had swollen up so wide it was almost the thickness of the rest of his leg, and when you pressed it, his entire body trembled.
“s’gonna hurt a little bit, but only for a second.”
“what about you?”
“what about me?” you mumbled, fingers smoothing over his skin, a soft glow emitting from your hands as you worked.
cassian groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you began to repair the damage.
“I can tell you’re spent. I came to check on you, when you were healing az. you didn’t look so good. does rhysand know what healing does to you? does lucien? does anyone?”
your motions paused, only for a split second, before you were soothing over his skin, hands tightening around him as the swelling began to go down.
“they know. it’s just, I’ve never had to heal something this big before, he was practically dead. but, I’m fine. really. keeping him alive long enough to get here took a lot out of me, but it’s over now.”
‘fine’ was the best you could do. ‘fine’ was a grievous exaggeration, but cassian didn’t need to know that. 
your head was pounding so hard you saw spots, your hands were shaking so violently that when they were no longer on cassian’s leg, you sat on them to hide the tremor. you’d sat down to heal cassian’s ankle because you’d nearly collapsed trying to follow him in here, legs giving way underneath you.
“you’re all done.”
he stood, testing his weight on his foot, letting out the same huff of amusement he always did when you healed him up so fast, no matter how many times you’d done it.
“where are you going to sleep? not in the other room, I suspect.”
your nose wrinkled up, the metallic smell of azriel’s blood was still so heavy you were surprised it wasn’t leaking through the walls, the fire in that room still burning from the ruined sheets you’d tossed in to dispose of.
something, something had lurched while you’d been tending to him as cassian and nesta fussed, and the idea of going back into a room where you’d fought just to keep him alive made your head spin.
“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on azriel. if he makes it through the night, he’ll be fine.”
the truth was, you were nowhere near done. just because you’d stabilised azriel didn’t mean your job was over. it just took a little pressure off the clock. his skin was still too clammy, a fever fighting high, his heart rate was too weak and his skin still too pale. he was a long, long way from mended.
cassian looked dubious, sleep was crawling at the edge of his consciousness, you could tell from the way he swayed on where he stood, shoulders hunched and eyes drooping. 
“besides, we’re safer in pairs. go and be with nesta, I’ll be here, we’ll meet up in the morning.”
he finally gave in, the mention of his mate making his head snap to look at the wall she lay on the other side of, like she’d tugged subconsciously to convince him to do as told. you wouldn't be surprised if she had.
the door closed behind him, and you were left in a cold, dark room, with only azriel’s rattling, wet breaths to let you know you weren’t alone.
you used what little strength you had left to make a fire, tugging the sheets out from underneath azriel and hanging them before the hearth to warm, before sealing them around his body. 
you stripped off what you could of your own bloody leathers, washing both sets with cold water in the empty dishes of snow you had left, before hanging those, too, up to warm and dry. 
settling in beside him, pain like you’d never known flared throughout your entire body as you called on your gift once again.
settling a hand on an unconscious azriel’s shoulder, your eyes closed, beginning to search through for every internal wound, stitching nerves and muscles back together one by one. 
you were sweating, but freezing cold, throat raw and eyes stinging but no tears left to give as you gasped for breath. 
you kept the fire going, his fever broke, and at some point during the night, azriel began to regain his strength.
he never woke, but you weren't aware you had dozed off yourself beside him until you were startled back awake.
he had rolled over, shuffled weakly across the bed until one arm had slung its way over your waist, cheek pressing into your shoulder, the cool tip of his nose was pressed into your neck. 
he was still cold, no matter how many times you restocked the fire to keep it going, searching out for your body heat without realising it. 
you lay still for a while, to see if he would wake, but he didn’t.
instead, you fastened an arm around his shoulders, the other threading lightly into sweat-soaked hair, still damp from where you’d tried to clean him up, soothing him lightly. 
you used what strength you had left to make sure he stayed in a deep sleep, pain-free and unaware.
nesta was the one who woke you in the morning, looking a lot better than she had when going to sleep the night before, and you panicked a little as you stretched out to find yourself alone.
“good sleep, huh? I’ve been trying to wake you for five whole minutes.”
“where’s azriel? cassian?”
her eyes rolled, but you’d learned her tells, knowing all of it was in love, not hate. “they’re downstairs, paying extra for the ruined sheets and the rooms. storm cleared, we’re ready to go home, so get up and get dressed.”
you shifted, arms barely able to pull yourself up, and nesta’s eyes narrowed a little as you lay back down.
“can’t I have five more minutes? I was having a  good dream.”
“you can sleep in your own bed when we get out of this godawful inn and back to velaris.”
“fine, I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”
she left, and five minutes was more like fifteen as you struggled to even stand up, never mind get dressed, and finally, make your way downstairs to meet them at the entry of the inn.
“‘bout time, I’m waiting on you to get home for a good meal.” 
“my apologies, queen nesta.” she grinned, and your gaze moved to the other two. cassian was studying you, gaze flicking to your hairline, and you lifted your fingers to touch the sensitive skin there, still raw, the cut you had forgone to patch up even last night. your sharp glare kept him silent about it.
“the flight shouldn’t take long, and the skies are nice and clear now. we’ll be back in time for lunch.” to emphasise his point, cassian’s stomach rumbled, loudly.
he took off first, shooting up into the sky with nesta and leaving you standing in tense silence with azriel.
“az, how are you feeling?”
“fine.” he almost growled the word out, and your brows furrowed.
he hated doing this to you, the look of hurt that had flickered across your face, but he had to. pushing people away, keeping them out, he was good at that, he was used to it, and it made everything easier. 
letting you in, it was far too painful, you would see every raw and damaged and broken part of him, and he wasn’t ready to face that.
when he’d woken up wrapped in your arms that morning, for a shocking second, azriel had felt at peace. for the very first time in his life, he had felt utterly content. like he didn’t regret anything, like he didn’t want anything to change, like he didn’t want a distraction. 
and it had terrified him so much that he thought he might be sick.
“you’re a sleep cuddler.” apparently so. you were trying so hard to lighten the mood, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into that, but he couldn't. he choked back the lump in his throat, gaze flickering to the sky for a second, avoiding your gaze.
“I trust that won’t happen again.”
you went unnaturally still, gaze turning sharp on him as you stared, and he still couldn't bring himself to meet your eye.
“that’s all you have to say? that’s it? I heal you up, I take care of you, an-”
“that is your job, is it not?”
the laugh you gave him was cold and harsh. it made him feel like his chest was closing up, freezing over from the inside out.
“right. yes. my job. well, we should get going, I’m rather tired.”
he’d pushed it too far, too far too far too far, his shadows were almost biting at him as they whipped around his body, chastising him for his behaviour, his tone, his every decision.
“(Y/N)-”
“message received, azriel, loud and clear. I want to go home now, please.”
look up look up look up, meet his eye now, he was ready, he wanted you to. you wouldn't. you stepped closer, allowing him to pick you up, before soaring into the sky.
it was one of the worst flights of his life, and tense few hours, the silence azriel normally revelled in felt like it was suffocating him. he could feel the warmth of your magic, even now, swirling around you both to block out the chill until you were landing on the balcony, only moments behind cassian and nesta.
the rest were lined up, waiting for your return, welcoming you back with hugs and shoulder pats, and a table full of food waiting.
hurt.
azriel felt it as his shadows reappeared, catching up to him as he tucked his wings into his back, letting you down slowly.
hurt.
who? his gaze flickered over everyone that was lined up, scanning his friends for injuries.
hurt. hurt. hurt.
you stumbled, knees buckling, and had you not been standing so close to him when you did, you’d have hit the floor before azriel had caught you.
his shadows swarmed around you, until you were barely visible to the rest, and you sank slowly to the ground, letting azriel help you.
hurthurthurthurth-
his shadows recoiled as the heir of day stepped forward, dropping harshly to his knees to cup your face. your skin had paled, your eyes fluttering more closed than open, and your lips were parted with shallow breaths.
“what happened?”
“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”
lucien smoothed a hand over your hair, letting you slump forward until your face was pressed against his shoulder, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt.
“you’re freezing, and you’re so shaky, why can’t you-” he paused, the hand petting your hair moving to rest over your forehead as he searched for something. “you burned out.”
“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”
“you’re not just-”
“lucien, please.”
he stared, waiting a second, before the air around you both folded, and the space at azriel’s feet was empty. his shadows exploded, a representation of his own panic, before feeding back to him a second later that lucien had laid you in your bed.
“what was that?”
“she did too much,” cassian mumbled, hands wringing in front of himself, and rhysand rubbed his brow.
“how bad was it?”
“bad.”
“what. happened?”
he was ignored as cassian shrugged at their high lord, unsure where to start.
“we got caught off-guard, more of them than we could possibly handle. ness got hit first, az covered her, but it was too much. he- it was bad. I’ve seen soldiers die from a lot less. he would have died. but she held him together. I don’t know how, she just did. enough to make it to an inn, she fixed us up. stayed up with az the whole time, I could hear her moving around all night. I knew she was drained but I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did, I would have.. I would have.. done something. I wouldn't have let her help me too, I would have-”
cassian cleared his throat, walking away with a nod and a promise to debrief rhysand later. nesta followed.
“you knew this would happen? you knew she could burn out, that it would be this bad? you knew, and-”
“I knew, because she told me. she acknowledged the risks, she made the decision. she chose to look after you, she chose her own actions. she looks after us, and now we will look after her.”
his tone was final, and azriel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
they left, one by one, they all left him on the balcony alone, to tend to the rest of their duties.
you’d pushed yourself to the brink for him, through agony and worse, and he couldn't even bring himself to crack open a little of the box inside his mind he worked so hard to keep sealed shut.
that was the moment azriel decided it was going to have or change.
you didn’t wake for two days. two full days azriel spent swimming in guilt and sadness, a feeling he couldn't place filling his every thought, making it hard to eat, or sleep, or even think.
he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.
two days, and on the evening of the third day, while everyone was sitting at the dinner table chatting, and azriel was emptily pushing perfectly good chicken and vegetables around his plate, you emerged.
“hello.” 
azriel felt like his heart started back up in his chest.
“can you spare a plate? I’m fucking starving.”
lucien laughed, his head dropping for a second as elain grinned, patting the seat next to her that had been empty for days, the one opposite him, that had been taunting him. 
slipping into it, cassian was quick to pile you up a plate, with more food than you could possibly eat, passing it along down the lines as you sunk into the chair next to him. 
accepting the food, you settled back into everything like nothing had been wrong, like you hadn't scared azriel half to death, like you hadn't left him feeling adrift, untethered, lost, and he needed to talk to you, needed to make it right-
his stomach rumbled, clenching almost painfully. finally, he thought. he was fucking starving.
he would talk to you after he’d eaten.
the first chance to approach you came when you were sitting out on the balcony, still a little pale, still a little shaky, with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared up at the sky.
he sat down next to you, silently, trying to find as much comfort in the stars as you had, but his thoughts were spinning too fast. in the darkness, he let his shadows free a little, let them crawl underneath your chair, over the back, around your feet where you couldn't see. 
“the skies never look quite like this in autumn. I like it here.” your words were steady and calm, nothing like his heart, and azriel twisted his head to look at you. you were not looking at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“you have nothing to be sorry for, azriel."
he felt like he was living everything over again, you were strangers once again, and that thought made every other one freeze inside of his head, a spotlight focus on that.
“please, don’t shut me out.”
you looked at him now, studying him like a journal, brows furrowing a little. 
“I never shut you out, azriel. you are the one who shut me out. you made it very clear that you didn’t want my touch, nor my friendship, nor even my company. it’s okay, I don’t expect everyone to always want my companionship, but next time, at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your life would be nice.”
“thank you.” the words tumbled from him like water spilling from the sky when a storm broke. “thank you, for all of it. for staying up to make sure I made it through the night, and for.. for caring.”
you help his gaze, nodding once. “you’re welcome.”
you looked back to the sky, ignorant to the shadows crawling higher and higher up, languidly, begging him to let them curl around you, still fearing for your wellbeing.
“I like to be touched,”
he spoke the words without breathing, without looking at you, still staring at the stars, even as he felt your attention move to him. it felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, but it was terrifying, a confession spoken now that he could never take back.
“I like to be touched. I love being touched, but it’s not who I am. I am not supposed to be.. soft. I’m supposed to be strong, and powerful, and it terrifies me that I can be so- that I need it. I love being touched, but I can’t ask. They can’t know. I can never tell them.”
you didn’t ask who they were, and you didn’t ask why. somehow, he knew that you just understood.
“you scare me. you scare me more than anything, because for all of my life I’ve been just fine, centuries suppressing this need and managing it all, and then one year ago you come along, and everything changed, and I don’t know why.” the more he spoke, the lighter he felt, some deep and suffocating binding was finally loosening within him.
“perhaps 500 years of pretending not to need attention, not to need love, has finally started to take its toll.”
you were right, he knew you were, but it was still a hard truth to swallow.
“you know, we all have our love languages.”
“our what?”
“love languages.” there was a soft smile on your face when he finally braved looking at you, and it made him feel secure, like his confessions were in safe hands, like for once, he didn’t have to carry every burden on his own. “there’s five.”
“five?”
“yes.” you twisted a little more toward him. “rhys and feyre, they’re the same. they just want to provide for the people they love. perhaps it’s why it’s so easy for them to love one another. both of their love languages are similar. rhys’.. his is gift giving. he shows you all his love through what he can give you, buy you. he houses you all, spoils you constantly, makes sure you are always provided for. he does it sneakily, like buying cassian’s favourite cookies or making sure there are always fresh flowers for elain.”
“what about feyre?”
“hers is acts of service. she spent years providing for her family, she went through hell for tamlin, and then through war for rhys. she was willing to give everything for them all, she continues to do so. elain, hers is quality time. when lucien began inviting her to the spring court, they used to do nothing but sit or walk in silence for hours in the gardens. or in the living room, when he’d read while she learned to knit.”
“what about nesta? she doesn’t fit any of those boxes.”
“no, she doesn’t.” whether you’d noticed them or not, you didn’t say, but azriel’s shadows were beginning to crawl up and over you, weaving around you in lazy swirls as you whispered quietly between yourselves, to the background noise of your friends in the house. “nesta’s love language is words of affirmation.”
he didn’t need to question it, that made perfect sense. 
“yours is touch. everyone has a love language, azriel, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. it’s simply who you are.”
somehow, you made him feel alright with something he’d spent 500 years hating about himself.
“what is yours?”
“technically, I don’t actually need to touch anyone, to heal them. I just have to be close enough to feel their energies.” he processed the words, heart skipping a beat a little at the meaning. you were the same as him. “just think about it all.”
you stood, taking the blanket from your shoulders and leaving it folded over the back of the chair you were leaving behind. 
as you walked past, you paused, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shadows rose, wrapping like bracelets around your wrist as you squeezed lightly. “if you can’t tell them yet, that's okay. but if you ever need someone, you can come and find me. you’re hurting, az, and it’s my job to keep you all in one piece. if holding you when you need it is something you want, then you know where to find me.”
he couldn't speak, only nod, because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out around the lump in his throat.
you left, leaving his head somehow both spinning and utterly empty. 
he waited, mulling over your words, whispering them to himself in the dark, until it became too cold to be comfortable, anymore. 
almost everyone had retired, only cassian, mor and amren still awake, drinking quietly in front of the fire, but he didn’t feel like joining them.
no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.
the clock read over two hours since you’d left him, you’d surely be asleep by now, and azriel tried to pretend like it wasn’t disappointment filling him. stop being needy.
he was making his way to his own bedroom, taking the long route, when he passed your door. light was still spilling out from underneath it, golden glow from the crack between it and the floor, and azriel felt like his feet were rooted to the ground. 
he could feel his heartbeat, right down to his fingers, and he clenched them into a fist to stop it. 
he knocked. he knocked, he didn’t know what possessed him to do so, and maybe it wasn’t too late to just leave, but then there you were;
standing before him, pretty nightgown and a cardigan, hair a little ruffed from the loose way you’d fastened it back, and you didn’t look at all surprised to see him.
“az. would you like to come in?”
“more than anything, actually.” he breathed the words weakly, no longer having any embarrassment left to give, and he stepped over the threshold, letting you close the door.
your fire was lit, logs crackling quietly, but he couldn't smell them, instead, he could smell the candle you had, winter spices and berries, a sweet combination, but not as sweet as your smell. your sheets were tossed askew, clearly having been used, and a book lay on the bed, page marked.
“can I..?”
you raised a brow, but he didn’t know exactly how to word what he wanted, he wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.
“do you want to lay with me while I read?”
“you mean, like we did that night?”
“if you want.”
he felt young again, no strain and stress on his shoulders, just bashful and a little shy, watching as you walked back to your bed, getting comfy once again. you patted the sheets, prompting him to move, and he did.
slowly, so slowly, azriel removed one boot at a time, placing them neatly in a pair at the end of your bed. then his belt, and his jacket, undoing every clasp and buckle slowly, until he was merely left in the comfortable trousers he’d worn to dinner, and his t-shirt.
one knee on the edge of the bed, and then the other, nervous but pushing on as azriel all but catapulted himself over a line he’d never considered crossing before. you lifted the blanket, welcoming him under, and he lay himself down slowly.
shuffling a little closer, he hesitated, close enough to feel every bit of warmth you gave off, but not touching a single part of you.
“I-.. I’m scared.”
“you don’t ever have to be scared with me, azriel. my job is to heal you, let me do that.” you spread your arms for him, and he gave in, the last shred of resistance obliterated. 
he collapsed down by your side, cheek pressing into your shoulder, nose brushing that spot, that spot on your neck that smelt so damn sweet, every bit of you. his front was pressed up along your side, the arm curled around his shoulder, fingers threading into his hair, and he didn’t realise how much he needed it until the sigh he let out shook.
and then his shoulders did.
his chest.
he didn’t realise he was crying until three or four breaths in.
he felt frozen, body locked up as he sobbed, unable to help himself, your fingers weaving through his hair, giving him privacy even as he lay atop you, reading quietly and flicking each page every so often. 
he cried until it felt like that well of emotion inside of him that he spent so long locking up no longer felt like it was about to overflow. it was manageable, truly kept in place, for once.
he dared to reach out, to hold you back like you held him, one arm over your waist, anchoring you down, making sure you were real, you weren’t going to leave. 
and you let him.
every breath he took tasted sweet on his tongue, like roasted marshmallows, and the last thing azriel truly remembered before everything went black was the feeling of your other arm reaching over, hand placed atop his scarred one on your stomach, squeezing lightly.
when azriel woke, he panicked. this wasn’t his bed, his room, and there was someone here, someone holding him, someone-
it all came back. he shifted, pulling his face from where it still lay on your shoulder, one limp hand woven into his hair, falling away when he looked up to you, still asleep. your breaths were even. as he pulled back some more, you shifted, following his warmth the way he had subconsciously done to you. it sparked something in his chest, heart pinching a little.
there was no way he could move now.
he lay back down, rolling onto his side, and pulling you softly back toward him. you went, sleepily, curling up against him. dawn had broken, he was supposed to be training, cassian would be there already, and yet not a single part of him was willing to move, not even his shadows, which were spilling like lazy waterfalls over the bedsheets surrounding you both, hardly any movement at all.
it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. euphoria.
when you woke, it was with a little jump, like you were caught off-guard as much as he was. 
you stretched somewhat, and azriel slackened the arm he’d been using to hold you close, but you didn’t pull away.
instead, you rolled over a little more onto your back, but shuffled close to him, using his arm like a pillow as you blinked to adjust to the morning sun.
“you stayed.”
“is that okay?”
“it was lovely. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”
“I haven’t slept that well ever.”
azriel had hoped that by the morning, he’d have found some control over his filter again when he was around you. it would seem that hope was ill-founded.
you gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your heart, a teasing look in your eyes as you looked at him. “I am truly honoured. like a dreamcatcher, obviously, I’m just the very best cuddl-”
he rolled his eyes, and didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face. he’d exposed one of his deepest secrets to you, everything else felt so small now in comparison. he cut you off by squeezing you tightly, rolling his arm up behind your head and clamping a hand over your mouth.
eventually, the two of you had gotten up, and he’d parted ways with you at the bedroom door to change his clothes before meeting everyone for breakfast.
but, like a bucket of cold water, the high he’d been floating on came crashing down when he walked into the dining room. 
you were already sitting at the table, buttering a piece of toast as mor piled more onto your plate, insistent on getting three days worth of missed food into you as he sat down. 
“where exactly were you this morning, brother? you missed training entirely. the girls teamed up on me, do you know how unfair that was? three against one, azriel!”
he froze a little, halfway into his seat, eyes flicking to the warlords, before he sat properly.
“I was sleeping.”
“sleeping?”
“yes. you know, that thing where you close your eyes, and go unconscious for extended periods of time in order to-”
“shut up, you know what I meant.” he remained staring, like he was trying to work azriel out, and you chuckled at them both.
“cass, your mother hen is showing.” the man scoffed, turning his scrutiny to you instead, and azriel loosed a breath with appreciation. he wasn’t ready yet, to tell everyone else what he’d managed to tell you. he may never be ready, but he already felt lighter having let just one person in.
something bumped his ankle, and dropping his gaze down to below the table, he caught your foot reaching out, slippered toes kicking lightly at his ankle. he shifted forward in his seat, tucking himself underneath properly, and your fluffy foot wrapped around his ankle lightly.
his head spun. 
right here, in his everyday life, someone was touching azriel just for the sake of touching him. 
he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet, and you were accommodating him.
he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, and one day, he was sure it would all come crashing down, but at least for now, he decided he would just enjoy it.
and so, it continued just like that.
you would touch az any chance you got, subtle, enough to go undetected, but enough that everything inside of azriel was practically singing with joy, all times of the day. 
you’d place a hand on his shoulder when you stood beside him while he sat down, you’d link your foot with his when you sat at the table, you’d move him with your hands, this way or that way. you’d grab onto him, drag him around when he was late for his checkups because he got caught up in work. you’d poke him, and jab him when he teased you, and you’d pinch his cheeks until he swatted you away when you teased him back.
and most of all, you let him keep up his façade, rolling his eyes and huffing and pushing you away lightly, without ever pulling back from him.
more and more nights as it went on, he ended up in your bed at night, reading beside you quietly as his leg lay pressed up to yours, or your head slumped onto his shoulder when you got tired before he did.
it was months before azriel had the nerve to touch you in front of everyone without reason. 
he was frustrated. he was angry and worn out, and he’d been gone for days when he finally saw his family again. five days of poor sleep, lonely days, and exhausting work trying to gather information.
he wanted to be held, he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the lifestyle he’d become so used to already, in such a short amount of time.
you were there, sitting on one of the couches, spread out along it as everyone chatted, wine passed around. the volume hit zero as he hovered in the doorway for just a second. 
“az, you’re back! how was it?”
“shit.”
“did you get it done?”
“of course.”
“good. join us. do you want a drink?”
he swallowed, throat dry, only nodding instead. but, that wasn’t really what he wanted. he was frozen in spot, and everyone was staring at him now. silence. but he was staring at you.
you sat up a little further, blissed-out look passing from your face, your back straightened. your eyes passed over him, once, twice, before meeting his gaze again. 
“az, are you hurt?”
it felt like he had to force the word out, heart pounding in his ears as he considered every consequence of what he was about to do, every truth he was about to lay bare. he could pretend, he could say he was hurt, he knew you’d fake it for him. or, he could finally face the thing that terrified him.
he didn’t care, not anymore.
“no.”
at long last, his feet were moving again, and he strode across the room. kicking his boots off roughly and leaving them abandoned on the floor by the couch, next to wear your heels lay. you must have been out for drinks with mor and the others, everyone seeming a little dressed up.
he stripped off the leather jacket next, dropping it down onto the floor. 
he sank, ass hitting the cushions, twisting, until he could lay down, the back of his head landing softly on your thighs. 
he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see everyone's faces, he just wanted to feel you.
rhys cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had lasted well over ten-seconds already.
“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”
“whiskey, three fingers.”
“you got it.”
you threaded your fingers into his hair, and az let loose the rumble from his chest that he always had when you played with his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.
you shifted underneath him, stretching one leg out along the couch behind him, shifting so his head lay on your stomach instead, resting between your legs comfily. 
“so, it all went according to plan?” feyre was next, an overly high lilt to her voice, as rhys tinkered at the drinks cabinet in the corner.
“no, no, no, hang on. we’re all just going to avoid t- ow, nes!” a resounding thud cut him off, and azriel smirked as he heard cassian rubbing at what he assumed was the back of his head.
“everything went fine, just glad to be back. that’s all.”
“yeah, bet you are.” cassian grumbled, and your stomach shook under azriel’s head as you laughed.
rhys pat his shoulder, and he finally cracked his eyes back open, accepted the drink that was being offered. he took it, nodding a ‘thank you’, and his high lord’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at the pair of you.
sitting up, he tried to fight the warmth coming to his cheeks, the one reaction he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried, and he covered it by taking a long swig of the burnt amber liquid inside.
“we were just talking about cassian’s most embarrassing encounter at rita’s.”
“what?! no, we were not!”
“no, no, I distinctly remember that's the conversation we were having.” rhysand backed you up, winking at the change in topic of conversation, and feyre nodded her support. “wasn’t it around the 300 years mark, just after the summer solstice..” 
cassian’s face blanched, nesta perked up, as did elain and feyre, and both mor and rhys chuckled into their drinks.
his brother was now forced to retell this story for you four, and azriel felt a single claw tap three neat times at the inside of his mind. after a moment of hesitation, he let rhys in. let him see it. let him feel it, the way you made him feel.
his other brother only nodded, pulling back, smiling as he wrapped an arm around his mate, pulling her into his side to focus on the story.
for the first time ever, as azriel watched it and wished he had that too, he could act. he reached for you, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to his chest. you went willingly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled, thoroughly invested in cassian’s story. 
he ran his nose over the crown of your head, smiling into your hair when you relaxed even further into him. 
he’d never felt so settled.
that night, when you lay in bed, and he let himself into your room, the energy felt different.
he collapsed down beside you, flopping onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head and reaching an arm out across your waist as you chuckled. 
“big step you took tonight.”
“I was sick of everyone else getting what they wanted, and never taking what I want.”
“I’m proud of you.”
his eyes snapped open, finding you instantly, and he stared at you for a second, eyes narrowing, and you never flinched away.
“what?”
“I'm proud of you. you faced a fear you’ve held for, what, almost five centuries? you should be proud of yourself, too.”
he only nodded, discarding the pillow and moving over to you, no longer feeling even an inkling of nerves as he collapsed down onto your pillow with you, noses mere centimetres apart, legs tangling together as he searched for your touch, as he always did nowadays.
you lifted a hand, placing it on his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone delicately. “you deserve good things, az. let yourself ask for them, let yourself take them.”
he was rendered completely breathless, heart racing so fast it felt like it stopped, and all he could do was smile. 
in that moment, when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling as you pulled back to blow out the final candle lighting the room, he felt his heart actually stop. 
in that moment, azriel knew he was completely, totally and undeniably fucked. 
after that night, a line had been crossed.
he crossed it, he made the first move, edging forward into something entirely unknown. azriel was used to suppressing his feelings, he never confronted them. and yet, not, he was not only acknowledging them, he was acting on them, using them.
he woke up before you the following morning, as he always did, content to lie in once again, ignoring his training with cassian once again. cass was surely going to get sick of this, but he didn’t care.
you, however, had different plans. you woke moments after him, jerking awake with a sudden jump, one hand coming up to your head. 
you merely groaned, leaving his arms to sit up straight in bed, covers pooling around your lap and his.
“what’s wrong, angel?”
“I realised I’m late for- what?” a pink tinge touched your cheeks, and you turned, glancing at him over your shoulder. lips parted in a pretty way, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he lifted one arm, propping it behind his head and grinning like it hadn't been intentional. 
“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”
the colour on your cheeks deepened, and you swallowed, several times, before licking over your lower lip and dropping your gaze.
“cassian. uh, well, training. uhm, training, with cassian. I’m late. for it. for training with cassian.”
his smile stretched as you stumbled over your words when his gaze fixed on you, trailing slowly over you in the morning light.
azriel really was grateful for the blocks you were removing from his mind, every wall you took down allowed him to realise something new, and the wall you’d removed last night allowed him to truly witness just how beautiful you were. and just how affected he was by it.
you were breathtaking, messy hair and wide eyes, shrouded by the golden light of the morning, and wreathed in twisting shadows as they wrapped around you, weaving through your hair, tickling your cheeks, teasing you. 
he couldn't even begin to have imagined such a sight. ethereal. 
“well, then, you’d better get going.” he showed no signs of moving, pulling your covers back up his body somewhat, and you gaped at him. 
“you- you’re staying here? in my bed? you’re not- you’ve not got things to do?”
“I have nothing else to do, and I’m comfy. I’ll probably still be here when you get back.”
“I- uh, okay.”
“unless you’d rather me come to training? we could work on your takedowns.”
“wait, whats wrong with my takedowns? I took down nesta, and gwyn!"
“and until you can take down me and cass, I’m not secure in your safety.”
you huffed at him, but there was a playful smile on your face, telling him you weren’t really mad, and he reached out, placing a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. your gaze tracked the movement. 
“so, will you come?” he raised a brow at you, and you gasped a little at the innuendo he’d turned it into. “to training! will you come to training?”
“I suppose so.” he sat up, stretching his arms over his head, and his shadows told him of the way you bit your lower lip, gaze flicking over his chest and arms, before snapping away to stare pointedly at the door before he caught you. “I’ll go and put on my leathers. I’ll meet you there, angel.”
rolling from the bed and flexing out the numbness from his wings, he leaned back over, one hand on the mattress beside you, one on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and pulling back.
“see you soon.”
he was practically breathless by the time he reached the corridor, closing the door behind himself, shoes in hand. 
on the way to his own bedroom, he crossed rhysand, who was passing to his office, coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, and his brows shot up. “alright, brother?”
“more than alright.”
“want to tell me about it?”
“not yet.” 
“in that case, good luck.”
az grinned, continuing on his way through the house to prepare himself for training.
and just like that, azriel’s favourite new hobby began; teasing you. seeing just how much he could make you blush, how far he could go, whether you felt the same way.
lingering hands that slipped a little lower than needed when you trained, stares that he knew were more than suggestive, winks to accompany jokes that pressed well beyond that of friendship.
now that he had decided to be truthful with friends, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he wasn’t sure how he ever did.
azriel liked to sit next to you, bury his face in your neck or hair, keep you tugged in close to his side. his arm lived permanently over the back of whatever seat you were on, and he always sat next to you, tucking hair away behind your ears, rubbing your back gently when you got sleepy, and holding you close to his chest every night when you slept. 
he simply couldn't get enough. 
after a few weeks, you’d stopped blushing and being as shocked. you’d caught onto his little game, he suspected, because you had begun making a habit of teasing him back.
you would kiss every cut and scrape and wound that he got once you’d fixed him up, lips teasing over the bandages as he pouted about it falsely.
you’d started to make him work for it, to always find someway to squirm or shuffle, to tease him with the possibility of leaving just so he’d have to grip a little tighter.
you’d taken to playing with his hands, running a the pad of your index over each finger and around his palm, featherlight touches that made him twitch.
and he loved it. every second of it, he loved it.
whenever he could get his hands on you, your hands on him, any part of his body touching you.
and when you weren’t there, his family had gotten more affectionate too. 
cassian gave him a hug every single time he saw him, and it was almost the fifth hug before azriel stopped feeling the lump form in his throat.
rhys had taken to patting his back and shoulders every chance he got while feyre had taken to squeezing his hands and arms. mor would ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks. he loved all of that, too. 
but he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved your touch. 
and so, the morning when azriel finally lay the last piece of his soul bare to you had felt so utterly normal.
he’d been in your bed that night, his legs were still tangled with yours in the early morning golden sun, noses almost touching as you shared a pillow, and just whispered about everything. his hand was tucked under your shirt to run over your skin lightly as your fingers played with his hair. 
it had been utterly perfect.
he’d told you about his mother, and the childhood he’d been locked away, and the healer who would be his only form of touch for years as she fixed him up after his brothers or step-father hurt him. 
he let you into that final piece of himself, and you’d made it beautiful, just like the rest. 
and so, when he'd leaned forwards, catching your lips with his own in a delicate meeting, it had felt so right. not heart-racing, not anxiety-inducing, not new and terrifying and bold. no, it had felt like coming home. 
and that terrified him.
it terrified him more so when he felt his chest hum, felt his heart skip a beat and the snap that made his breath rush from him. he felt it, felt a bond form, felt the bond form. he was scared.
he could feel his heart speeding up, his thoughts spinning, every mind-stilling technique he’d mastered over the years seemed to go out the window and azriel felt himself gaping at you in shock.
you were frowning at him now, and he could vaguely feel the touch of your fingers slip down from his hair to sit on his cheek, thumb stroking over his face, and every swipe felt like fire over his skin as his nerves electrified.
“not exactly the reaction you want to a mate bond.”
you were smiling, joking, and the breath once again felt pressed from him. this time, every muscle locked up, he went so still he felt like even the blood in his veins had stopped moving.
“you knew?”
a whirlwind of emotions whipping through him; confusion, anger, sadness, frail grief even as he pulled away from your touch on his face. 
he pushed himself to sit up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and the sound of your sigh made irritation bubble within him as he processed it. 
rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed, goosebumps lining his bare chest, all the way down to the boxers shorts he’s stripped down to sleep in.
then, there was a burst of concern in his chest, dizzying and disorientating for a moment before he realised it wasn’t his. it was yours, from the bond.
he snapped up walls around it, much the same feeling as the walls in his mind with rhysand, and just like that, soothing cold like his shadows took over where hot love and concern had once been. 
he stood, trying not to take in the hurt on your face as he closed his end of the bond.
“az..”
he stumbled a little at the sound of his name on your tongue, feeling so much, positive and negative; love and betrayal, hurt and anger, comfort and sadness. it was a maddening concoction.
“you knew! you knew and you didn’t tell me! how could you, how could you do that to me?”
he reached for his leathers, tugging the pants up his legs and fastening them right over his shorts, grabbing for his t-shirt next.
you sat up now, crawling across the bed and tangled in the sheets before reaching a hand out to him. 
“azriel.”
he flinched away from your touch, and your outstretched hand faltering before falling to rest on your thigh instead as you sat back on your heels.
“no, no, no. I need to think, don’t touch me right now. I just.. I need some space.”
“you need to think.. about us? about the bond?”
“I have some things to think about!” he was almost ashamed of the outburst as he tugged on his shirt, not even fastening it behind his back, and grabbing his boots and jacket in hand. 
“right… okay, sure.” your voice cracked, and azriel was sure that would have killed him to hear had he not been swirling with so much anger already.
and then he was leaving, slamming your door behind himself and making the journey back to his room barefoot. he barely processed the walk, he barely remembered seeing lucien in the corridor or seeing feyre in the foyer.
the first time his head was clear once again was hours later, when he found himself in front of a punching bag.
he’d done as he always had, and resorted to mindlessly pounding out his emotions whenever it was too much. there were weapons scattered around himself, practice swords near the wood pillars and spare wrapping for his knuckles on the bench, and he reached a hand out to stop the bag from swinging. 
there were mixed smells in the air, mostly his own sweat, that of the valkyries too. they must have come to training, and he hadn't even noticed. he’d been so caught up, so totally lost in his shadows and his feelings that he’d managed to block out the world entirely. 
he willed them back, away from the frenzy around him and into a somewhat calm semblance behind his body, a writhing mass of cool, collected terror.
it was only once they were drawn back that he noticed his brother, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway with his brows raised. 
“want to spar about it?”
his lips twitched up at the edges, and he glanced the ring, before nodding. 
cassian had always known just what he needed when he was in a mood like this.
then again, he’d never quite had a mood like this before. never the hurt of finding his mate, finding out his mate already knew and had deceived him, and then the betrayal to follow, all within minutes. no, this was brand new.
he didn’t want to talk, not as he watched cassian powder and wrap his hands, not as he watched his brother take stance, and not as they began to throw and dodge punches.
no, it wasn’t until azriel was dripping in sweat and panting so hard his lungs hurt that the therapeutic part of it finally kicked in, and his shoulders felt light enough to let the words sitting on his tongue free.
“she’s my mate.”
“yeah.” cassian didn’t even hesitate, and the shock of realising that cassian knew too was so stark he caught a punch across his jaw.
he swore, spitting out to the side and cutting a glare at his brother. he’d already landed a good few punches of his own, but he’d get him back for that one. 
“you knew as well?”
“yeah.” 
azriel landed a hard blow to his brother’s ribs, prompting more than just that one word out of him with a matching glower.
instead, cassian slowed the movements of his feet until they were standing still, panting and aching and loose of physical tension at last. wordlessly, he had stopped the fight, enough that they were actually going to talk about this, it seemed.
“she told me after that one mission, where you almost died and snapped at her real bad. when she woke up after her burnout, we talked about it. I wanted to apologise to her. she told me, that the bond  had snapped for her during that night when she was caring for you.”
azriel remembered that, or, the morning after, at least. how it had felt to wake up to you, to wake up to touch and feeling loved, and how he’d reacted much the same that morning as he had this morning. 
he’d freaked out, and snapped, and yelled a little bit. he cringed slightly at the comparison. 
his brother was smiling, unwrapping his hands. “so, it snapped for you too, then! when?”
“this morning, when we..” 
azriel cleared his throat as heat rose to his cheeks, and cassian wiggled his brows with a smirk. “when we..?”
“oh, gods, cass. when we kissed, that's it.”
then, cassian’s smile dimmed, and his gaze flicked around the room at the chaos left in azriel’s wake.
“so, if it snapped this morning, what the hell are you doing beating out your frustrations up here? there’s much more enjoyable ways to pass the energy surge, you know.”
he winked, and azriel merely rolled his eyes, but he had no anger left to spare at the moment. 
“I… was overwhelmed. I’ve waited so long, cassian, it took me by surprise. I freaked out a little bit, I was so shocked.”
“and?”
sometimes it scared him just how well his brother could read him. he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts enough to recall the morning the way it had happened, without the fog in his mind. 
“and then she told me that she knew. she knew all this time, knowing how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted a mate, and she kept it from me.”
“because you’re just known for your calm, logical reactions in moments of emotional stress. obviously.”
that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.
“she said she knew, I freaked out and said I needed some space to think, because how could she do that to me? I needed to leave and think some things through.”
“well, as long as you didn’t say it quite like that, but..” cassian shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a hearty gulp before tossing it to azriel. 
he was parched, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink when cassian had dropped a statement like that on him.
“that’s exactly how I said it. verbatim. what do you mean?”
“are you serious, azriel?” 
rarely did cassian ever take that tone with him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had, and azriel’s eyes widened a little in shock.
“let me just be sure I’m understanding this correctly. the woman who is head-over-heels for you, constantly gives you her all, openly adores you for all to see, you didn’t even suspect that she was your mate?”
“I mean, I hoped, but I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn't be disappointed-”
his excuse was cut off, ignored, as cassian held his hand up to him. 
“then, when the bond finally snaps for you, because you finally let that last bit of your walls down to actually let yourself be happy, that’s what you say?”
“harsh, cass.”
“you told that sweet, kind woman, who knew and was waiting for you to figure it out on your own, because you’re so stubborn and hard-headed that you won’t just let yourself be happy, that you needed to think? you didn’t stop to think that for all this time she’s been protecting that bond alone, the bond you didn’t pick up, loving you with her whole heart and soul while getting nothing back, you didn’t think about her? what she’s been going through? that about cover it?”
azriel had never quite been lectured like this by cassian before. he could only nod.
“you watched me get my heart broken over and over again by nesta until she realised. and you.. you.. what is there to think about? what, you don’t want her? what, that maybe she’s great for keeping your bed warm but not as a mate?”
something awful, horrible, cold and heavy and sinking settled into his stomach.
his chest felt hollow, that place where a bond had been for only seconds before he’d silenced it felt like a missing limb now.
the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.
if cassian thought those things, then maybe you-..
“oh, gods..”
“you’re such a dumbass.” cassian scoffed, frowning at him and placing his hands on his hips.
“okay, seriously, cassian. you are reaming my ass today, what the hell?”
“you deserve it!”
he couldn't argue that, all he could do was grumble about it.
he dropped those walls back down, reaching out for the bond and tugging. no reply, like a brick wall. he tried again, this time you had shut him out, and he hated how empty that made him feel. how much he must’ve hurt you by doing that.
“do you think I should-”
“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE STILL DOING HERE.”
“OKAY, OKAY.”
it was enough encouragement, enough to spur him from where he was frozen, not even bothering to unwrap his hands as he took off in a jog. 
once again, he was lost to everyone except his own thoughts. 
he missed rhysand as he passed his office and called out a greeting, and he missed elain as he flew in and out of the kitchen, he missed nesta who cursed at him for almost running straight into her.
he searched every room for you, coming up empty everywhere but your bedroom.
he was banging on your door, one hand curled into a fist as he shouted your name, refusing to just barge in when he had so clearly been shut out and cut off, but that resolve was wearing thin the longer you didn’t answer him. 
“angel, please, I just want to talk, stop shutting me out, c’mon.”
his shoulders were slumping, he hoped they weren’t shaking, as your silent treatment settled a heavy sense of foreboding within him.
“hey, az. what are you doing?” elain’s eyes were narrowed on him, and her arms were crossed over her chest as she took him in.
“hey, elain. I can’t find (y/n), she doesn’t want to talk to me.. I fucked up this morning and I know that and I’m sorry!” his voice rose toward the end of his sentence turning back to face the wood of your door and hoping you’d hear it.”
“az, she’s not in there.”
“you know where she is?” he didn’t even have enough to feel embarrassed as his head whipped to her.
“she went back to autumn a couple of hours ago.” elain only shrugged, because she didn’t have a crushing sense of defeat and loss and agony in her chest as she spoke those words. not like he did upon hearing them.
“she.. I mean, she.. what? why? when?” 
elain only shrugged once more. 
“I don’t know. I was out doing some early morning gardening before the heat of the day kicked in, and lucien came out in such a panic all of a sudden and told me he had to go back to autumn immediately, and was taking (y/n) with him. he wouldn’t tell me much more, just that he’d be out of touch for a few days. I barely even got a chance to say goodbye to him before they were winnowing out, bags in hand.” 
she sighed wistfully, clearly missing her mate dearly, and boy did azriel know how that now felt.
he felt hot, all over, and somehow cold at the same time. his body was aching, in all new ways from the vigorous training, his eyes stung so much it hurt to keep them open and will back the oncoming tears. 
“oh, az, don’t worry. they’ll be back soon, I just know it. why don’t we get you some tea, huh? I just brewed a fresh pot of berries and lemon.”
she reached up, one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm to lead him away. it was comforting, the warmth of her touch and the squeeze she gave, the smile to accompany it. but it wasn’t enough, not even close.
so he sat, with a cup of tea clenched between his hands, warming him slowly from the porcelain as elain rolled out bread dough on the counter behind him. 
it was as he took the final sip, staring into the bottom of the blue hand-made mug of feyre’s that elain finally spoke up. the question had been lingering in the air for almost twenty minutes, and he had been delaying it as long as possible.
“do you want to talk about it?”
“not really.”
“talk about it.”
“okay.” 
he’d long since given up on arguing with elain, whether it was her seer abilities, eavesdropping, or an uncanny ability to get information out of people, she’d gotten very good at knowing every single piece of gossip, and it was better to tell her himself than let her puzzle it out or hear it from cassian.
“in a nutshell, (y/n) is my mate, and I fucked it all up.”
“yes, well, I’d managed to piece that much together,” she smirked at him, wiping floury hands on her apron and pouring him a new mug of steaming tea, a spoonful of honey dunking into it to follow before she returned to her bread. “why don’t you tell me the rest?”
“she knew. cassian knew. you knew. everyone but me knew, apparently. the mailman and the courtiers from spring probably know. it snapped for me this morning, and I freaked out a little bit.” he pinched his fingers together, and then winced, expanding them some more “more than a little bit. I told her I needed to think about us, after basically accusing her of lying to me and implying she was awful for doing that, and then I.. stormed out.”
elain blew out a slow breath, slicing the dough into small cubes before shaping them up in circles. “well, it’s not great, I won’t lie. but, I don’t think she’d just run away from you. she’ll come back, she loves you, azriel, that means loving all the flaws that come with you, like brash decisions and saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and storming out.”
he let out an empty laugh at her teasing. somewhere deep down, he could see the logic in it all, but that didn’t stop it from hurting right now. 
“oh, az..” she brushed her hands down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and propping her chin atop his head, squeezing him lightly. he raised a hand, patting her elbow where it sat on his shoulder and sighing. “you two are going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.”
“are you saying that as my friend or as a seer?”
her silence was answer enough for him and he groaned, head flopping down to sit on his forearms on the table as she only chuckled.
that was how feyre and rhys found him an hour later when they came down for sandwiches made of fresh bread, and he was forced to say it all over again. 
then that evening, mor joined everyone for dinner and rhys forced him to reiterate it all over once more as he smirked. 
the following morning, nesta gave him a look as she passed him in the corridor, and he knew that cassian had told her, too.
the only reprieve was amren, who simply did not care, and told everyone as much when sensing the foul mood hanging over him. 
for three days he moped, every evening making him feel worse and worse.
he was lonely, his bed was cold, his chest was colder, and he felt like his heart wasn’t even beating. 
he’d always been confused before when hearing the rumours, the stories of people with rejected or lost mates, and yet now, he understood. 
he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to leave his bed, he wanted to lay, and fester alone, and wait.
azriel had been just fine before, just fine when nobody touched him, nobody told him what he could and couldn't have, when he was moping and broody and he’d never known any different. he was just fine imagining what his life could have been and never having it. 
but then he’d had it. he’d had love and affection and touch, he’d had someone make him their priority, he’d had someone to cheer him up on bad days and to make him laugh when he wanted to frown. he’d had someone. and now, he was back to having no one.
it was dinner on the fourth night, as he was sipping on his wine, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. 
his shadows stilled for a split second, swirling in slow motion before becoming frantic.
the front door was opened a moment later. the room around him went silent, all eyes moving to the foyer.
his spine straightened almost painfully as his hands clenched, trying to resist the urge to fly up from his seat and toward you.
a small smile formed on your face as you glanced around upon making it to the kitchen, and as rhysand stood, his legs twitched, wanting to copy. wanting to follow, to make his way to you, to-
“I’m sorry we just disappeared.” lucien sighed, wiping a hand over his face. he looked exhausted, like he’d spent days on end without sleep, he’d rarely seen the male so stressed. you looked worse. 
concern and panic flared up within him as he took in the circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders like even standing up was exhausting.
“I couldn't say anything until, well, until we knew what had actually happened. no easy way to say it, so, here it is. my father is dead.”
that shocked him, enough that he managed to tear his gaze from you for a second to stare at lucien, jaw dropping like almost everyone else. 
elain’s chair screeched back, she was on her feet a moment later, flying towards her mate and into his arms as she mumbled soothing apologies mixed with vague curses about the man, and lucien only chuckled.
“what happened?” mor burst, frowning in an attempt to seem apologetic, he was sure most of the looks around the table were false sympathy. he wasn’t sure that even lucien was all that upset by it. 
“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”
gasps sounded around the table, and he didn’t care to take in any of it, frowning when feyre stood from her seat and made her way to you, squeezing your hands in her own, and azriel hated it, because he wanted to be the one holding you.
before he could move, rhys was tapping at his shields, a sharp talon scratching down those mental walls he’d put up.
“lucien, we should talk about it. my office, if you’re willing?”
the redhead only nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head before disentangling himself. 
he glanced to his brother, mental conversation taking place, and he knew it was right, no matter how much he hated it. if beron had been assassinated, they needed to talk, and that involved him.
the sympathetic look on rhys’ face did nothing to soothe him, and it was like dragging his body through wet cement as he followed lucien, rhys and cassian out of the dining room and to his office.
for three torturous hours he tried to focus and give his best, and yet you were all he could think about. 
you were so close, you were back within the same four walls as he was, you were here, he could talk to you, get to you. he needed to.
as soon as he was free to go, he was outside of your bedroom door, knuckles tapping against the wood until he heard the faint ‘come in’ from the other side.
you were sitting in your bed, only the lamp beside you on.
“azriel, hey. I’ve been waiting for you.”
he couldn't feel any bone in his body as he all but sagged with relief. “you have?”
you only nodded as he took a few steps closer. “we should probably talk.”
well, there goes that relief.
his throat was burning, he felt so exposed and vulnerable and lost.
he was so caught up that he’d never noticed the return of that bond, the reopening of your end, until a wave of reassurance washed down it toward him.
there were tears in his eyes and his laugh was croaky as he rubbed his chest.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you left. I thought you were gone for good, I was so scared you weren’t coming back to me I thought I drove you away, and you have no idea how much that hurt, I couldn't even think. it- it was like my heart was missing from my chest, I love you so much, I can’t be apart from you, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to make you leave, I didn’t mean to make you sad. not that morning, or the morning after that night you saved my life. I’ll be better, okay? I won’t be so grumpy and I won’t jump to conclusions, and I’ll just tr-”
“oh, oh, az-” he could sense how overwhelmed you were, he was only making it worse, and he watched you kick at the sheets and crawl toward the edge of the bed. “azriel, baby, c’mere.”
you held your hands held out to him, just like they had days ago, and he didn’t make the same mistakes as last time. 
he stumbled forward, until your hands could take his face softly, thumbs swiping away the tears that were flowing steadily over his cheeks. 
one of his hands closed over your own, the other gripping the opposite wrist.
“I’m so sorry, angel.”
“az, gods, honey, I’d never leave you. I’m sorry, that I had to close the bond, but it was a court-wide lockdown, I was liable for treason if I didn’t. all communication had to be cut off, even lucien to elain.”
he could only nod, he’d known that much, because elain had started to grow just as sad as he’d been as of yesterday morning. 
“I’m not going anywhere, ever, okay? one little hiccup isn’t going to ruin what we have. you take as much time as you need to process it, gods know I spent the whole night I was mopping your forehead and checking your pulse was still there processing it.”
you pulled him forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and azriel was sure no drug or alcohol or deep breath as he broke the surface of the water had ever felt like this.
“I thought there was no way this moody bat who wants nothing to do with me is my mate.”
he laughed, hands finding your hips, your cheek resting on his temple as you hugged him close. “I’m sorry I was so rude the morning after.”
“that’s okay, I already forgave you for that a while ago. can you forgive me for not telling you for so long?”
“I already forgave you days ago. I’ve been in agony missing you ever since.”
you pulled away, despite his protests, kissing each of his damp cheeks gently. 
“do you want to get ready for bed and join me? I’ve almost finished my chapter.”
“you sure you still want me?”
“I’m never going to stop wanting you, azriel. you’re mine, and I’m yours. I love you.”
“I love you.”
azriel was quick to strip down, all the way to his boxers, leaving his leathers over the back of the chair and his boots by the door.
you were still kneeling and looking at him fondly, and the air around him seemed to warm with affection, every nerve in his body relaxing.
“you ready for bed?”
“..yes.”
“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”
“I don’t think I could be close enough to you tonight if we actually became one person.” 
he wasn't sure where such a confession came from, but you laughed at him, big smile and eyes closing and he didn’t care. if bearing his soul to you meant relaxed laughing and pretty smiles and feeling like this, he’d tell you every soppy, silly thought he’d ever had.
while your eyes were closed, he moved, all but tackling you onto the bed and burying his face into your neck. 
it only made you laugh more, hands gripping at his shoulders, squirming as his hands ran up and down your sides to tickle, pinned underneath him and breathless as you giggled. 
“az! what about the covers, my book, the lights!”
“don’t care.” he pressed a kiss to the crook between your neck and shoulder, finally relenting his tickling to simply lay on you instead.
love and playful joy and the feeling of fullness flushed down the bond, filling his chest as you caught your breath under him. 
you shifted again.
“az, honey, please-”
“I love it when you call me that.” he groaned, nudging his nose against your jaw, cheeks aching from the smile on his lips. you only tugged at a handful of the covers under your bodies.
“I'm gonna’ freeze in the night, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”
“that’s what happens when you wear these little nightgowns to bed.”
pinching some of the silk slip between his fingers, he jerked it lightly, and you smacked his hand away.
“they’re comfy! and besides, do you know how hot it gets in bed with you?” he pushed himself up, unable to stop the cassian-like smirk on his face as a very cassian-like joke passed through his mind. he needed to stop spending so much time with his brother. “oh, cut it out. you are like a furnace, but above the covers, I’m all exposed, my legs will get cold.”
“no winning with you, huh?”
“you’re gonna’ have to get used to losing arguments if you’re gonna’ be with me, honey.” 
he sighed dramatically, despite the skip of his heart which he knew you felt too, and he lifted himself up, pulling back the covers so you could get beneath, and settling himself in beside you. 
with the book gone and the lights out, azriel shuffled himself closer, resting one scarred palm on your cheek in the dark. “now can we cuddle?”
“yes, shadowsinger, illyrian warrior, terrifying-” he scoffed, leaning in to cut you off with a kiss, one which was cut short by your giggling.
“wasn’t it you that told me none of those things define me, and they don’t stop me being worthy of love?”
“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”
“much better.”
“we can cuddle now.”
he tugged you closer, close enough that his forehead touched yours, cheeks on the same pillow, and he’d never felt happier than this moment, bond singing between your bodies.
after a moment, you moved, head tucking under his chin, legs tangling, and he circled his arms right around you, one wing following.
azriel felt like he was practically melting into you, as the slow traces of your fingers up and down his arm drained away every bit of stress from his body.
“everything is different with you, az. when you hold me, I feel so safe. I feel protected, like nothing can go wrong in the world.”
his heart swelled and he dipped enough to kiss your hairline in response, your nose following, before his lips were meeting with your own.
it was fragile, and soft, and perfect. everything he’d ever wanted. 
it was the kind of kiss that promised every day, not the passion of one night or the teasing of something more. this kiss spoke to every part of him, it filled his heart, made him proud and happy and contented, and he loved it.
“when you hold me, I feel like I can finally be vulnerable. like someone sees every single part of me, and loves me. I don’t feel scared to show you every part of my soul. I am completely and wholly yours.”
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actualhumantrashcan · 7 months
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I can understand a silly workplace comedy about pirates not being everyone’s jam but I really can’t understand the amount of queer people I see hating on ofmd.
like for one thing most of the debates turn into gatekeeping queerness (which I think has a lot more to do with the ages of the main couples than actual concerns about authentic representation but that’s another post) and the rest are just hateful because it doesn’t directly name or label it’s queer characters but like why do we need that at this point?? listen I love heartstopper with all my heart but it is exhausting to watch them explain queer identities sometimes (even though I do think it’s super useful for younger audiences I’m just not the target demographic!) and ofmd is an explicit, violent, adult show that doesn’t NEED to explain it’s character’s identities.
queer people past their 30’s are usually very well aware of their queerness and have had (hopefully) plenty of time to go through the arc of discovering that. so why would we need to see Stede or Lucius or Ed going through turmoil because they’re attracted to men when they have already come to terms with that at this point in their lives?? i for one find it so fucking refreshing to watch a show where the characters being queer is not their main arc, they just ARE queer and life is still happening to and around them. maybe that’s just the millennial gay in me talking, but it gets emotionally exhaustive to watch show after show where the queer character’s arc is overcoming homophobia. yes obviously homophobia still exists and yes obviously if ofmd was trying to be historically accurate these characters would be living in a very dangerous time to be queer but it isn’t trying to be accurate!! it’s trying to be fun and diverse and kind!!
and also, they aren’t pretending homophobia doesn’t exist!! it’s just addressed in a different way. Stede was emotionally abused by his father for his entire life for being “soft” and then was chased down by his homophobic childhood bullies, one of which explicitly told him that he “defiled” the great pirate Blackbeard by simply falling in love with the man behind that name. Meanwhile Ed was forced into the world of piracy at a young age and developed the entire persona of Blackbeard (who fits the toxic, violent masculine stereotype of the time) to hide the fact that he’s actually an incredibly sensitive and deeply queer man! and is told multiple times by male figures in his life that sex with other men is fine but it is absolutely unacceptable to be in love with a man. both of their arcs contain homophobic rhetoric that is still present in society today, but its never presented as a problem that they have to wrestle with. they don’t have to come to terms with what it means to love each other, they just have to overcome some trials that go along with the complicated lives they both lead as a pirate and former aristocrat. the homophobia in ofmd is woven into the backstory of each and every character, it shapes them into the people they are at the beginning of the show when all of their walls are up and they are performing the “pirate” roles they are supposed to play. and then we get to see them grow and realize that they are in a safe space, part of a community not just on the ship itself but in the life of piracy (which in the show is pretty much explicitly an allegory for queer lifestyles.)
anyway, I could rant about this all day but just truly why do we have to tear people down for enjoying something? why do we have to find reasons to hate something so obviously created with sensitivity to it’s queer audience and with so much queer joy? if historically inaccurate gay pirates going on silly adventures and falling in love are not your thing, fine! but perhaps just let people enjoy things and find your own things to enjoy.
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omegalomania · 1 year
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the full apple music interview with zane lowe is out! we got snippets of it when love from the other side dropped, but they finally rolled out the full thing. here are some highlights that stood out to me :)
patrick describes pete's lyrics as what gets him out of bed in the morning. if pete doesn't send him lyrics, he doesn't write a song.
andy and pete used to draw fake snake tattoos on each other using magic markers as kids omg?
so evidently patrick was the one who got covid during hella mega tour. and he hated it and he was miserable and that's when he called neal avron about the new record lmao
patrick says that joe was hesitant at first and he was the one who said that for this record he wanted to make something that they could all savor and spend time on and patrick was immediately on board with that
pete says patrick's job is to interpret him because pete calls his mentality a "little bit off" but patrick is capable of understanding him and translating it
patrick describes his and pete's creative relationship as "twin speak." it's not linear and it's like living in his brain a little bit. he calls it the "weirdest thing i've ever seen" when pete can just Tell that some words that patrick adjusted weren't ones he wrote despite not remembering writing them. patrick says he's gotten better at connective tissue and knowing how pete would say things
pete: back in the day patrick was like, "what's the difference between cry and weep i will KILL YOU. THEY'RE THE SAME THING. I'M GONNA KILL YOU RIGHT NOW."
zane says patrick's vocals are next level for this album. pete agrees that he kills it on this album and said he never would've expected that voice coming from him when they first met. zane says patrick could sing a recipe and it would be good. he then passes patrick a recipe and patrick. sings it???
patrick: i'm not gonna belt it. (starts belting) NINE INCH PIE PLATE ROLLING PIN
patrick says that pete doesn't mean to have rhythm to his words but there's a rhythm to them all the same and patrick can find this syncopation in his words and thinks it's amazing
more talking about patrick and pete's Magical Mystical Transcendent Soul Bond. patrick says "if we were one guy, we'd be an INCREDIBLE DUDE"
patrick and pete say that interviews with all four of them are hard because it's chaos and everyone's talking at once but it all makes perfect sense to them and no one else. zane says that sounds like fun flkjdfd [i agree please do this more it's a joy]
pete says joe really stepped up and wrote a lot for this record!
patrick: "joe is kind of a conundrum because he's this really talented...he's a brilliant writer, a brilliant player, but pete and i became the "team" and it wasn't really a plan, but that's just kind of how it happened. [brief tangent about the hiatus] we come back from the thing and joe is this fully-formed writer with a very distinct - he has one of the most distinctive writing voices. when i hear his parts, when i hear his ideas, i could pick them out of a crowd. like i know the way joe writes, and it's VERY joe." part of the process with post-hiatus was integrating him into the writing process more.
discussing the hiatus and fame and pete says his life kind of "blew up" and took it pretty hard. apparently during production for folie paparazzi actually broke down the gate to neal avron's house
patrick goes on a big tangent about how bad things got during the height of pete's fame. "part of my role is to tell his story. i'm a composer. that's what i like to do. i work on movies, i work on shows, and i work on pete. pete has a story that needs music, and if he's removed from himself, if he's not even able to access himself because he's behind all of this stuff, i don't have a story! so not only did i not have my buddy, which was heartbreaking in its own way, but then i also don't have a purpose as an artist."
patrick says that andy is always ready to play but when you get him happy to play, it's another level
"and trohman, there were these moments where he...he got so excited."
patrick describes writing what a time to be alive as wanting to write the saddest, most desperate song you could hear at a wedding. pete bursts into laughter and calls it "so twisted"
talking about other endeavors outside the band - patrick talks about composing and said joe's been super busy with his book and writing for tv and because there are so many deadlines for stuff like that, it's what hammered home to him that fall out boy needs to not be that. "there's something special about this that can't be...this has to be passionate and art."
discussing how scared patrick was of his own voice while the band took off. patrick was really scared of the song saturday at first because there are some really exposed vocal moments. he describes saturday as a song where everyone in the band lets each other go for it.
zane calls fall out boy the "emo blueprint" and says they were unapologetic in being emotional. patrick immediately says, "that was pete. i don't think we could've done that without him." he and joe were basically kids and patrick was too anxious to talk on stage.
zane says, "i remember interviewing you in the early days and i felt like every time i asked you a question i was bullying you." pete IMMEDIATELY loses his shit.
"in another life where i didn't have a pete...cause saturday, i did write most of that by myself...so there's a world where that song exists without the band. there's no world where i sing it in front of people without pete."
pete says every night before they put out a new song he calls patrick up and gets really scared and wants to back out and patrick talks him down every time
they talk about how scary it was when arm's race released and performing it at the amas. patrick starts laughing rly hard as they get into how there were giant crickets on stage and the crowd was just stone-faced and utterly nonresponsive and their stage manager was utterly panicked
towards the end patrick really loosens up and starts swearing more dlkfjdfd
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