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jinuaei · 1 month

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Cleaning up

Yandere! Husband! Alastor x Fallen Angel! Accidental Spouse! Reader

Part 1 --- Additional art

Maybe it was a bad idea to be married to this man. You thought as you saw other demons run away and cower from him, you would have also ran with them if only the person that everyone is so terrified of wasn't holding your arm hostage.

It would have been embarrassing getting dragged around by this tall deer if it wasn't the fact that you're also pissing yourself sacred. But the good thing is he actually believes that you are his ‘spouse’, so you don't think you'll be hurt…much. Besides, he’s such a gentleman that he gave you his coat to cover up your wings so that it wouldn't be exposed to any more harm.

After a while of trying not to trip, actually stumbling, and Alastor dragging you up again and again, you manage to notice the change of scenery, from tall depressing buildings to smaller, more quaint establishments. The demons that also frequent the streets changed from shark demons, to red imps, and finally to black eyed demons with sharp teeth.

Well, at least they look friendly.

“This place here is the cannibal town! We’ll be visiting a good friend of mine, I’m sure she’ll be able to clean you up in no time!” your ‘husband’ exclaimed.

I reclaim that statement.

The town is charming, and rather calming in contrast to that chaotic, overstimulating city you crashed landed in. Despite being in hell, there were flowers growing here, clearly being taken care of wonderfully by the citizens of this town. Vintage cars roam around the road and you see children playing in the parks you've passed through. It’s almost identical to what you see in heaven, but more demonic and nobody uses cars because well, everybody has wings. When you are reminded about the wings, yours twitches in response, rubbing against the deer’s coat. Because of that, feathers, still stained with blood, fall off. Alastor’s shadow tendril grabs it midair and pockets it into his trousers.

Finally, the radio demon abruptly stops, giving you enough time to stabilize yourself properly. With a wave of his hand he shows off to you a building named ‘Franklin and Rosie Emporium’, and you notice on the side there is a huge line of people waiting to enter. Whatever they sell here must be quite popular. Now that you think about it, it might be related to the ‘cannibalism’ part of the town.

Alastor must be important here because people moved away from him as he waltzed through the entrance and into the door. As soon as you both step in, an exclamation of his name catches both of you and your ‘husbands’ attention.

“Oh Alastor! It's always a delight when you come to visit the Emporium, how have you been? And oh! Who is this adorable birdie? Though they look absolutely filthy,” the demon steps into the view, a sweet looking lady with a polite smile who gingerly holds your hands.

“Rosie, meet mon cher, sent by the heavens to become my beloved spouse,” the radio demon lifts up your chin with his fingers, moving your head side to side as if to show you off to Rosie, “Also, would you be a dear and help them clean up? I expect my spouse to be absolutely pristine considering they're married to the greatest radio host of all time!”

“Well, I’ll be delighted to play dress-up with the sweet thing, maybe you can run to the tailors real quick and find them new clothes too.”

Agreeing to that, Alastor waves you goodbye and leaves, Rosie then ushers you to follow her while shouting at Franklin to man the store while she's out. You both emerge to a room above the shop, Rosie leading you to a spare bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It's quite homey, with mostly red as its main colour, other than that, nothing stands out to you.

“You can stay here for the time being as you wait for your husband, bathrooms over there, and there should be bandages and such under the sink. I will be down below to help Franklin with the customers, just find me if you need help!” Rosie closes the door to the room and leaves you to your lonesome. It's time to clean up, you think.

Stepping into the normal looking bathroom, a bathtub greeted you, thankfully it's big enough to fit you and your broken wings. You absentmindedly fill up the tub as you think back to before you fell, trying to determine what happened to cause you to fall from heaven's graces. Nothing comes to mind and eventually the tub fills up.

Shrugging off your ripped clothes and Alastor's coat, you sink into the water, seeping into the open wounds on your body. As much as you want to climb out the tub, it's important to rid yourself first from the golden blood and debris that cover you. You look over your whole body under the tainted water, you are covered in cuts and bruises but other than that, there's no concerning wounds to be found. Well, other than the numbing pain of your wings. Now that you think about it, your halo has been missing the whole trip. You can sense that it's there, but you cannot feel it above you, nor do you see it illuminate the room.

Maybe it's just hidden?

As you think that, the halo starts to manifest just above you, the glow weaker and flickering just slightly as if it's a broken bulb. You frown at the sheer difference from when you were in heaven, when it was incredibly bright, the other angels would tease you for being a walking lighthouse sometimes. When you lift up your hand to touch the halo, you notice a mark on your ring finger. Looking closer, it seems like a tattoo, of two snakes twisting into something akin to chains. How odd.

A knock pulls you out from your thoughts and a voice from the other room calls out to you.

“I’ll be leaving out your clothes on the bed my dear, Rosie will come by in a moment to help you with your hair!”

You quickly finish the bath and stumble in front of the mirror. Eyes darting to your mirrored self, you gaze upon the broken wings and dim halo, you are ashamed to see what you are now. Though you have done nothing to cause the fall, you still feel the undeserved guilt of being wrong. Ingrained to you during your time alive and dead, but you yourself know you've been good, so why berate yourself over other people's definition of good and evil?

Still, you try to will away the angelic limbs attached to you, and are successful in hiding it, leaving only red patches of burned skin on your back. Thankfully, you were able to soothe the irritated skin and patch up the area fairly well.

You close the door behind you and check out the clothes Alastor got for you, it's similar to his in design but also suited to you. How he was able to get your size right you're not sure. Regardless, it fits you perfectly, and there's even an opening at the back for your wings, though you've already willed it away, still you appreciate the sentiment.

“Are you done honey?” a knock reverberates in the room and you answer with a ‘come in!’. Rosie does and is pleasantly surprised at the lack of wings on your back. You remember the coat left in the bathroom and grab it, shrugging it on to cover the exposed skin and bandages.

The cannibal guides you to the vanity, starting to brush your hair.

“So you're Al’s little angel hm? How’d he manage to catch such a cutie pie?” The woman's Boston accent grabs your attention from the various tools in front of you.

“Well… As he said earlier I’ve been assigned to him as his spouse haha…” you laugh awkwardly,”but enough about me! How about Alastor…What is he like?”

“Oh! He’s such a sweetheart! Well he is an Overlord, he eats other demons, and kills for fun, but don't you worry about that! You're his darling, he wouldn't do anything to harm you. You're in good claws sweetie.”

“Sorry, what???”

“Hm?”

Rosie just smiles at you before finishing up your look. And might you say, looking at the mirror you look absolutely breathtaking. Coming out of the room, you find Alastor in the kitchen cooking. The smell wafting around the house is magnificent, you are reminded how hungry you are after falling from heaven.

“There you are my dear, I made some Jambalaya for you! My momma always said once I got my own cherie I should always provide for them for the rest of our days. So, expect more of this dear,” the man hums an upbeat tune as he gives you a plate of the food.

Adorably, he wears a yellow apron that says ‘Deer-est cook’ at the front, you also notice that he had his hair up with a ribbon in a low ponytail.

You were excited to consume the meal right in front of you but then you remember where in hell you are now.

“...Did you put demon meat in the Jambalaya…?”,eyes glancing up at him, the question lingers in the air as he catches your eyes and stares back, still smiling. A few unnerving seconds pass before he answers with a ‘of course not!’

You breathe out in relief and trust your so-called ‘husband’.

Or maybe I shouldn't trust what he says, but he's still staring, what if he gets angry that I won't eat it?? Oh heavens, please forgive me.

With closed eyes, you finally bite down on the food. Praying to all things holy, hoping that you did not do anything blasphemous by accidentally eating demon meat, you find yourself pleasantly surprised at how delicious it was. You almost forget proper etiquette when you start ravenously gulping down the rest of the food.

The demon before you chuckles in delight at the sight of you enjoying your food. As much as he would like to feed you his exotic diet, he would rather not force you to do anything you don't want to. And oh…the pleased shiver that ran down his spine at the trust you've shown him by not questioning him any further regarding the meal was truly delicious.

Dear angel… MY dear angel. How perfect you are… I'll never let you go. After all, you were made for me weren't you?

“I forgot to tell you how absolutely darling you are in that outfit! I must say I have quite the taste! Haha!” he laughs at his joke,��might I ask where your wings are? I could’ve sworn it was there when I left! Unless you cut it off? You should’ve asked me though, I’m sure your wings would be a delicacy…”

“I was able to hide it, I don’t want to be a walking target you know? An angel down in hell seems like a bad thing to be.”

“Oh don’t worry about being a target! I’ll kill whoever tries to even look at you wrongly,” crooning at you, he brushes away invisible dust on his coat, “also you may keep my coat dear, it’ll be a good way to show people that you belong to me now, that is until I can find a ring worthy enough to be worn by you!”

“I-uh thank you…”

Crap. If I don't escape soon I'll be officially married to him. Then again…if he keeps cooking me good food I guess it won't be too bad…

With that in mind, you hope your future will be brighter than your descent to hell.

A/N GODDD THAT TOOK SO LONG. Honestly, the more people kept asking for part 2 the less inclined I was to actually make one but here I am.

That being said, I will be making more fics at my own pace. Finals is coming up so please do not expect new parts for this fic. Truth is ITS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS! It was merely an idea I had while I was in an art block. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it :DD

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#yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

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rebeljewel · 2 years

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Watch "𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍♌🦁☀️⭐👑Be Proud and Loud. Confidence and Courage. Self Love Affirmations For Men" on YouTube

Watch “𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍♌🦁☀️⭐👑Be Proud and Loud. Confidence and Courage. Self Love Affirmations For Men” on YouTube

#leo #sekhmet #affirmations #lion #Lioness #IWill #SelfLove #Love #YouTube #Star #Superstar #bravery #courage #sundayvibes #SundayMorning #SundayFunday #affirm #unapologetic #stayambitious #nevergiveup #neversurrender #righteousnessovereverything #lioness

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#affirmations #ankh earrings #art #Beauty #black love #black man #black owned business #black woman #clothing brand #exclusive brand #fashion #I love me #Quotes #rasta #rasta love #reggae #sacred #sacred woman #self love

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undercoverpena · 9 months

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home and the ghost mug

simon “ghost” riley x reader (cod)

this is unedited, and born from a random thought as I put away dishes and cleaned my kitchen at 1am. warnings: none. themes: fluff, cute mug moment, ghost and a non-military partner. just toothrotting 1am thoughts.

you don’t like to think you live alone, but you know you spend more time waiting, than you have with him.

this time it’s been months. the last contact weeks ago. it’s normal, but it doesn’t lessen the frustration you feel—or how it balls and clumps with worry.

you know you signed on to this. married yourself to the wondering and standing by when you bought the house with him. it’s why you’ve perfected the art of keeping busy, remaining distracted.

today, your mind slips. falls down on the job, scrapes the skin from your knees and bruises your heart. thoughts appearing, the faint sound of his gruff voice echoing in the walls. unable to unsee the shadow of his last time here—how broad he appears in your door frames.

it’s the slip up that means you unconsciously make a tea for yourself in his mug. a no-go, a thing you never do. the cup sacred, forever off limits unless he’s here. the one you’d bought as a joke, wrapped it in paper and watched him stare at it when he unveiled the skull on the side with the bone handle.

“this bought for me?”

“well, it’s not for next door, simon.”

suddenly, you don’t fancy tea. your heart aching, all heavy and downtrodden in your chest. so you pour it away, washing it out and putting it away quickly. because you know it’ll sting seeing it on the drainer in the morning. practically punch you in the gut—because your mind will trick itself into thinking he’s home. that he’s back. for whatever time he can spare.

by the time his car pulls onto the drive, the house is coated in darkness. the moon full, high in the sky. shimmering a luminescent glow on everything and anything it can touch.

you must be tired, shattered. no murmur of his name or quickened footsteps when he slides his key on the lock, when he takes his boots off. he does do it with precision, care—almost mouse like for a man that’s more mountain than man. shoving them away in the contraption you bought sometime between the two of you moving in and him coming back to you.

and because the house is quiet, silent. a pin being dropped sounding like a shout, he begins his routine. the one where he shoves the things away he doesn’t need to have. not needing reminders of what he does as ghost when he’s trying to focus on being simon.

his routine concludes with a shower in the downstairs guest bathroom, watching the places he’s just been slide down the plug hole, all out of sight, out of mind. you know this routine, keeping some of his casual clothes—sweats and tees in a drawer, for moments like this.

even if he should expect it by now, he still smiles as your genuineness. your kindness. the one that comes ti you with ease.

it’s why he craves being next to you, being able to hear your breaths—close his eyes and allow the evidence to bury the niggling worries he amasses when he’s not with you.

but, joining you isn’t possible. discovering you star-fished, snoring lightly—one of his t-shirts covering and concealing you. practically burying you. and so he closes the door, heads back downstairs. running a hand over the back of his head, feeling clumps of long and short hair from his bad diy cut you’ll undoubtedly have things to say about.

but it isn’t until he’s walking past the kitchen, does he notice the mug and glass cupboard ajar. a thought appearing, his hand retrieving his mug and placing it on the side. a sign, he hopes—a bold exclamation that he is home, in case you wake before him.

you don’t wake before him. simon and fucked up body clock, as usual, wakes at the first break of sunlight. only rising from the guest bed when he hears the floorboards above. your feet eventually coming down the staircase, all slow and heavy, his mind imagining you rubbing your eyes, softly sighing at another day.

he waits in the doorway—the one connecting the guest bedroom to the kitchen—watching you come to a standstill, eyes blinking as you stare at the mug.

simon doesn’t know the error you made yesterday, that you’re going through a crisis of whether you’d put it away or not. whether you’d lost your mind from missing him so much.

he just knows you’re not reacting. not whispering, never mind shouting his name. so he clears his throat, loud, purposeful.

and your head spins—he’s even pretty sure he hears it crack—and then the reaction he expected lands.

it erupts over your face. an explosion of confusion and joy, tear-filled eyes and a large smile, before you’re in his arms, face buried against his chest as he feels you shake with sobs he hopes are because you’re happy.

“take it you’re happy i’m home?”

“more than you think.”

his chin comes to rest on the top of your head, fingers stroking up and down your back.

the mug becomes a sign, a beacon.

it only ever used to indicate he was home—a trophy that remains on the side, until he gets the call that he has to go.

then he is the one to put it away, hating how he turns to always find your lips being chewed by your teeth.

“it’ll be back out before you know it.”

“it better be.”

simon doesn’t promise. because he knows—as do you—that there’s none he can keep in the games he plays. he comforts you without words, his mouth slanted over yours.

I’ll always fight to get home to you.

#ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii x reader #cod ghost #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod x you #mwii x reader #ghost x you #Simon Riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mwii #cod mw2 ghost

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youjustdontunderstandmymusic · 3 months

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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months

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South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 2)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

Part 1

In the previous post, I discussed some of the things ATLA got right in its depictions of desi and hindu cultures. unfortunately, they also got plenty of things wrong - often in ways that leaned towards racist caricatures - so let's break them down, starting with...

Guru Pathik

both the word "guru" and name "pathik" come from sanskrit. pathik means "traveler" or "he who knows the way" while guru is a term for a guide or mentor, similar to a teacher.

gurus were responsible for the very first education systems in ancient india, setting up institutions called gurukuls. students, referred to as disciples, would often spend years living with and learning from their gurus in these gurukuls, studying vedic and buddhist texts, philosophy, music and even martial arts.

however, their learning was not limited merely to academic study, as gurus were also responsible for guiding the spiritual evolution of their disciples. it was common for disciples to meditate, practice yoga, fast for days or weeks, and complete mundane household chores every day in order to instill them with self-discipline and help them achieve enlightenment and spiritual awareness. the relationship between a guru and his disciple was considered a sacred, holy bond, far exceeding that of a mere teacher and student.

aang's training with guru pathik mirrors some of these elements. similar to real gurus, pathik takes on the role of aang's spiritual mentor. he guides aang in unblocking his chakras and mastering the avatar state through meditation, fasting, and self-reflection - all of which are practices that would have likely been encouraged in disciples by their gurus.

pathik's design also takes inspiration from sadhus, holy men who renounced their worldly ties to follow a path of spiritual discipline. the guru's simple, nondescript clothing and hair are reflective of the ascetic lifestyle sadhus are expected to lead, giving up material belongings and desires in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and, ultimately, liberation from the reincarnation cycle.

unfortunately, this is where the respectful references end because everything else about guru pathik was insensitive at best and stereotypical at worst.

it is extremely distasteful that the guru speaks with an overexaggerated indian accent, even though the iranian-indian actor who plays him has a naturally british accent. why not just hire an actual indian voice actor if the intention was to make pathik sound authentic? besides, i doubt authenticity was the sole intention, given that the purposeful distortion of indian accents was a common racist trope played for comedy in early 2000s children's media (see: phineas and ferb, diary of a wimpy kid, jessie... the list goes on).

furthermore, while pathik is presented a wise and respected figure within this episode, his next (and last) appearance in the show is entirely the opposite.

in the episode nightmares and daydreams, pathik appears in aang's nightmare with six hands, holding what appears to be a veena (a classical indian music instrument). this references the iconography of the hindu deity Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge. the embodiment of divine enlightenment, learning, insight and truth, Saraswati is a member of the Tridevi (the female version of the Trimurti), one of the most respected and revered goddesses in the Hindu pantheon... and her likeness is used for a cheap laugh on a character who's already treated as a caricature.

that's bad enough on its own, but when you consider that guru pathik is the only explicitly south asian coded character in the entire show, it's downright insulting. for a show that took so many of its foundational concepts from south asia and hinduism and yet provided almost no desi representation in return, this is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Chakras

"chakra", meaning "circle" or "wheel of life" in sanskrit, refers to sources of energy found in the human body. chakra points are aligned along the spine, with energy flowing from the lowest to the highest point. the energy pooled at the lowest chakra is called kundalini, and the aim is to release this energy to the highest chakra in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and consciousness.

the number of chakras varies in different religions, with buddhism referencing five chakras while hinduism has seven. atla draws from the latter influence, so let's take a look at the seven chakras:

Muladhara (the Root Chakra). located at the base of the spine, this chakra deals with our basest instincts and is linked to the element of earth.

Swadhisthana (the Sacral Chakra). located just below the navel, this chakra deals with emotional intensity and pleasure and is linked to the element of water.

Manipura (the Solar Plexus Chakra). located in the stomach, this chakra deals with willpower and self-acceptance and is linked to the element of fire.

Anahata (the Heart Chakra). located in the heart, this chakra deals with love, compassion and forgiveness and is linked to the element of air. in the show, this chakra is blocked by aang's grief over the loss of the air nomads, which is a nice elemental allusion.

Vishudda (the Throat Chakra). located at the base of the throat, this chakra deals with communication and honesty and is linked to the fifth classical element of space. the show calls this the Sound Chakra, though i'm unsure where they got that from.

Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra). located in the centre of the forehead, this chakra deals with spirituality and insight and is also linked to the element of space. the show calls it the Light Chakra, which is fairly close.

Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra). located at the very top of the head, this chakra deals with pure cosmic consciousness and is also linked to the element of space. it makes perfect sense that this would be the final chakra aang has to unblock in order to connect with the avatar spirit, since the crown chakra is meant to be the point of communion with one's deepest, truest self.

the show follows these associations and descriptions almost verbatim, and does a good job linking the individual chakras to their associated struggles in aang's arc.

Cosmic Energy

the idea of chakras is associated with the concept of shakti, which refers to the life-giving energy that flows throughout the universe and within every individual.

the idea of shakti is a fundamentally unifying one, stating that all living beings are connected to one another and the universe through the cosmic energy that flows through us all. this philosophy is referenced both in the swamp episode and in guru pathik telling aang that the greatest illusion in the world is that of separation - after all, how can there be any real separation when every life is sustained by the same force?

this is also why aang needing to let go of katara did not, as he mistakenly assumed, mean he had to stop loving her. rather, the point of shedding earthly attachment is to allow one to become more attuned to shakti, both within oneself and others. ironically, in letting go of katara and allowing himself to commune with the divine energy of the universe instead, aang would have been more connected to her - not less.

The Avatar State

according to hinduism, there are five classical elements known as pancha bhuta that form the foundations of all creation: air, water, earth, fire, and space/atmosphere.

obviously, atla borrows this concept in making a world entirely based on the four classical elements. but looking at how the avatar spirit is portrayed as a giant version of aang suspended in mid-air, far above the earth, it's possible that this could reference the fifth liminal element of space as well.

admittedly this might be a bit of a reach, but personally i find it a neat piece of worldbuilding that could further explain the power of the avatar. compared to anyone else who might be able to master only one element, mastering all five means having control of every building block of the world. this would allow the avatar to be far more attuned to the spiritual energy within the universe - and themselves - as a result, setting in motion the endless cycle of death and rebirth that would connect their soul even across lifetimes.

#atla #atla cultural influences #hinduism in atla #welp i thought this would be the last part but i ended up having more to talk about than i thought #so i'll save the book 3 inspirations for the next post #including my absolute favourite combustion man #and by favourite i mean kill it with fire why did you ever think this was okay to do writers

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anniflamma · 4 months

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Time for Apollo and Hephaestus!

Both of these two gods were very tricky for me to put on the table.

Apollo has essentially always been portrayed as either a pale/blond/twunk with a bandana or dark-skinned/abs/manly shoulder with beautiful golden locks. It's either one of these two types that I see everyone portray him. So... well... I leaned into the pale/skinny option, and I got this.

I think that I leaned more into his musical aspect in his design. Like he is a singer/dancer and is very gracious in how he moves, kind of similar to Aphrodite! I can imagine that I will update his design for his other aspects, like medicine or archery! But this is fan art for a musical first, so he should be the musician for now!

I also wanted to add references of his three most well-known lovers, Daphne, Hyacinthus, and Cyparissus. Due to me wanting to use Apollo's sacred floras of laurel, larkspur, and cypress. However, I noticed pretty fast that larkspur isn't related at all to Hyacinthus.... The flowers do look alike but are different, so I just added the larkspur flower to the sides of Apollo's lyre! The laurel crown is actually a nod to the raven. That idea I got from a commenter on TikTok on my Zeus design! Couldn't help but use that idea! So it's raven feathers instead of the regular leaves.

I am also thinking about if I'll ever design other forms for Apollo, then, I think it would be pretty neat as well to portray him as a god of disease. Maybe his dress becomes all black?

Then we have Hephaestus!

GOSH! I WAS THIS CLOSE TO GIVE HIM THE MOST SLUTTY WAIST THERE EVER WAS. It's not me who drew him with a small waist and wide hips in ancient pottery art!

But I ended up giving him a more rectangular shape, which is nice! He looks very warm and cuddly! He was also a very hard character to make him stand out. Right now, I am actually not that happy with his design overall. I do really like the idea of him using prosthetics, but I am not sure about his clothing. My first idea was that he would have a big reminiscence of Hera, that his clothes were flowy and airy like her dress. But it didn't really fit the aesthetics of him being a blacksmith. Then I tried to play around with implementing the Donkey in his design, and he just ended up looking like a troll... So right now, he kind of has this regular everyday blacksmith look.

I will probably set him on fire in the animatic once his song comes out. But only if it fits the audio, of course! And the red stuff on his face? Yeah, that's a nod to the Crane, his sacred bird!

#epic the musical #fanart #greek mythology #apollo #hephaestus #character design

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1000sunnygo · 1 month

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Law's artist side isn't talked about enough, so here's a smooth brain ramble.

He prefers abstract arts over realism. Unlike Kid who forms animal or skull figures with metals, Law creates strange 'sculptures' with his victim's bodies/belongings:

And, of course, the tattoos.

I like how all of his tattoos accentuate the shapes of his torso and arms, especially the joints and muscles. Combined they look like a single stylized drawing of human upper torso.

Seen theories that the tribal style could be a lost trend from Flevance (as seen on the arm of a miner in his flashback), but it could just be his personal style. That said, his upper arm's heart tattoos look similar.

(Something that artists probably noticed long ago but I'm only noticing recently: Law's upper arm's tattoos have been simplified over time. There used to be two spiral-like protrusions, but Oda has been omitting them in later arts)

The "DEATH" tattoos have a straightforward message. According to the Law novel, these were his first tattoos.

Speaking of death, ghosts and spirituality have been implicitly a theme for Law, especially during Dressrosa. Doflamingo referred to Law as Cora's 'vengeful ghost'. Law's (cursed) sword Kikoku's name means 'wailings of a restless ghost". Ironically, Law having a hidden name was also a tradition that related to dead people.

The orange jolly roger (red in the sail) could be many things, I think it's a stylized way of drawing the sun.

Sun symbols are everywhere in the One Piece world. Law's lower arm tattoos are different types of 'suns'. Law might've subconsciously carried those symbols from his hometown for their aesthetic appeal.

The tattoos on the back of his hands reminded me of the church lady's cross, which is slightly different from the cross seen at Kuma's church. It's possible that various faiths in One Piece world are interconnected, leading to a prophecy about the sun god and Dawn. Law, at the very least, believes in the will of D and his own fate being tied to a purpose.

The chest tattoo, clearly a tribute to Corazon, could have some elements of catholicism. Kikoku also has crosses all over its sheath. Originally this wasn't my observation, but Law seeing Cora as a sacred being makes a lot of sense.

Carving a heart at the dead center of his chest by creating small wounds - the process itself reminds of Cora doesn't it

The custom-made Dressrosa coat is another tribute to Corazon, but IMHO he designed it specifically for Doflamingo, as a mockery.

A cross and circle like dangling a pistol target for Doflamingo's shooting practice, with a grinning face copied from Doflamingo's own jolly roger, but it's Corazon. Like his brother has returned to face his pistol again. A vengeful ghost indeed

And boy did it work...

Doflamingo shot it until the mark was completely drenched and unrecognizable.

Assuming he draws for all of his clothes himself, here's this masterpiece:

Or maybe it's gifted by his crew mates. Either way, it's adorable.

Since he's a surgeon (and a comic nerd), he should be skilled at drawing human anatomy. How does he draw realistic arts? Does he doodle while taking notes?

We've seen his handwriting in punk hazard arc and it wasn't particularly stylized. Regardless, it'd be nice to take a proper peek at his notebook.

#law's design appreciation #lmao this tag lives on #I miss Law man #if there's any different interpretation please feel free to share them!#one piece #one piece meta #one piece theory #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #mine

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unseededtoast · 2 months

Text

Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Part One

Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

a/n: trying out something new! I've wanted to make a series for a long time and finally decided to just do it. I hope you all enjoy and buckle up for the ride:)

Part Two

He can try all he wants to keep me from her, but I'm the only one who will have her in the end.

Unknown POV

Rain drizzles down from the evening sky and the streetlights illuminate the puddles forming on the sidewalk. My shoes are soaked from the walk here; I had hoped to arrive sooner, so that I could get a better seat, but once again work kept me too late.

Trying to brush off the inconvenience I walk into the bar and immediately find who I'm looking for. My heart starts racing and I feel blood rush to my face. The bar is busy, crowded, warm, and loud. Taking a seat at one of the only open spots I order a drink and glance over at the woman I came here for. I knew she'd be here.

Her smile is bright and inviting, her eyes sparkle with the shine of a thousand stars. Her hair looks incredibly soft and sleek under the dim lights. The way she laughs is music to my ears, and the way her clothes cling to her curves is like a work of sacred art.

I take a sip of the cold beer and let my eyes wander over her body. My hand starts to tremble; the sight of her is other-worldly but I can't help but to imagine what her skin would feel like under my fingertips.

Before I know it, my glass is empty and I feel the slight buzz coursing through my veins. But I think I need just one more before I can approach her. I order another quickly, my eyes not wanting to stray from her captivating form for even a second. She's laughing with her friends, and oh, how I long to be one of them. And soon I will be, if things go according to plan.

The song playing changes and some of her coworkers, who double as friends, drag her to the floor to dance, though there's not much room to do so. She moves her body to the rhythm effortlessly, and I can't believe how she makes everything look so natural and easy. The light shines and illuminates the sheer layer of sweat on her chest, it almost makes me choke on my drink.

She starts dancing on one of her friends who cheers her on and it brings a smile to my face. She deserves to let loose and be happy. After all, she works too hard and isn't appreciated enough. Not by her team at least, but I do. I appreciate her more than they ever could. And soon she'll know that as well.

Unfortunately I'm not the only one who seems to notice her beauty. I see several eyes on her body as she moves, and it makes my blood boil. They have no right to look at her in such a lustful way. They couldn't appreciate and savor all she has to offer like I could. No, they couldn't. It would be impossible.

Feeling the courage from the alcohol and the adrenaline from my rage, I set my glass down on the table and wipe my mouth. She's still dancing and I know this is my chance. I straighten out my clothes and fix my hair before I start walking over to her.

She hasn't spotted me moving through the crowd, and with each step closer my heart pounds heavier and heavier with excitement. I've waited for this moment for so long.

Pushing past other patrons my steps become quicker and more urgent. I just can't wait any longer. She's right in front of me, not even twenty feet away.

But just before I break into her line of sight my steps cease in an instant. As the song comes to an end I watch as she laughs and throws her arms around a tall, slender man, who looks down at her with a wide smile.

I grit my teeth as I watch his hands settle on her waist. I notice the way his fingers linger, the way he looks at her with infatuation. He gets to work with her all day long, and yet he steals my chance? He's had years to make a move and hasn't, but just as I'm about to talk to her he decides to put his arms around her body?

He leans down and says something in her ear which makes her nod. They go back to their table and he grabs his belongings as well as hers, and then they say goodbye to their friends, who wish them a good night.

From the shadows of the crowd I watch as he leaves with her tucked under his arm, and her leaning into him. I watch as he takes keys from her bag and leads her to a car parked in the lot. He opens the passenger door for her to get in, and shuts it for her before he takes up the driver's seat.

Now outside on the sidewalk, I see them drive off into the rainy night. My fists seem to have clenched themselves into tight fists, my nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in my palms.

As I walk home the scene keeps replaying itself in my head. The way his hands touched her, the way he leaned down and talked to her. How she accepted his invitation and left with him. How happy she looked to be leaving the bar with him, and how she allowed him to touch her. The image of his fingers on her waist seems to burn itself into the backs of my eyelids.

And I know this night will continue to haunt me for a long time. But I won't give up on her, I can't and I won't. Once she sees how devoted I am to her, she will have to choice but to choose me.

Even if I have to get some people out of my way, I know that she will be mine soon.

- - - - -

The sun breaks through the window curtains and the morning birds chirp their songs that flow through the crisp air. It's a warm morning, and you're thankful your boss gave you permission to come in later today.

Stretching your limbs, you take a deep breath and savor the moment of peace. You don't get many quiet moments these days and so you take extra care to enjoy them while they last.

After looking out of the window from your bed for a few minutes, you roll over and grab your phone, wanting to thank Spencer for bringing you home last night. Quite honestly you had a few too many drinks, more than you were planning. But you knew you could count on Spencer to get you home safely, he always does.

Spencer has been one of your closest friends for years. Having started at the BAU around the same time, it was only natural that you two stuck together. And thankfully you two clicked, like two pieces of a puzzle.

You send him a quick good morning message before getting out of bed. On a lazy morning like this, you decide to make yourself breakfast instead of hastily grabbing whatever is in the pantry like you usually do.

After you make yourself some waffles and sit down you notice a sticky note on the table next to your car keys. Taking it in your hand, you read Spencer's scrawled message,

"Made sure to lock your door on my way out. Oh and I took a cookie from the counter as a thank you"

You smile at his silliness and let the note rest beside your plate. Spencer's been over to your apartment more times than you can count, sometimes it feels like he's a part-time resident here. You've joked around and told him you're going to start charging him rent, to which he just smiled about.

Eventually the clock turns to the next hour and you know that your peaceful morning has come to an end. Lazily, you put your plate in the sink and go get ready for the day. You don't put a lot of effort into your outfit as you know today will be a paperwork day.

Walking into the bullpen you realize that you're the last one in. Everyone else is already getting to work on their reports but you decide to stall for just a little bit longer and take a detour to the break room for a cup of coffee. Not that you need it, but you really don't want to fill out paperwork, it's your least favorite part of the job.

You pour the hot coffee into your favorite mug and spoon some sugar in when Derek walks in with a smirk on his face. And not his usual good morning smile, no, this one is a devious smirk.

"What?" You question him, curious as to what he's up to. He crosses his arms as you sip on the too-hot coffee.

"Someone left you some pretty flowers on your desk, who's your loverboy?" He asks and you about choke on your coffee.

"Someone left flowers on my desk?" You ask, surprised. Nobody has ever brought you flowers before. Derek nods and looks back towards your desk.

"Looks like it." He says and the two of you walk out to your desk together, curious to know who left these for you.

Sure enough, there's a bouquet of pink roses sitting on your desk in a beautiful glass vase. And judging from the size of arrangement, these flowers cost a pretty penny. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you look for a card within the arrangement.

Hidden in the greenery is a small card and you pull it out carefully. Inside, your eyes read over the words a few times to try and make sense of who these could be from.

"Well, what does it say? Who is it from?" Derek impatiently asks. You show him the card and shrug,

"I have no idea." You answer as he reads the note aloud.

"Your brilliant mind deserves to be celebrated, there will be more of these to come." His smirk turns downward and his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

As you and Derek think about who these could be from, Spencer walks back to his desk which is situated just across from yours. He notices the two of you before his eyes settle on the flowers.

"Who are those from?" He asks, looking between you and Derek. With a sigh, you show him the card as well.

"No idea." You tell him, and he reads the note a few times over as well before studying the flowers. He bites on his lower lip as he thinks, and you hope his infinite knowledge will come in handy.

"Pink roses historically symbolize adoration and appreciation." He says confidently. His clue offers little to no insight about who could've done this.

Had the flowers been delivered without a note, you could've brushed it off as a simple, yet unexpected, gift. But the vague note seems odd. Something about it just doesn't feel right, the wording reminds you of not only a promise, but perhaps a veiled threat.

But maybe you're just overreacting. After all, it's in your nature to jump to the worst conclusion. Considering what you deal with on a daily basis, it's like a reflex to assume the worst.

Trying to ease your mind, you place the flowers to the side of your desk. You still want to admire them, but you just want to forget the odd note that accompanied them. Derek walks back off to his desk and you know you've procrastinated long enough. The file is already on your desk, it's just waiting for you to fill it out.

Recalling the last mission easily, you fill out the paperwork quickly, hoping to be done with it soon. You hate paperwork and you wish Hotch would've accepted your bribe; he would do your paperwork and you would pick up his dry cleaning. He turned you down and told you to quit being so dramatic about a little bit of paperwork and advised you to not try to bribe another team member. You knew he meant Spencer, and you knew it would be obvious if Spencer started filling out your reports. His are always detailed, while yours are not.

The day drags on slowly and you take several breaks throughout the day. You like having downtime, but at the same time you hate it. You want to be using your mind for something useful, and in between cases there's a lull that drives you just a little bit mad.

For lunch, you and Spencer decide to try the new deli down the road. It's a nice enough day, so the two of you decide to walk there and enjoy the fresh air. And as you wait for the elevator, a maintenance crew begins unloading. You knew they had been replacing cameras in the lower levels, but didn't know they were going to be moving up here. There are several men with ladders, tool boxes, and cameras that cause a flurry of momentary chaos.

One of the men bumps into you and you apologize, feeling like you're in the way when in reality they're the ones disrupting the status quo. Eventually, they all disperse into the office space and begin working, allowing you and Spencer to leave.

-----

"What are you plans for the weekend?" You ask Spencer as you take a bite of your sandwich. With no case, you decide you might as well try to plan something. Something noncommittal enough that if a case does come in it's no big deal to cancel, but something to look forward to if you stay in the area all weekend. He swallows and shrugs his shoulders,

"I didn't really have any plans. I guess I might rearrange my bookshelves or something." He takes another bite, looking absolutely in love with his sandwich.

"As fun as that sounds, how about you come over and help me put up some curtains. I don't feel like getting the stepladder out. I'll pay you by making dinner." You say, knowing that he will more than likely accept. The two of you always end up spending some time together if you have a free weekend. Spencer takes a drink and looks as if he's deep in thought before sighing,

"You drive a hard bargain, I'll do it. Oh, and can you please make those brownies? The ones with the chocolate chips?" He asks, eyes lighting up at the thought of your brownies. The man has a sugar addiction and it's one that you always end up feeding into.

"But I just made you cookies." You say, remembering the one he took from the counter last night.

"Okay?" He asks as if you just made the most ridiculous statement he's ever heard. You wipe your hands on your napkin and shake your head,

"You know it wouldn't be the end of the world if you tried a vegetable once." You tease him. He feigns insult before throwing the argument right back at you,

"And it wouldn't be the end of the world if you made some brownies." He's got a humorous glint in his eye that you know you won't be able to resist. With a resigned sigh you finish your drink.

"I guess I could make some brownies." You give in, just like you always do. It's rare that you ever deny Spencer something, you've got a soft spot for him. If it were any of your other teammates you don't think you'd have an issue telling them no, but for Spencer, you always seem to crumble.

The two of you finish lunch quickly and get back to the office, hoping the others don't notice how you went over your allotted lunch hour. You and Spencer walk side by side, bumping into each other every few steps. His hair blows in the wind and it reminds you to ask him if he wants a haircut sometime this weekend.

When you get back to the office the camera installers are still there, some working right near your desk. And you take it as a sign to turn your report in to Hotch, who's hunched over his desk reading over someone else's report. He looks up as you walk in and thanks you for your report.

"Did you do it yourself?" He asks, but you can sense the humorous undertone, one that you don't usually get from Hotch. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you ensure to him that you're the only one who wrote the report. And right as you go to walk out, an idea comes to your mind.

"So, is there a way to see who sent those flowers? It's just, I don't know it just seems really weird to me." You tell him, knowing that your worries are safe with Hotch. His eyebrows furrow before he speaks.

"Well, I would say check the cameras but I don't know if the footage would be there, considering they're replacing them. Go check with Garcia." He says and you nod, thanking him as you leave.

You head to Garcia's office to find that she's looking at shoes online. It seems the downtime gets to her as well. But when she sees you walk in, her face lights up.

"To what do I owe the honor?" She overplays, causing you to smile.

"I'm hoping you could help me out." You say and go to take a seat beside her in front of her numerous monitors.

"Your wish is my command." She says with a smirk.

"So these flowers showed up at my desk this morning and I just want to see who dropped them off is all." You tell her, concealing your concerns. If you know Penelope, you know that if you show your worries then she will not stop until she finds an answer, and you don't want to inconvenience her like that.

She spins in her chair and starts typing, bringing up some camera footage. You intently watch as she starts scrubbing through the footage, looking for anything helpful. Her eye is better trained than yours though, and she's able to fly through the footage of each camera in record time. And then she goes back through again.

"Sorry, it looks like they were replacing the cameras in the lobby from six this morning to just before noon." She turns to look at you, and you do your best to hide your disappointment.

"That's okay, thank you." You say, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. You were hoping she would have a workaround for this, but if there were no cameras in place, there's nothing she can work with.

"Of course. Sorry I couldn't find anything." She says, but you can tell she's holding back from saying what she really wants to.

"What is it? I know that look." You ask, curious as to what is going on inside her mind.

"It's just odd. You receive flowers on the day the camera footage is unavailable. But, I'm sure it's just a really weird coincidence." She offers a strained smile and your insides feel like they're being twisted around.

"Yeah, probably just one of those things." You try to brush it off, but as you walk back to the bullpen the situation begins to bother you even more.

-----

The smell of brownies drifts around your apartment as you wait for Spencer to arrive. You had made sure to make the brownies for him, just as he requested. And though you're tired from work, you felt it was necessary to make sure you do this for him seeing as how he's going to be hanging your curtains for you.

A knock at the door startles you out of your trance and you move to let Spencer in. He's changed from his work clothes and has a grin on his face as he walks through the door.

"I thought I smelled brownies." He says as he takes his shoes off. Spencer wastes no time in making himself comfortable in your home seeing as how your apartment is basically his second home.

"I knew I'd never get my curtains up if I didn't make them." You call over to him as he sits on your couch. He smiles and watches you pull the pan out of the oven. The edges look crispy, the middle gooey, and you know it's likely he'll eat all of them before the night is over.

Seeing them on the counter, Spencer gets up and rushes into the kitchen, where you have to smack his hand away from the hot pan.

"Spencer you're supposed to be a genius, why are you reaching for a pan that just came out of the oven?" You block his view of the brownies, knowing that he's likely to try again just out of pure childlike stubbornness.

"They smell so good." He peeks around you, getting a glimpse of the brownies behind your back.

"They do, but let them cool a little." You press against his chest, making him walk back a few steps. He gives up and sighs,

"Fine. Where are the curtains? I'll just get those out of the way." He says and looks around. You go and retrieve the curtain rod and the curtains and set them on your couch.

From the couch you watch as he works, appreciating his willingness to help you out. You had wanted these to go up for a while now, but never got around to it. And after receiving the mystery flowers, you wanted to put them up so you feel more secure at home. The window is facing the street and you know it's relatively easy to see inside. It would make you feel better if you could put something between you and the outside.

Spencer's lithe form works effortlessly and you find your eyes wandering across the broadness of his shoulders. In the years you've worked together, you can tell how he's filled out more, and you'd be a liar if you said it didn't suit him. You had first noticed how his button-ups starting becoming tighter around his biceps, and then it was how his pants seemed to hug his thighs.

As he turns around to grab another part, you're quick to avert your eyes. You feel your cheeks start to burn and you realize he may have very well saw you checking him out. Which you shouldn't be, he's your best friend after all.

"There, that should do it." He says after a few more minutes of working.

You stand from the couch and walk to stand beside him, appreciating the way that the curtains look. Not only are they practical, but they make the apartment feel more like home.

"They look great, thank you." You smile up at him, meeting his eyes. He licks his lips and holds your gaze for just a moment longer before he looks back to the kitchen. You know exactly what's on his mind and you sigh, finally giving in to him, just like you always do.

Later, you and Spencer are on the couch, watching tv. You've got your back against the armrest, feet resting in Spencer's lap. He's intensely watching whatever movie he put on while your mind wanders elsewhere.

For some reason, you're just not able to shake off the flowers. Spencer's words echo in your mind, the ones telling you that the flowers stand for adoration. Then you think about how they showed up on the very day the cameras are being replaced. It all seems just a little too convenient for you. And in your line of work, you know better than to believe in coincidences.

"What's up?" Spencer pauses the movie and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrows raise and you feign ignorance.

"What do you mean?" You ask him. But you should know better. Spencer knows you like the back of his hand. He frowns and rests a hand on your leg.

"I can tell something's been bothering you tonight." He says and you keep your eyes trained on his hand. Biting the inside of your lip, you know he's got you pinned.

"It's nothing, I'm just being paranoid." You sigh and try to reach for the remote, but Spencer holds it out of your reach. He gives you a pointed look.

"I know it's not nothing, and you're not the paranoid type." He points out and for the moment you despise his eidetic memory.

"It's so stupid. It's just the thing with the flowers. You know Penelope couldn't find footage of who dropped them off because the cameras were being replaced?" You tell him, arching an eyebrow. He takes a moment to think, and then offers a solution, like he usually does.

"You can probably ask the front desk receptionist what she remembers." He says and you nod, knowing it's the only lead you have to work with.

"I'll do that Monday." You say and stand from the couch to close your new curtains, suddenly feeling too exposed.

As you go to close them, you think your eyes are playing tricks on you. You gasp and blink, but whatever you saw is gone. Spencer comes to stand beside you, looking out of the window.

"What is it?" You hear the concern in his voice. He must think you're going crazy. In fact, you think that you're going crazy. His arm finds its way over your shoulders and he tugs the curtains closed.

"I just thought I saw someone out there on the street. But there's nothing there." You say, voice sounding just slightly breathless. Spencer guides you away from the window and sits you back down on the couch. You can see his jaw is clenched and his eyebrows are drawn tightly together.

"Would it make you feel better if I stayed here tonight?" He asks, and you look over at him, breaking your gaze from the window.

"Spence, you don't have to stay here for my sake." You start to feel bad, you don't want him to pity you. He shakes his head.

"I don't mind at all." The sides of his mouth curl up into a smile, the same one that makes you melt.

"Only if you want to." You say, internally grateful he's willing to stay with you tonight.

-----

Unknown POV

I watch from the shadows as she pulls a pan out of the oven. Her apartment is lit up enough for me to be able to catch a glimpse of her beauty, and I watch with wide eyes every moment that's gifted to me. However, my excitement is dampened as I can't find the flowers anywhere. I was hoping she'd bring them home, so that a tiny piece of me could be there with her.

The moment is further tainted as soon as I see him step inside of her home. The same one from the bar. Anger courses through me as I watch them in the kitchen, as I see her move him with a hand on his chest. He shouldn't be able to feel her touch, he doesn't appreciate her the way I do.

Unable to move away I watch as he puts up some curtains for her. Thankfully they look sheer enough that it won't block all of my view. But still, they're more than I want. I've been able to keep an eye on her every night without them, and I hope they don't obscure my view too much.

My hands ball into tight fists as they sit on the couch with each other. He keeps looking over at her every few minutes, but it doesn't look like she notices. She looks distressed, there's a crease between her eyebrows. I should be there to put her worries at ease.

I readjust the binoculars to try and get an even closer look. But when I do, I see that they've moved. They're at the window and I see her look right at me. Quickly, I sidestep into the alleyway, where the darkness should hide me away. Hopefully she didn't see the glint of light off the binocular lenses.

Just before I leave, I see his hand on her shoulder, leading her away from the window. It's like he's purposefully keeping her from me. A smirk finds its way to my face and I'm bolstered with new resolve.

He can try all he wants to keep me from her, but I'm the only one who will have her in the end.

Part Two

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid series #mgg #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #bau team #spencer reid smut #spencer reid oneshot #spencer x reader #Spotify

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

Text

I Didn't Ask For This (part seven)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: Thanks to all the anons who gave me ideas for this! I love you all soo much. Also, the dress is not too scandalous (because girlie would have a heart attack if it were) but enough to make him drool😉

And, also, this one is mostly Nesta and reader's friendship and fluff, but there will be an angsty part soon where babygirl slaps babyboi so bear with me.

Edit: Okay yall, the thing I wrote above? It was before I started writing, and now, let me tell you, there is some angst and sadness too, near the end. I was actually planning for the parts from now on to be mostly fluffy, but this new story line is pretty good too, and filled with angst 😌 and who doesn't love some angst?

•○🌑○•

Y/n sat calmly on Nesta's bed, sipping tea as Nesta threw her clothes out from her wardrobe, searching for something she deemed suitable for the dinner date Y/n was going on with Azriel.

Y/n was going to wear one of her everyday dresses, but when Nesta was told about the dinner, she started panicking as if Y/n was going to a war.

When Y/n said as much, Nesta had flicked her hair back and said, 'there is not much difference between the two. You always take part in it to win.'

And of course, no one could argue with Nesta, so here they were.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Nesta came and plopped down next to Y/n, sighing. Y/n set aside her empty tea cup before turning to her.

"And? Did you find something that suited your preferences?" Nesta shook her head sadly before she sat up, excited once more.

"I can ask Mor for something."

"Nesta–"

Y/n didn't have a chance to speak before Nesta was running out of the room. Y/n shook her head and leaned back against the headboard, thinking of what would happen at the dinner.

Soon, Nesta had come back with a black fitted dress. It would have been okay if not for the thin straps that were holding it up and the neckline that concealed nothing.

"You want me to wear that? No. Not happening."

"Come on! It's a beautiful dress! Just for tonight. I won't force you to wear anything again."

Y/n contemplated for a moment before shrugging and taking the dress. When she had changed into it, Nesta forced her to sit in front of the vanity and started doing her hair. It was so elaborate that with every passing moment, Y/n's fear of whether she'd be able to undo it herself increased.

Only time would tell.

•○🌑○•

"Okay, so let's go over this again. If he tries to do something you don't like, what will you do?" Nesta stood next to Y/n, ticking things off on her fingers. She'd been at it long enough that Y/n wondered if she should just go to sleep and cancel the dinner with her husband.

"Nesta! We've been doing this for the past couple of hours! I get what you're trying to say!" When Nesta just stared at her, Y/n sighed. "I tell him I don't like it?"

"No! See, you say you understand what I'm saying, then get all the wrong answers!"

"Then what is the correct answer?"

"You kick him between the legs and run away–"

"Nesta, no–"

"Nesta yes. That's what you will do. Understand?" When Y/n nodded exasperatedly, Nesta continued. "Let's go over this again because you don't pay attention to me. Okay, so–"

Footsteps sounded and Azriel appeared. And, even though Y/n wasn't really excited or interested in going out with him, she still sent out a prayer of thanks to the Nother. Because the longer he took to come, the longer Nesta would go on and on about the subtle art of kicking males.

He suddenly stopped short, his eyes surveying Y/n from head to toe. His lips parted as he slowly looked up into her eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his neck and face flushed. He held a bouquet of flowers in his slack hand. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, which fit him in all the perfect ways, showing off his powerful and beautiful body.

Nesta suddenly snapped her fingers, effectively bringing out the couple from the daze they had been in.

Y/n looked away, blushing, as Azriel cleared his throat. He extended the bouquet to his wife, his face becoming redder as she took it. "For y–" He began, but Nesta cut him off.

"She knows it's for her, obviously."

Azriel blinked, taken aback, before nodding. "I think it'd be best if you–"

"You want me to keep that in your room? I doubt you'd be able to do much with those flowers in your hand." Nesta cut in again, not bothering to hide her glee. Y/n nodded slowly, her eyes jumping between the two in front of her as Nesta took the flowers from her. Azriel stared at a spot behind Y/n, his jaw hard.

"I think we should get–" As he began, Nesta spoke up again, to no ones surprise.

"It's getting late. You should leave–"

"Nesta." Azriel said in a dangerously soft voice, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "Don't you have something to do other than talk about kicking a male and interrupting people when they talk?"

Nesta stared at him, indifferent, her eyebrows raised. Y/n looked away, hiding her small smile behind her hand as she pretended to facepalm.

Finally, after the battle Azriel was engaged in ended–thank the cauldron– he stepped forward and held out his hands. Behind him, Y/n saw Nesta wink at her with a mischievous grin. Y/n smiled back, shaking her head an she took Azriel's hand and he pulled her closer.

They took off into the night air, his hands clutching her tight. The flight to the place he had decided was quiet.

As soon as they landed, he offered her his arm, which she eyed suspiciously before turning away. She could practically feel his embarrassment, self consciousness and awkwardness as he lowered the arm and led her to a table in the back.

From the looks of it, this place was expensive. From the numerous chandeliers and the seating to the cutlery and the finest details on the walls and the designs and the architecture, everything screamed expensive.

He pulled out a seat for her, but she walked to the other one and sat herself down. His face was red a he sat down opposite her. As they ordered their food, Azriel asked the waiter to not use peas as Y/n wasn't really fond of peas.

Y/n's eyes were slightly wide as she regarded Azriel. How did he know? When she said as much, he smiled and explained, "I remember you used to complain about how much you despised peas."

"My preferences could have changed." She pointed out.

His smile faltered. "I'm so sorry, I just assumed–"

"It's okay." She cut him off. "I still don't like them."

The dinner was mostly silent despite Azriel's continuous efforts. Whenever he said something, she just hummed or nodded. When he asked her something, she gave short one word answers.

She didn't want to talk to him, and even though she had agreed to have dinner with him, there had been no promises about talking to him. So she stayed quiet, focusing on the food and occasionally finding him staring at her outfit, his lips parted or him biting them. When he realised he was caught, he would return to his food, his face redder than before.

And, despite her initial resentment of the dress she was wearing, she didn't regret wearing it, if it meant she would get to see this flustered side of him.

Soon, they were done and leaving the restraunt when he spoke up.

"Would you like to take a walk and explore Velaris?" From the look in his eyes, he expected her to say yes. And she would've if she didn't hate him. But she did, and so she wanted to spend minimal time with him.

"No. I would like to go home."

"Oh– okay." He looked away for a moment before picking her up and leaping onto the air. While the ride to the restraunt has been comfortable, the ride back was anything but. It was so tense that a blunt knife could have cut through it.

When they landed on the balcony, she turned to walk away. The tension finally exploded. Or Azriel did. Same thing.

He caught her wrist and tugged her to him, her back against his front as his arm wrapped around her, just below her chest.

"What's the matter with you?" He murmured in her ear, his hot breath washing over her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She grunted, trying to get free.

"Is it Nesta? Did she tell you to ignore me?"

"Obviously not. Why would she–"

"Then why? Why have you been so cold towards me? Can't you see I'm trying to make this work? You're making it difficult to–"

"I'm just doing what we agreed to. You wanted to have dinner with me, I did. There was no mention of talking to you."

Finally, she managed to free herself from his suddenly slack hold, and when she turned to him, her chest heaving, she found him gaping at her.

"Are you serious?" He whispered, emotions swirling in his beautiful eyes.

Y/n looked away, knowing she was hurting him. But she couldn't help it. She couldn't hand her heart over so easily, knowing if she did, he would have the power over her, and she couldn't let anyone have that power, not so soon after having her first taste of freedom.

He started laughing, her head whipping to him. He took a step back, then another, turning as silver lined his eyes. He leaned on his palms that rested on the railings, shaking his head, grinning like a maniac. He was quiet for a few moments.

"If you don't want to give me a chance, then just say so. I'll leave you alone. Don't need to pretend–"

"I wasn't–"

"Don't. Fucking don't. I get it. You don't want to be with me. You don't even want to try. Just say the words and I'll leave you alone. Don't need to toy with my heart."

"And what of my heart, Azriel? What if you break my heart?"

"I won't! Why do you think everyone, I, have an obsession with breaking your heart? Why–"

"Because you have done it before Azriel! And I don't think I could handle another heartbreak–"

He whipped around, stepping into her, making her crane her head back to look at him. His head was bent to look at her, their noses nearly touching. "I apologised for that already! And I'm trying to right the wrongs! What else do I need to do to gain your trust? Will hurting me help? You know what? Here." He pulled out the only dagger that he had on him and wrapped her hand around the hilt. She tried to pull away, her eyes wide and her heart beating loudly. But his hold was firm as he put the dagger to his chest, his eyes blazing.

"Stab me. Hurt me. Kill me if that's what it takes for you to–" He didn't finish the sentence, his chest heaving. "Do it." She shook her head, her eyes prickling. He huffed and turned away again, leaning on the railing. "Leave, Y/n. And don't worry, I won't bother you again."

Y/n's chest caved at the emotion in his voice, which shook and broke on the last part. She didn't mean to hurt him, and she knew she should clarify why she couldn't trust him.

Her hand rose, shaking.

But just before she could place it on his tense shoulder, she stopped. Would it help? If she told him the reason, would it mend the wounds she had unknowingly inflicted? She didn't think it would.

So she curled her hand into a fist and let it drop back to her side, stepping back and turning away. She needed some time alone, both of them did. She'd talk to him tomorrow.

And as she walked away, she let the tears slip from her eyes.

But she didn't know that behind her, her husband also let the tears flow, his heart aching.

•○🌑○•

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Part 8

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