#do we think they know its on the wrong way

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned pt. 4

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: After realizing you are his mate. Azriel races back downstairs to tell the rest of the Inner Circle. Spoiler alert- they already knew.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, a very small bit of violence. Let me know if theres anything I missed! a/n: This is unedited, so we aren't talking about it.

Ageless and MDNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Masterlist Requests are open!!

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As the door to your room closed, Azriel found himself frozen in place. His heart was still racing. He can feel his soul reaching out to yours, calling for you to return. The one thing that he always wanted, more than anything in the whole world, was just beyond that door. Someone to call his. Someone to be his. To be someone’s. To have a place to belong. But that door was still in the way. And he could tear it off the hinges for its audacity to stand between you and him. He could rip the door open, watching as you looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. Stammering as you'd try to hide the shock and ask him what's wrong. Only for him to cross the room. Pull you in and kiss you like his very life depended on it. As if you were air, and he was gasping for it. Your love was the tide that pulled him under, all-consuming. But he didn't feel like he was drowning, no. Never. You were his light, his dark, his everything. His salvation. You were perfect. He felt the bond and knew there was someone at the other end of it. Someone who would feel it with time.

And that thought seemed to pull Azriel out of his less-than-sober state. Whatever the mating bond had done to his head had consumed him. Made him unable to think straight, unable to use any common sense- or any sense at all. He needed to step away, needed to stop smelling your scent. His shadows pull him back, gently urging him to give you space. Part of it makes him smile, that they were so eager to protect you. Part of him looks at the shadows and glares. "Traitors." He mumbles, before going down the stairs. His heart heavy as he takes every step. You were so unaware of his feelings. You always had been, you pushed away any feelings for him in favor of Elain. He watched you do it, heard you talking in hushed whispers to Feyre and Nesta about her wellbeing. You used to join them, but then you just…stopped. That's when Elain started flirting more. It broke his heart to see you back down so easily. Azriel knew you didn’t have any friends outside the Inner Circle…and he felt you watch from the windows. How he wanted to reach his hand out to you, share his time with you the way you shared it with your sister…

His footsteps for once are not muffled, nor does he want them to be. It didn't matter who saw him now, he'd let them know he was there to protect you. So, he allows himself to walk naturally, feeling the weight of everything finally. His footsteps heavier with each step. As Azriel enters the room he notices how the party has slowly stopped talking as he enters. His brothers looked the most concerned, slowly they both stood. Az notes the way their gaze moves about his body, checking for injury. Their shoulders are tense as well as if they’re on edge about something. What he didn’t know, so he raises an eyebrow at them. "Azriel?" Rhys's voice is soft, and gentle, as if he is trying to tame a beast.

"Is everything okay?" Cassian asks next. His voice doesn't share the same gentleness that Rhys's did. But for Cassian, that was gentle. Azriel looks at him, Cassian's hazel eyes shining with concern as he steps forward with Rhys.

Azriel doesn't know where the sudden concern is coming from. He tries his hardest to will his face into one of neutrality. "Yes? Everything is fine." He assures them before trying to sidestep them. Rhys and Cassian grab onto his arms to hold him in place. Azriel is just confused. He looks back at Rhys and Cassian. "What?" His voice laced with that very confusion.

"You’re shaking," Rhys answers. "Your hands are clenched. You look ready to snap." He steps back, Cassian doing the same. Azriel looks down, slowly unclenching his hands, realizing that his siphons are swirling with power as well. Looking back up the stairs to see his shadows swirling outside your door, keeping watch for him to ensure your safety. He looks back to Rhys blinking and suddenly- he gets it. He gets why Rhys fell into Mor's arms screaming and crying that Feyre was his mate—understanding all the decisions Rhys made just to ensure her safety. Seeing why Rhys believed in her under that mountain. Understanding why Cassian fought so hard to try and save Nesta from the Cauldron. He understood how the view of the world changed in just a matter of seconds, and…how it felt knowing that they both figured it out before their mates did. How did they do it? How did they deal with the crippling fear that they might reject them? How did keep smiling? How did they keep it from consuming him? Rhys looks back at Cassian, both of them taking another tentative step toward their brother.

"Az?" Cassian's smooth voice, calming voice- he talked to hurt soldiers like that. Azriel knew that voice. Was that what he was now? A soldier on the battlefield again? Did they see him as the scrawny little kid that showed up at camp? At that thought suddenly he broke.

The tears fall quickly, and blindly Azriel reaches out to grab Rhys's shoulder. He hadn't realized the pain he'd been keeping in his heart. He claws at his shirt; wishing that he didn't have one, to begin with. Rhys pulls him in, holding him tightly. “Woah…” Rhys whispers squeezing him tighter. “Woah, we’ve got you Az. You’re okay. We’ve got you…” Cassian rubs his back- and Azriel knows that they're exchanging glances behind his back. But he doesn't care. But what he doesn't expect to hear is Mor.

"Azriel?" Her voice is soft, full of concern. And he looks up from Rhys's shoulder. Looking at Mor with a tear-stained face, his eyes growing puffier by the second as more tears rolled down. She held her arms up for him. Azriel pushed Rhys away, all but running into Mor. Falling into her arms as he cries harder. Mor's embrace is warm, her skin is soft. She was always so warm, like a sunny spring day. She smelt like vanilla and whiskey. Threading her fingers through his hair, brushing out the curls gently as she started to rock him. "Shh, shh, we’ve got you. What happened? Can you tell us what's wrong?" Her voice is so gentle, soft, and caring in a way that only Mor could manage for him. Azriel realized she was being motherly. He reached for a comfort he'd barely known. A mother's embrace, or in Mor's case; a sister's embrace. Pulling away, Mor wipes his eyes. Nodding she looked up at him with her warm, chocolatey eyes.

"She's my mate." He croaks. It felt so good to get out. It felt good to tell someone, pride surging through him. To declare that you were his. He was yours. You were one. Mor's eyes widened, looking back at Amren, Feyre, and Nesta. "She's my mate, Mor. An-and she didn't feel it, now suddenly I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I'm drowning. I keep reaching for her but she’s not there. I-I’m panicking about her even though I knew she was right upstairs. Everything is racing. I'm in a free fall, my wings won't open and the ground is getting closer. Everything feels so-"

Nesta grabs Azriel's chin. Tilting his head up to look at her, and he expected to see an icy glare. Instead, he's met with an intense understanding. "You are not dying. You are okay. And you need to take a deep breath." She illustrates what she wants him to do by taking a deep breath herself. Azriel finds himself mimicking her actions, suddenly realizing what he had done. He wasn’t supposed to be weak. His tears were pointless, his pain didn’t matter. He stands straighter, clearing his throat. Looking down at the ground to avoid everyone else's gazes. Nesta continues, "You fucking Illyrian's love too hard." She scoffs, her tone laced with a playful amusement. Though there's also so much truth behind it. "Y/n will accept you as her mate soon enough. But you have to give her the space and opportunity to do so. But, for the record. I am very happy that she is your mate. And you better be good to her or I’ll make you suffer.”

“Nesta!” Feyre hisses, elbowing her sister as she scowls at her. But Azriel laughs, it’s short and quiet but it’s a genuine laugh. Everyone looks at him before he pulls both of them into hugs. Feyre squeaks, but holds onto him. Nesta stiffens but pats his back.

“Thank you…” He whispers, pulling away. Azriel shakes his head and sits on the armchair with a sigh. “I…don’t know what came over me.”

Rhys sits on one of the arms, clapping his brother in the back. “Love does strange things to people.”

“Especially in this family.” Amren rolls her eyes as she scans Azriel for any more signs of an emotional outburst. “But, I also know you haven’t cried in a long, long, time Azriel.” She gives the shadowsinger a pointed look.

Cassian sighs and plops next to Azriel’s other side. Ruffling his hair. “You had us worried there for a second. I thought she insulted you or something.” Cassian laughs, Azriel can’t help but smile.

“No…nothing like that.” He whispers.

Nesta goes to Cassian’s side. Immediately sliding under his arm and putting a hand on his chest as she leans into her mate's warmth. “How did it happen?” Nesta asks, her voice full of curiosity. Remembering her love of romance novels- it didn’t shock Azriel that she wanted to hear the details.

Feyre also made her way closer, sitting on the couch closer to Rhys. Tucking her legs under her as she nods excitedly. “Yes! Tell us all the details, it was my personal favorite, hearing Rhys confess.” She looks over at him and winks.

Azriel chuckles and shakes his head. “She seemed…sad.” He starts slowly, closing his eyes to recount. Picturing the way your eyes slowly faded into a blank stare. “So after she announced she was going to bed. I followed her, but I thought she knew. I ended up scaring her, and I felt this…this nagging part of my brain light up. Telling me to apologize over and over again. As if it didn’t like making that look appear on her face. So, I apologized. But, then she just started…laughing. It felt…different than all the other times. I saw this golden glow around her as if the sun had decided to come back up and only shine on her. And she put her hand on my arm-“ He smiles faintly as his fingers gently trace over the spot yours had been. “It felt…like I was seeing the sun for the first time.” His voice is softer than ever. “And she joked about her intentions with me and her laugh. It was…it was like I couldn’t breathe. She leaned into me, laughing so hard she was snorting, touching me and- and just being…happy. Being her. That was the moment. Looking down at her I knew. I wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of my days. I wanted to be the reason for that laugh. I wanted to pick her up, spin her around, and kiss her like a fish needs water…” He smiles to himself as he pictures you again.

“I’ve loved her for so long. But, but that was the moment I knew. I was going to be there for her no matter what. Her laugh is something I’d fight wars over.”

Nesta is grinning, tears brimming her eyes. “I haven’t heard her laugh like that since she met you.” And Azriel’s heart swells with pride again.

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The next morning as you enter for breakfast everyone’s eyes fall onto you. Blinking at them all you raise your hand to give a shy little wave. “Uh, good morning?”

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Feyre smiles, Nyx perched on her lap as she offers him a slice of banana. You simply nod at her as you go to take your seat.

Nyx pushes away Feyre’s hand and exclaims, “Titi! Titi!” His little warms going upwards as he bounces in his mother’s lap. You, Nesta, and Elain all exchange glances. Looking at each other in a standoff of who can get to Nyx first. You move first, quickly running around the side of the table that Nesta wasn’t on. But Nesta, the Valkyrie, is quicker. Vaulting over the table- much to Rhys’s chagrin.

“Nesta!” He huffs looking at his plate of food with her handprint in it. Elain sprints around the other side, holding her arms out.

In a split second, darkness enveloped the room. Once it dissipates Azriel stands in the corner holding Nyx up. High above his head as the toddler giggles with glee.“Hello Nyx.” He grins with a triumphant smile. Your legs suddenly feel weak as you look at him. Only Nyx got him to smile like that. You look over at your sisters who are all as gobsmacked as you.

Nesta moves in first, on a mission to get her nephew. “You are not a Titi. So I will take him, please.” She gives an overly sweet smile as she holds her arms out.

Azriel considers for a second, but Nyx is happily playing with one of his siphons on his shoulders. Gently tapping it and watching the magic flow through it. “No, I think he’s content.”

Nesta goes to argue, but Elain steps forward. “Azriel…” She bats her pretty long lashes up at him. “Can I please see him?” She also holds out her hands as she smiles at her nephew.

Nyx again doesn’t respond to her voice. Now trying to munch on the Siphon. “It seems he’s still content.” Azriel shrugs, taking a slice of banana off of Feyre’s plate to give him instead.

It was your turn now and you were determined to win. “Azzy…” Your voice makes him pause. Good, you think. You hold out your arms and bat your eyes at him too. Trying to be as pretty as Elain was. “Let me see my favorite nephew?”

Nesta scoffs, “He’s your only nephew.” You shoot her a glare and look back up at the spymaster.

“Pretty please Az?” You pout, using the little sister privilege you honed. An impenetrable puppy dog face. And much to your delight- and your sister’s annoyance- Azriel crumbles. Earning snickers from around the table, all of which he glares at. Delicately handing Nyx to you and quickly moving as far- far away from you as he can.

Nyx looks up at you and grins. “Titi!” Your eyes shine with brightness and you giggle as you kiss his cheek.

"That's right, Nyx. Titi, the best Titi of all time." You coo, wrinkling your nose at Nesta and Elain. Nesta flips you off as she sits next to Cassian with a huff. And you chuckle as he wraps a wing around her, petting her hair as he offers her a bite of toast. Which she grumpily takes. You smile and sit with Nyx, settling him on your lap as Feyre passes you his plate.

Polite, and not-so-polite conversation takes place. Laughter fills the room and you for once, feel peaceful. Looking around this room filled with so much love. It was- almost too much to bear. But it all comes crashing down as Rhys gets handed a golden envelope. Golden waves were etched into it, along with golden flowers. It caused the conversations to die down as Rhys opened it. You follow his eyes, scanning the page. Watching his eyebrow raise in amusement as he passes the paper to Feyre. "What is it?" Mor asks looking or trying to look over Rhys's shoulder. Cassian stretches as well to try and see what is going on. Feyre holds it closer to her chest as she glares lightly at him. You hold back a snicker as Azriel's shadows loom behind Feyre- also trying to peak.

"It's an invitation," Feyre says simply, nodding as she looks it over again. Suddenly you watch Azriel stiffen.

"From. Who?" He grits out. Your eyebrows knit together in concern. But he doesn't look at you, his golden gaze still focused on Feyre. You could swear that from across the room you saw his eyes get greener. Feyre looks over at him and sighs heavily.

"Tarquin and Tamlin. They're hosting a ball to try and find a wife- or their mate." Feyre explains handing the letter over to Cassian. He greedily takes it, and Nesta pulls it down so she can read it too. Their eyes widened.

"It says they're requesting all unmated females." Cassian looks up at Azriel- almost like they were having a secret conversation. You snatch the letter from Nesta so you can scan it over.

Gasping and biting your lip, you look over at Rhys and Feyre. "Does that mean I can go?" You ask giddily, barely able to keep your excitement in.

Rhys spares a glance at Azriel and then looks back at you. "Would you want too?" His voice is tight. The room falls silent as it waits for your response. But you nod quickly.

"Yes!" You nod quickly, "It's like the fairytales we've read!" She looks over at Azriel, who refuses to look at you. His plate is the only thing that has his interest. But his indifference doesn't sway you. Letting your attention turn back to Rhys and Feyre, "It would be good! Like a show of good faith to send a member of the Night Court! Besides that, I wouldn't go for Tamlin. Not after what he did to you-" You look at Feyre with a gentle smile. Rhys takes hold of her hand, his thumb gently running over her knuckles. "But, I could find my mate there! Or hell I'd even settle for a boyfriend." You try to joke to clear the awkward tension. But all it did was cause Azriel to stand abruptly and walk out. Standing back up you go to follow him, but Nesta takes your hand, shaking her head. Sitting back down as you look at the letter.

"…It would be fun," Feyre says quietly. "We could bring the whole Inner Circle. It gives Amren a reason to see Varian. And we can show Nyx to everyone. You have the shields Hellion taught you, so you can protect us. It would be fun, we should go." She nods determinedly as she looks at her husband. Their eyes glaze over as they speak to one another but you look back at the door Azriel just walked out of. His shadows lingered around as if reporting what Rhys said. He sighed heavily.

"I'll respond with all that are attending." You squeal and rush over to hug him, kissing his cheek.

"You're the best Rhys! Thank you!" And warmth comes back to the room as your sisters smile at you. Immediately bringing up how they plan to doll you up.

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Rhys's study door swings open as Azriel storms in. His siphons churning with power and the only thing that gives him pause is Feyre sitting on the desk in front of a chair. Rhys flanked her left, Cassian on her right. Amren and Mor are on Rhys's side. Nesta on Cassian's. Azriel glares at Rhys, "What is this."

Feyre points to the chair. "Sit." Azriel crosses his arms in a silent refusal. Feyre raises an eyebrow.

"Azriel we are not your enemy right now." She says gingerly. Trying a gentler approach, as if he would start crying again. His fists clench as he grinds his teeth.

"You are." He says simply. "You're letting her go."

"Azriel you know damn well that we give choices in this court." Rhys snaps, Feyre putting a hand on his chest. "I don't know why you suddenly think you can control her-"

"I know I can't control her." Azriel snaps at Rhysand. Their eyes meet and Azriel grits out, "But she is a mated female. And it is a slap in my face that you consider my mating bond so unimportant that what? Get another fucking Alliance? Like how you were gonna marry Nesta off to Eris."

"Azriel." Cassian snaps, standing to his full height. "You don't get to bring up my mate just because you're pissy." Nesta pulls him back. Her blue/grey eyes meet his as she steps forward. Cassian watched her like a hawk. But Nesta didn't balk.

"I was going to marry Eris because I didn't feel worthy of the love that Cassian was giving me. And the reason Rhysand wants us to go is so that y/n can be happy. Isn't that something you want for her Azriel? You know how we grew up, but did you know that y/n used to lay in our bed and ask me to tell her stories? She'd ask me about balls, what princes were like. She's dreamed of this. Finding her true love over there. So-" Nesta jabs Azriel's chest. "Suck it up."

Azriel's jaw tightened. And then, Rhysand spoke. "You won't be going." The room fell silent.

"What."

"Lucien got the same letter, he's requested that we not bring Elain. Elain is okay with that, they want to take this as an opportunity to get to know each other. You will be here to keep them safe and chaperone for Elain's comfort. You are silent, you are friends with Elain and it will give you time to sort out whatever is going on with your attitude." Rhysand tries to keep his voice even, and clear, end all be all. Azriel waited for the hypocrisy of the moment to hit him, but when it didn't.

"No," Azriel says simply. "No make someone else do it. I am not going to sit here while you cart her around. Pick someone else."

"That's not happening. She hasn't felt the bond yet Azriel. And trust me, I know how hard it is. But I let Feyre go-"

"She's not Feyre. She can't fight. She isn't your mate, she's mine and I have her best interest-"

"You have a possessive interest." Rhys snaps. "She is allowed to make choices."

Azriel looks at Rhysand with disdain. His nose wrinkles in anger and his shadows swirl around him. Siphons flicker as his temper grows. "I didn't say she wasn't." He tries to speak calmly. He was better than this. Azriel didn't need to lose his temper, he didn't even know where this was coming from. No doubt the mating bond, everything involving you made every inch of his skin feel too tight. Like he needed your touch to cool the boiling beneath it. He had normally kept his cool in the face of adversity, he didn't question Rhysand. But when you were in the fold? He couldn't stop it. The images of you coming home with your arms linked with Tarquin or- oh god- Tamlin? The images of how thin Feyre had been when she first arrived flashed in his mind. And then- you. You being that thin, in a gaudy and ugly wedding dress. Big, puffy sleeves and begging him down the bond to save you. "But I want to go with her."

Rhys looks at everyone and sighs. "Azriel. We all decided-"

"You decided? Decided that I wasn't allowed near her?" He growls.

"You all decided what to do with me." Nesta chimes in. Azriel turns to her with a fire in his eyes.

"We decided that because we didn't want to watch you drink yourself into your immortal grave. We wanted you to heal and the only way to get you to do anything, Nesta Archeron, is through spite. Telling you that you have to do something or you must. But even still we didn't separate you from Cassian." Azriel fumed. He had never been like this with anyone. So raw, so angry. Showing his baseline of emotions. He couldn't stop it, everything felt like it was about to boil over. So he looks back to Feyre. "Please. I am begging you, to let me go."

Feyre looks over at Rhys. Rhysand shakes his head. "No. Azriel it will look bad for you to claim her-"

It was a blur. Everything happened so fast. Azriel moved before he knew what he was doing. Everything in him screamed out, at the people whom he called family locking him away once again from something he wanted so badly. And he saw his Father and stepmother. Overseeing his visits with his Mother. Not letting him stay with her no matter how hard he begged. Keeping his wings bound to his back despite the need to fly. All he felt was that red-hot anger. His blood felt like it was scalding under the surface. His skin was simmering and he wasn't sure if he was actually smoking or if it was his shadows that curled around his forearms. His voice felt like there was a vice grip around it. Why?! Why was no one listening to him! Why didn't they understand? He didn't want to control you or tell you that you couldn't do something. He just wanted to be there. All he wanted to do was make sure that you were happy. He didn't want to play babysitter again to another set of mates. He just wanted to watch you shine.

He comes back into his own body to realize that he'd punched Rhysand. His black eye starting to form. Two strong hands were on his elbows as he was forced to sit. Cassian. They were Cassian's hands. Azriel calmed and eased into the chair. Rhys puts a hand to face blinking in shock. Looking at Azriel with one good eye. The room was silent. They could have heard a pin drop miles away. Azriel tried to open his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He hangs his head in shame, waiting for Rhysand to tell him to leave.

"Cauldron boil me." Rhysand laughs and kneels in front of Azriel. "You really think that?" He whispers looking at his brother with sincerity. "That all you are is a babysitter?" Azriel blinks and looks at him with wide eyes. "You said it all. Screamed it right into my head. Made me feel it." He gives him a gentle smile. "Az, that's not what I was trying to say." Rhys sighs heavily and shakes his head. "I didn't think you could handle it. That rage? I understand it. I felt it every day Under the Mountain, and every day when Feyre was with Tamlin. I don't want you to think I don't trust you. But I know it's hard to contain. Case in point-" He points to the black eye.

Azriel swallows thickly, still unable to voice his apology. ' I'm sorry Rhysand. I understand. I don't like it, feeling so angry. The bond just- amplified all of my emotions.' Rhys nods along to what Azriel speaks into his mind.

"It gets easier. For now," He sighs and shakes his head. "It might just be the better idea to bring you along. Being near her should help."

Azriel nods. Still looking down at the ground, and then he feels gentle arms wind around him. Nesta. "Thank you for being my friend." She whispers. Another set of arms wind around him. Feyre.

"Thank you for being our eyes and ears."

Another set of arms. Mor. "Thank you for always protecting me."

More arms. Cassian. "We are your family. And we never want you to feel like you don't matter."

Two more. Rhys. "I am the biggest hypocrite."

"Really." Amren's voice cuts through. But then there is a little scuffle as someone, most likely Mor, pulls Amren into the group hug. He hears her sigh. "…Thank you for punching Rhysand." The group laughs warmly. Maybe everything was going to be alright.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your arms squeeze Elain tightly. "I'm very excited for you!" You say warmly. "I think you'll be a happier woman when we come back." You wink at her. Elain scuffs and rolls her eyes, but her cheeks redden at the idea.

"Well, I hope you come back with so many stories that I would be jealous." She teases you as she pulls you back and makes you sit on a pink stool. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, she brushes your hair out and helps you put it half up, half down. Something pretty and yet elegant. Finishing she looks at you in the mirror. "You look beautiful."

You grin, shrugging. "Thanks, Elain." Not knowing how to respond. "Let us know how it's going?" You hold up a pinky to her, Elain rolls her eyes and links your pinkies.

"I will write the most boring and mundane letters just to shock you with the truth when you get back." She teases. You feigned hurt before you heard Rhysand call for you. You and your sister share a giddy smile and you rush down the stairs.

The whole Inner Circle stands there with various bags, the 'ball' would be taking place over a week. With dances each night, not all of which were deemed mandatory- only the first and last night were. But you were going to be staying in a newly rebuilt Spring Court. Feyre had been nervous at first, but Lucien helped ease her nerves. Assuring her that they wouldn't be near the Manor and that Tamlin had completely rebuilt. It was almost unrecognizable. But none of that mattered, you were going to be going to every ball you could, dancing the nights away, sleeping in, wearing all the beautiful dresses you could. You were ready to take this ball by storm.

Lucien looked up at Elain, bowing his head. Your sister halted, and you gave her a subtle push toward him. "You look well," Elain whispers.

"As do you." He smiles.

Leaving the two to talk. You look over at Azriel, you haven't talked to Azriel since that morning. And he wasn't at breakfast the next day. So you took this opportunity to cross the room to his side. He looks down at you, giving a small smile in greeting. You smile back, "Azriel." You speak softly, suddenly feeling bashful. You hadn't known why he suddenly stopped coming around you, but you knew that you wanted to remedy it. You wanted him closer to you, you wanted your friend back. "Are you excited?"

Azriel looks at you with a raised eyebrow, his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. "You do realize that you're asking the biggest introvert here if he's excited to go to a ball."

You pout, glaring at him. "…you can lie to me."

That gets a chuckle out of Azriel as he extends a hand to you. "Then I am thrilled to go spend this week somewhere I'm not comfortable." You elbow him as you take his hand.

"Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you step outside. Azriel lets his wings expand, quickly scooping you up into his arms. The others would Winnow to the house, but Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel wanted to fly. And so, Amren uncomfortably held Nyx. The toddler playing with her necklace as Mor got ready to Winnow. Rhysand scooped up Feyre, Cassian held Nesta, and… Azriel held you. Quickly shooting up into the air, a sound between a gasp and a squeal sounded from you. Holding onto Azriel tighter, you feel him hold you tighter before he leans into your ears.

"Just stay close by in case I need you." He answers. You blink up at him before smiling and nodding.

"I'll be right by your side." You promise. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: I personally hc that the mating bond can be really intense and amplify every emotion- even if it has nothing to do with your mate. So Azriel being so on edge, is just because that man needs a fucking hug. Anyways!! I hope y'all enjoyed!!

tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal l @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @bunnyred-blog1 @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #pro nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #elain x lucien

[honeyed-hedonist]

SFW:

Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness

Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate. 

Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways. 

Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways--whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.

Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length

Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.

Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.

Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.

Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”

Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.

NSFW under the cut 18+ NO MINORS.

NSFW:

Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top. 

Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”

Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.

A vocal lover--he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princesa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”

His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him--again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t. 

Big on marking you--with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.

Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel--when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah--you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”

Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)

To be continued…..

#miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #sipderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #smut writing #spiderverse imagine

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

So this is an ongoing argument with my roommate. I (22nb) am autistic, and T (55f) has ADHD.

Now to get this out of the way, i do say thank you. I was always taught to wait a moment after receiving something, take a bite or appreciate what you were given for a breath, before thanking someone so that you could add something more to it. My roommate and I both agree that i do say thank you the vast majority of the time, but the problem for her is that i do not say it fast enough.

T often gives me a "tHaNk yOu" while the item in question is still being passed. This seems ridiculous to me as i haven't even been fully given it yet.

In addition, i have the dishes as my household chore, and i do them daily, despite almost never making any dishes myself. I do this to both support T and her diet, as well as contribute to the household that i live in.

T thanks me near daily for doing the dishes. This always seems weird and unnecessary to me, as it is my responsibility. I have told her this. I dont expect to be thanked for doing my own laundry, after all. In return, T gets upset that i dont notice and thank her for taking out the garbage/recycling/compost, to which she is the main contributor to and is under her responsibilities.

As for please: i do say this much more rarely. I think it feels overly preformative and fake, and i typical choose more "would you mind closing my door for me" "if its not too much of a hassle, could you toss me my waterbottle" "id appreciate it if you could preheat the oven while you're in the kitchen"

I think that these work perfectly fine as a replacement. Please just has always felt wrong and fake. No one else in my entire life has ever commented on this before.

Thirdly; T has been upset that i don't respond to her apologies appropriately. After she is snappy at me (due to her emotional disregulation from ADHD) (last time it was because i asked if she was using the oven instead of asking if i could use the oven myself, for reference) there is a 50/50 shot that she will come and apologize.

I dont often accept apologies. Apologies are for the person saying them to get it off their chests, or to make you put it behind them. Usually, ill say something like "it was just one of those days, y'know?" Or "its alright, water under the bridge"

Because i was always taught that apologies came with a promise of change, and T can't (or won't) change how she re-directs her frustration at unrelated things to things ive done "wrong". When she told me the correct response was "i forgive you", i decided to not engage instead of telling her directly that i didnt forgive her (because i am certain she will do it again). (I usually dont engage with her when shes irritated: she never notices and just wants to say her piece so im not being rude here)

She said that i was being disrespectful, "like always", and when i suggested it may be more difficult for me due to my autism, she said that we made plenty of accommodations for me (which i think is false), and that i just needed to do this for her comfort. That please/thank yous were something she needed to feel appreciated and i should be making more accommodations for her.

To me, i feel like she is getting really caught up on semantics and is being a little controlling about it. But maybe its just a boundary? I dont know if i could commit to changing my language for her though, i feel like i will just start forgetting after awhile because it feels so fake. Shouldn't it be better for me to say things genuinely than just for her approval?

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

#aita #am i the asshole

[essektheylyss]

This was entirely tangential to this post from @utilitycaster which is why this is its own post, but the tags made me think about what feels most compelling about Liliana to me, and it's really because there's such an interesting approach to redemption in terms of the sunk cost fallacy to be had there.

There have been plenty of comparisons between Liliana and Essek, but I don't think they're really situations that can be compared. Essek had done one horrible thing (that was of relevence to the story; it is implied that he's taken other actions that he feels were wrong, but we don't know what those entail nor do the Nein care enough to ask, so per narrative convention, they do not matter for analysis) and was only still involved in it to the extent that he couldn't take it back, so to survive he had to continue covering his tracks. But he was also incentivized to otherwise act in alignment with the group that was not those on behalf of whom he had made terrible choices, because he was still living in the Dynasty, and as such wasn't actively perpetuating those actions beyond the cover up.

Liliana on the other hand is acting with the Vanguard and has been furthering if not personally committing atrocities on their behalf for a number of years, continuing to the present. Like Essek, she believes her involvement in the cause to be a difficult choice that was made for noble reasons, and now can't see a way out. But she is also relieved to be told to stay, though at the point that they discuss her leaving, she is alone and outside the immediate range of contact or oversight from the Vanguard. It seems reasonable that she could disappear with a decent headstart, and perhaps become untraceable quickly enough to be safe from anyone following. With this context, returning to the Vanguard with the intention of feeding information to the opposition feels like the riskier choice, but crucially it is the devil she knows.

I actually liken this more to Cassandra de Rolo than Essek. Cassandra was manipulated against her brother by the Briarwoods, but this was also spurred by having watched Percy seemingly leave her for dead. There are legitimate reasons why the Briarwoods, as the people who rescued her and then kept her alive for many years, are the easier option in which to place her trust. She knows what she's getting from that vantage point and how to handle it. She doesn't inherently have faith that someone she only knew as a young and helpless child, who ran from the hardships she's faced, would have the strength or willingness to do what she has found necessary for survival.

I think that Liliana's actions are more willful, not least because she was not a child nor in mortal peril when she joined the Vanguard, but she sees herself as having made difficult choices when only faced with difficult options, and I do think they have been difficult. She didn't want to leave her family; she doesn't want to hurt the young Ruidusborn under her care; she is probably genuinely sorry that innocent people were considered a necessary sacrifice for what she sees as the greater good. It is psychologically taxing to feel as though one is always picking between bad options, which is a significant contributing factor for why people buy into a sunk cost for so long. And over time, those hard decisions become easier, because you know what to expect from the outcome. Though Liliana is well aware that she might be killed for a misstep among the Vanguard, she already knows how to act to maintain their favor, but how she might be received on Exandria by those fighting the Vanguard, even with the Hells vouching for her, is anyone's guess.

This is a very real reason why people remain in cults and struggle to push back against this kind of conditioning: because the decision to leave feels more immediately perilous than the decision to stay. (On a certain level making these kinds of choices and actions habitual is a fundamental basis behind a lot of military conditioning.) And if you are acting in the interests of your own survival, but that survival comes at the cost of that of countless others who have not, in fact, made any threat or harm against you to begin with, then is the nature of your survival morally defensible?

This analysis isn't a question of whether Liliana will commit to her role as double agent and turn fully against the Vanguard, or even which one of these is a "better" story; this is about what the story might say if she doesn't. Yes, she might commit to a different path than the one she's on and make an effort to redeem herself, but it is also a perfectly coherent and interesting story if she doesn't.

#sometimes it really feels like people just. pick a character name out of a hat #and then decide that that character must get what the person feels they deserve regardless of the rest of the existing text #instead of like... considering the text for the story that has already been told and what it might still say from that vantage point #cr meta #liliana temult #essek thelyss #cassandra de rolo #critical role #anyway do not know admittedly how coherent this is but I gotta finish up my work day so I'm posting it. yolo

[violet-moonstone]

saw a post shitting on people for liking female characters in asoiaf and hotd who were wronged and did not/were unable to fight back and "simply" didnt fight for a better life

like yeah its so simple to undo centuries of patriarchy. it's not like the female characters who did fight back weren't in constant danger because of all the forces working against them

there was also an implication that enjoying these characters somehow shows our own passivity and adherence to patriarchal values

(oh and apparently we hate strong women too. because as you know, only two types of women exist, and you can only like one of them)

turns out you can understand someone's entire ideology and psychological state based on which asoaif characters they like?

i don't think it's wrong for fans to feel a sense of kinship with tragic characters, especially if said fans feel trapped or have felt trapped by their circumstances irl (especially if they feel trapped because of conservative ideologies, like their favourite characters are)

yes it's good to have independent and strong characters to look up to. and it's important to advocate for yourself and make difficult decisions in life

but no one can be the hero of their own story all the time

sometimes you don't feel strong or brave and sometimes shit hurts and sometimes there's nothing you can do about it in the moment (or at all). and in those cases it's nice to have characters to relate to

just like it's nice to have sad music to listen to when you feel like crap. it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you

some women unfortunately are victims, and having empathy for them or even seeing yourself in them doesn't make you weak

edit: it's also very telling that the assumption here is that our interest comes from valuing passivity...what about anger and indignation at the way these women were treated? what about imagining better endings for them where they do get a better life? we aren't the ones who think so little of these characters that all we can imagine them good for is pity.

#laena targaryen #sansa stark #elia martell #asoiaf #helaena targaryen #alicent hightower #Hotd

[nightsmarish]

Summary: you find a dog and Sirius isn't so sure about keeping it

Poly!wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x reader) | 1.2k

Tw: mentions of vet, reader think Sirius might be mad they brought a dog home, talk abt shitty weather, Sirius sitting on readers lap, reader oogaling Sirius' thighs

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ Remus sits in the arm chair in the living room, book open but he's mostly zoned out. Sleep has been evading him like Sirius evades dishes. And it's likely that knowing that you're not home yet from your late shift has been making him anxious, normally Sirius would be up with him, waiting for you, but Sirius has been utterly exhausted lately, so he doesn’t blame him for being able to sleep. 

The door unlocking breaks whatever trance Remus was in, hearing you try and be quiet while you shut it and toe off your shoes. Remus stands up, placing a bookmark to mark his place as he makes his way to the entryway.

“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and warm. You face him, face lighting up despite your exhausted features.

“Hey Rem.” You're holding your jacket in your arms, smiling guiltily.

“....what do you have there?” 

“Listen- you- Sirius might be upset. So just, keep this between us? For tonight?” You rush out your words, having practiced how you would explain yourself on the way home. 

“Show me what you have and then we can talk.” His lips quirk up in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You hesitate for a moment before moving your coat. Remus walks closer to look into the little nest you made, where he sees a small ball of fluff.

“Merlin…” Remus mumbles as he follows you to the kitchen in your shared townhouse. 

“I found him outside of work, I couldn’t just leave him.” slowly the small puppy onto the counter, making sure its still asleep before going to the fridge to find something for the little thing to eat. 

You're not wrong for bringing the puppy home, and Remus knows that. It's been freezing out and raining heavily for days, he can’t imagine how pitiful the puppy must have been outside. 

“I’ll- I'll take him to the vet tomorrow. Or find one open tonight. I swear, and we can all decide what to do from there.” You pull out some of the fancy lunch meat Sirius had bought for the sandwiches Remus has been taking to lunch this week, taking a slice and ripping it up on a small paper plate.

“Dove… I think we should wake up Pad.” Remus is slightly cautious despite it being his idea, knowing Sirius has always been a bit wary about the idea of getting a dog because he is a dog. Metaphorically and literally. 

You're filling up a small bowl with water, “I know, we should. I just- i don’t know. He's had a really long week and he's tired, and I don’t want to make it more exhausting because I brought home a dog.” 

“I know, but if he comes down for a class of water and you're hunched over a dog, he's gonna be half asleep and likely freak out a bit.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll go wake him up. Can you see if he wants to eat or drink anything? Please?” You start making your way out the kitchen when you hear Remus confirm he can. 

Walking up the stairs, the door is cracked open to the bedroom, the light moon filtering in through the drapes and onto the bed. The bed where Sirius is dead asleep, hair messy, and shirt ridden up. You sit on the bed, gently brushing the hair out of his face.

“Siri? Baby?” Sirius stirs, groaning and reaching for your body, trying to trap you in bed with him. “Baby- Sirius we have a dog.” 

The laziness in his motions immediately stops, opening his eyes with furrowed brows and sits up. “What?”

“I found a dog, he's down stairs. I think I’m gonna find a 24 hour animal hospital to take him to.” You fidget with the hair tie on your wrist, not looking at his reaction. 

“Where did you find a sodding dog? In this weather?” Sirius rolls out of bed, standing in front of you, rather distracting in his boxers and concert shirt that you're pretty sure is yours. 

“Outside, near my work.” You shamelessly stare at his thighs, littered with a few tattoos that are a stark contrast to his pale skin. 

“And you brought it home?” 

“Yep, he's downstairs, wanna meet him?”

And Sirius does meet him, the little ball of white and brown fur. Even he had to admit the little thing was adorable (he thinks he's cuter but that wasn’t the conversation at the time). Both the boys accompany you to the 24 hour animal hospital you found. 

The puppy is rather healthy, a little under fed, and still shivering like a leaf. But caring for him back to help wouldn’t be too challenging. The next few days, the puppy remains in your home.

ᯓ★

“I wanna keep him.” You break the calm atmosphere of the house, Remus mixing batter for muffins, while Sirius sits on the counter and ‘helps’ while his record player softly plays in the background. 

“The dog?” Sirius whips his head back, Remus glancing over as well while he continues to mix. 

“No, I wanna keep james. Yes, the sodding dog.” Said dog, is sitting on your stomach while you lay back on the couch, watching oogaling Remus work. 

“I mean, I’m not opposed  to it.” Remus speaks up before Sirius can make a snide, and likely inappropriate response including James and him being called puppy. 

"I don't know..." Sirius glares, albeit softly, at the puppy, "I don't want dog fur on my clothes. And we don't know what breed he even is, he could grow to be huge. Like, part Tibetan Mastiff or something."

You hold the puppy's little face, pointing him to face Sirius, "but look at this little face! Cm'on baby, he's so cute!"

Sirius looks at the puppy, sleepily nuzzling closer to your hands, allowing you to do with him as you wish.

Remus watches Sirius' resolve dissolve quickly, "merlin... fine, we can keep him. But we should get him a DNA test. And neutered. And I still want to lay on you as padfoot, I get veto."

Remus smiles, pouring the batter into the muffin tin, “We should name him then, he deserves to be called more than the dog.”

“Padfoot jr?” 

Sirius looks at you like you've shot his mother, if this was a magical alternate universe where she was lovely. “No”

His reaction makes you laugh, disturbing the puppy, so he gets up and hops off the couch to go find somewhere else. Having gained a lot more comfort in this environment than his first day there. “You don’t want him to be your legacy?”

Sirius hops off the counter, walking to where you're laid back, moving on you to straddle your lap. “I am my own legacy, darling.”

Both you smile at each other, your hands moving up to hold onto his hips. Remus puts the tin in the oven and sets the timer, glancing at the record player, playing Cherry Bomb before joining you two. “What about Cherry?”

Both of you glance at him, “Like the song by The Runaways?” Sirius asks, smiling at the idea. 

“That’d be cute!” you sit up, only part way so he doesn’t fall off your lap. 

“With that logic, we should just name him Queen, if we are going off iconic songs.” 

“Yeah, but Queen isn’t a song, it's a band.” You sit up the rest of the way, taking Sirius with you. 

“Killer Queen is a song.” Remus points out.

“I like Cherry.” you hum, as Sirius dips down to kiss you.

#poly!marauders imagine #poly wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar x y/n #poly!wolfstar imagine #poly!wolfstar oneshot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x remus lupin #Sirius black oneshot #Sirius black imagine

[slyandthefamilybook]

I know we all like to joke about tzfardei'a like "how can frogs be a plague? it's just a bunch of frogs!" But I think we're going about it the wrong way. So imagine, if you will, this:

You're at home when you find a frog. It's sitting in your living room. That's not so bad. You might even make a TikTok about it. What a silly little guy! But eventually it has to go, right? You don't want a pet frog. So you hold out your hand and the frog hops on and you take it outside. You stand up, go inside, close the door, turn around, and there's a frog.

Okay, that's weird. It must have just jumped through your legs when you stood up. But no worries. You hold out your hand and the frog hops on and you take it outside. You stand up, go inside, close the door, turn around.

There are two frogs.

Okay that's definitely weird. This time you don't try to pick them up. You just use your hands to gently push them out the door. You stand up, go inside, close the door, turn around, aaaaaand one of the frogs had peed on your floor. Great.

You go into the kitchen and open the cabinet under the sink. You reach in and pull out a cleaning spray. Sitting on the nozzle is another frog. Okay, what is going on?

You take the spray bottle outside and gently encourage the frog off. You stand up, go inside, close the door, turn around, and there's another frog. It's standing in the puddle of piss. It croaks at you. Okay, this is fine, you're fine. It's just a frog. You gently but firmly push the frog outside. You stand up, go inside—

There's seven frogs.

In frustration you spray the cleaning spray at one of the frogs. You didn't think it was that much, but the frog's eyes bulge and it croaks and hops around in circles. You watch, horrified, as it lands on its back and its legs stretch out and then it stops moving. The other frogs stare at you in silent judgment. Another one pees on your floor. You gently tap the overturned frog with the toe of your boot. It doesn't move, and it's starting to smell. You reach down and touch one of its feet. It doesn't respond. You go back to your kitchen and get your broom. You start to shoo the frogs out of the door. You get them all out. You close the door and, perhaps irrationally, lock it. You return the broom to the kitchen. There's a frog clinging to the handle. You shout and shake the broom and the frog flies off. It hits the floor with a wet thud and does not move. You pick the dead thing up by a foot and drop it in the trash can. It lands on 10 more frogs, sitting at the bottom, all peeing.

You go to your room and slam the door. Behind you you hear a croak. You turn, very very slowly, and look at your room. Every surface has at least one frog. They all just sit there, staring at you, peeing on your belongings. Several of them, implausibly, are already dead. Their overturned bodies create a stench you wonder how you could have missed. You don't even know what to do with this many frogs. Where do you begin? You go to the bathroom. There are frogs in your toilet. You spitefully go to flush it, but there's a frog clinging to the lever. You try to wash your face in the sink, but it's full of frogs. You leave the bathroom and feel something soft and small crunch beneath your foot...

Everything seems to freeze and you sense dozens of pairs of baleful black eyes turn toward you......

You feel something brush the back of your neck and you swat at it, but your hand meets empty air. You feel something wet and you look down at your hand to see a frog sticking to it, peeing. You shake it off and it lands on the floor, already dead. You trample several more frogs as you sprint to the kitchen. You throw open the fridge, crushing the frog on the handle against the wall, and pull out a brewski. You pop open the cap and raise the bottle. There's a frog already inside your brewski. You throw the bottle down and it shatters, sending tens of tiny frogs scattering every which way. You feel something on the back of your neck again, and again you swat and again hit nothing but air, but this time it's because the frog has already made it down your shirt. You shriek and shout and twist about and a frog jumps inside your mouth. It's one of the tiny ones, and when you talk about this with your therapist later you won't feel confident that you didn't swallow it.

The frogs are everywhere now. Your house is more frog than house. Your kitchen is more frog than kitchen. There are frogs on your fresh fruit, and frogs in your sink and frogs in your sourdough starter. Frogs stick to the ceiling and jump inside the extractor fan above the stove where they make a horrible slicing noise. This can't be happening. There aren't this many frogs in the world, probably! You hear a click and turn, horrified, to see your oven preheating. It's set to 700°. Does your oven even go that high? Inside there are crisp frogs, and frogs waiting to crisp. The smell is unbearable.

You wade through a sea of frogs: frogs piled up on top of other frogs, all shapes and sizes and colors and all peeing and dying and smelling. You burst through your front door and take a deep breath of the fresh, clean air. What you see makes your head spin.

A mass of frogs in the approximate shape of your car sits where you're pretty sure your car used to be. A thing that looks like a dog but made of frogs runs past, screaming. Your neighbor's house writhes under a coat of green and red and yellow. You don't even want to imagine what your neighbor looks like. Frogs inundate your herb garden. They're eating all your herbs. You feel them creeping up your shins, but you can no longer move. You fall to your knees, squashing more frogs as you do. The frogs are all croaking. It's so loud it makes your ears bleed. Their voices all blend together, becoming a persistant hum. And oh g-d. You think you can hear words.

#atlas entry #cosmic frog horror. frogror if you will #passover #pesach #the prince of egypt #plague of frogs #ten plagues #פסח #jew #Jewish #judaism #jumblr

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #smut #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[thorraborinn]

hello there! today i came across a claim that sort of baffled me. someone said that they believed the historical norse heathens viewed their own myths literally. i was under the impression that the vast majority of sources we have are christian sources, so it seems pretty hard to back that up. is there any actual basis for this claim? thanks in advance for your time!

Sorry for the delay, I've been real busy lately and haven't been home much. Even after making you wait I'm still going to give a copout answer.

I think the most basic actual answer is that it's doubtful that someone has a strong basis to make that claim, and the same would probably go for someone claiming they didn't take things literally. I think we just don't know, and most likely, it was mixed-up bits of both literal and non-literal belief, and which parts were literal and which parts weren't varied from person to person. We have no reason so suppose that there was any compulsion to believe things in any particular way.

About Christians being the interlocutors of a lot of mythology, this is really a whole separate question. On one hand there's the question of whether they took their myths literally, and on the other is entirely different question about whether or not we can know what those myths were. Source criticism in Norse mythology is a pretty complicated topic but the academic consensus is definitely that there are things we can know for sure about Norse myth, and a lot more that we can make arguments for. For instance the myth of Thor fishing for Miðgarðsormr is attested many times, not only by Snorri but by pagan skálds and in art. Myths of the Pagan North by Christopher Abram is a good work about source criticism in Norse mythology.

Though this raises another point, because the myth of Thor fishing is not always the same. Just like how we have a myth of Thor's hammer being made by dwarves, and a reference to a different myth where it came out of the sea. Most likely, medieval Norse people were encountering contradictory information in different performances of myth all the time. So while that leaves room for at least some literal belief, it couldn't be a rigid, all-encompassing systematic treatment of all myth as literal. We have good reason to believe they changed myths on purpose and that it wasn't just memory errors.

I know you're really asking whether this one person has any grounds for their statement, and I've already answered that I don't think they do. But this is an interesting thought so I'm going to keep poking at it. I'm not sure that I'm really prepared to discuss this properly, but my feeling is that this is somehow the wrong question. I don't know how to explain this with reference to myth, so I'm going to make a digression, and hope that you get the vibe of what I'm getting at by analogy. Edward Burnett Tylor (1832–1917) described animism in terms of beliefs, "belief in spiritual beings," i.e. a belief that everything (or at least many things) has a soul or spirit. But this is entirely contradicted by later anthropology. Here's an except from Pantheologies by Mary Jane Rubenstein, p. 93:

their animacy is not a matter of belief but rather of relation; to affirm that this tree, that river, or the-bear-looking-at-me is a person is to affirm its capacity to interact with me—and mine with it. As Tim Ingold phrases the matter, “we are dealing here not with a way of believing about the world, but with a condition of living in it.”

In other words, "belief" doesn't even really play into it, whether or not you "believe" in the bear staring you down is nonsensical, and if you can be in relation with a tree then the same goes for that relationality; "believing" in it is totally irrelevant or at least secondary. Myths are of course very different and we can't do a direct comparison here, but I have a feeling that the discussion of literal versus nonliteral would be just as secondary to whatever kind of value the myths had.

One last thing I want to point out is that they obviously had the capacity to interpret things through allegory and metaphor because they did that frequently. This is most obvious in dream interpretations in the sagas. Those dreams usually convey true, prophetic information, but it has to be interpreted by wise people who are skilled at symbolic interpretation. I they ever did this with myths, I'm not aware of any trace they left of that, but we can at least be sure that there was nothing about the medieval Norse mind that confined it to literalism.

For multiple reasons this is not an actual answer but it's basically obligatory to mention that some sagas, especially legendary or chivalric sagas, were referred to in Old Norse as lygisögur, literally 'lie-sagas' (though not pejoratively and probably best translated just as 'fictional sagas'). We know this mostly because Sverrir Sigurðsson was a big fan of lygisögur. But this comes from way too late a date to be useful for your question.

[batsbirdsandspeedstersohmy]

Some thoughts I have on cute story line/au

Wally and dick are dating took them forever to actually admit they got feeling for each other even if everyone else alrighty knew.

Wally is the flash berry is still alive and the flash. They kind of both are at the same time. No it's not confusing unless your arent from key stone or central city. If your from bludhaven you are to scared to ask due to seeing Nightwing and flash kissing. If your from anywhere else then you are probably confused.

Bruce gets lost in the time line

Dick unfortunately has to take up the mantle of Batman

Wally doesn't like that but support his boyfriend in any and everyway he can.

Dick moved back into the manner makes Damian Robin and works closely with him. Wally just about spends every night there even if he isn't living there technically. Since his name is on their old apartment and they don't fully want to lose it yet.

Dick and Damian become close. And thus Wally and Damian become close.

Damian starts seeing them as his parents. Calling them dad in different languages they don't know

Dick has an idea of what's Damian is doing. He knows his Damian even if they don't say it. Dick and wally refers to Damian as their kid.

Wally and Dick go to all meet the parents and Damian art shows and just every and anything they can. Damian will not say it but he is glad to have them there. He gets so upset if anything wrong happens cause he doesn't want them to think he not good enough anymore.

Wally and Dick get engaged Damian knew it was happening. He when with Dick to help pick out the rings. Well he when with Dick to help look at rings and get an idea of style. then waited as Wayne enterprises made something that would work for a speedster. He also inspected the ring very closely to make sure the people who made it didn't mess up.

Bruce comes back

Damian thinks he has to go back with Bruce and Wally and Dick won't want him anymore. Bruce of course thinks he is entitled to Damian. Wally and Dick are heart broken but think its best if Damian stays with Bruce.

Everyone but Bruce cry

Bruce is a bad parent and doesn't see Damian as anything but the killing machine he was trian to be and how he was right when he was dropping off at Bruce door step a few years ago.

Damian is the ring bearer for the wedding of course and hoes with them on wedding planning.

Alfred hates how Bruce is not showing love and how excited Damian is when Dick and wally come over. And how sad he gets as soon as they leave.

Alfred prints out adoption paperwork for what feels like the millionth time and instead of giving to Bruce puts in Dick pile of papers.

Wally and Dick almost cry when they find it and fill out what is their part. They take Damian out for ice cream. And ask Damian if he wants to be with them. Damian of course says yes and how their his dads and please don't leave him again.

They go back and start packing up stuff and go to the bat cave to get Bruce to sign the papers.

Bruce says no he will not and that they baby Damian and he needs to be watched carefully. Dick and Wally are going to get killed if they trust Damian so easily. And he will not let them take him.

Dick and wally are so upset dick gets mad. And yells at Bruce about how he been gone and Damian been hurt so much by him. Wally ends up being like Bruce you have 3 days otherwise we are taking this to court and taking our child back the hard way.

Damian doesnt understand why he can't go with them now. Wally unfortunately understands that it looks worse if they kidnap Damian by taking him now. They promised it only going to be a little bit and they get him very soon.

Damian spends the next three days packing up everything when he not busy. Alfred brings him boxes. Bruce tried to unpack things saying he not going anywhere. Alfred starts moving the boxes to a safe space that Bruce can't get to. But isn't Dick and Wally's place.

Bruce doesn't sign the papers

They go to court Dick and Wally get a lawyer for themselves and one for Damian. Bruce says it stupid for Damian to have his own one. And it's actually Dick and wally having two.

The judge ends up picking Damian a new lawyer and whoever wins have to pay for Damian's.

A lot of Damian's teachers are called in. Damian art teacher is one of the ones who help a lot. She brings up a project about their family tree and how Bruce and Talia are on there. But also Wally and Dick are on it. And Damian has put himself under them but arrows to Bruce and Talia with blood parents.

Talia ends up showing up. Which no one really knows how she knew what was happening. She says wants her son with Bruce that's why she drop him off at his place. (To train with the Batman)

I need to go to bed about 40 minute ago I'll come back and finish my thoughts

#damian wayne #dick grayson #batfamily #bruce wayne #birdflash #dick is damian dad

[crimsonstonetranslations]

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo volume 6.5 - Unexpressed Feelings

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo novel translation

Volume 6.5 — Unexpressed Feelings

(JP-EN Translation by @cleverwolfpoetry - Editing & Scans by Zel)

Haruka was on her way to the Movie Research Circle clubroom, her objective none other than to meet Yakumo. However, before she reached the clubroom, Yakumo’s figure caught her eye in an unexpected situation. Distressed by this fact, what would Haruka do...!? (file 02: “Message”), as well as an alternate version of the short story “Repayment”, which depicted the aftermath of the case included at the end of the third volume of the bunko, in a reader-only special edition. Two small episodes from a time when the distance between Yakumo and Haruka was still awkward.

-

file 01 - repayment

-

It had been a week since that case.

Haruka made her way towards the Movie Research Circle clubroom located in the building behind building B.

Not that there was any trouble to bring. However, today marked the end of all classes for the first semester, and the university was set to begin its summer break the following day. Besides that, she wanted to see Yakumo's sulky face.

“Hey–”

When Haruka opened the door, Yakumo was about to leave the room.

Suddenly finding herself face to face with him, she got flustered for no reason.

“What's up with you?” 

Yakumo said, yawning loudly.

“Are you going out?”

“Yeah. I've got some unfinished business from the last case.”

Yakumo was scratching his head as if it was really troublesome.  

“By the last case, is it Kamiyama-san's?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that case already closed?”

“Not yet. I have to return this.”

Yakumo raised the diary he’d been holding in his right hand, showing it to Haruka.

“Oh.”

— That is Rika-san's diary.

The one Haruka had borrowed from Rika's father. The sorrowful expression painted on that man’s face came back to her mind. At the same time, Haruka remembered the promise she had made to him.

‘I'm going to find out why Rika died—’ she had told him back then.

“I’m coming too,”  

Haruka declared, staring into Yakumo's eyes.

To tell the truth, she didn’t feel comfortable meeting Rika's father again. That man believed that his daughter hadn’t committed suicide. And yet, the truth was different. 

I don't know what to say to him when we meet. Any words of comfort would sound meaningless.

Even so, I must meet him — that was how she felt.

“Suit yourself,” said Yakumo, sighing exaggeratedly following a brief annoyance on his face.

* * *

Haruka took the train, got off at the station of the town where Rika's father lived, and walked beside Yakumo along the railway line.

She took a glance at Yakumo's profile, walking with no emotion showing on his face.

Back then, while she had hurt and crumbled apart, Yakumo had gently pulled Haruka's head to his chest.

At that moment, an array of emotions had mixed within her and without knowing why, she had buried her face in his chest and cried. Remembering it now, she suddenly felt embarrassed and blushed all the way to her ears.

“What's wrong?”

Being called out by Yakumo made her heart skip a beat.

“Nothing.”

“It’s fine that you like to eat, but you should be moderate about it.”

— What kind of misunderstanding could have led to that conclusion?

She had thought about saying something back, but there was no way she could say what she was really thinking, so she silently chased Yakumo's back as he swiftly walked.

When they reached the front of the apartment, a doubtful expression appeared on Yakumo’s face.

“What's wrong?”

Yakumo pressed the intercom without answering Haruka's question.

A moment later, Rika's father appeared from inside the house. He looked so exhausted that Haruka wondered if he was still alive.

Yakumo stared at him silently, as if observing him.

“Um…please, excuse me for the other day. I came to return the diary.”

Haruka spoke up with a tense expression.

The man silently entered the room, leaving the door open. She turned her eyes on Yakumo, unsure of what to do. Yakumo took off his shoes and went inside the house, as if this was perfectly normal.

— I wonder if this is okay.

Haruka followed Yakumo's lead, although still hesitant.

She entered the same tatami room as her last visit and sat down facing the old man across the Japanese floor table.

Yakumo entered the room, but instead of sitting down, he kept looking around. It was as if there was something there —

“Yakumo-kun. The diary.” Haruka urged, unable to bear it anymore.

“Yeah.”

Yakumo replied shortly and put the diary on the table.

The old man took the diary with both hands and placed it on his crossed legs like it was his own beloved child.

It was going to be painful, but now that she was involved in it, she had to tell him the truth about Rika's suicide.

“Um...about Rika-san...”

He shook his head, as if to stop Haruka’s words.

“I’ve already heard it.”

His voice sounded as if it was about to fade away at any moment.

“I see…”

“Yesterday, a detective called Gotou-san came to see me.”

— I see, so Gotou-san did.

“That detective said he was sorry and got down on his knees right here to apologise. But even if he did that, Rika won't come back …”

He said in a trembling voice, clawing at the tatami.

She understood Gotou's feelings so much that it hurt. That was the sort of man he was. He would carry everything on his back, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

But she also understood what Rika's father had said. No matter how much Gotou bowed down, it would be all too late.

“Your death will not bring Rika-san back.”

Yakumo said, turning his sharp gaze on him.

— What is he saying out of nowhere?

Contrary to Haruka's confusion, Rika's father looked up in surprise. His eyes were saying that Yakumo had hit the mark.

“I…”

“You intend to die.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In that case, let me ask you, why is the room window closed? And why is there duct tape on the window frame?”

“What I do is none of your business.”

Rika's father said indifferently.

“It doesn't work like that.”

Rika's father looked up in surprise at Yakumo's words.

“Because of you, there are spirits unable to rest in peace.”

“Because of me…”

Rika's father looked puzzled.

Yakumo nodded firmly and pointed to a corner of the room. Haruka couldn’t see anything, but such wasn’t the case for Yakumo. 

“Rika-san and your wife are watching you all the time.”

Yakumo said quietly after a short silence.

“What nonsense…”　

Rika's father turned his face away grimly.

“It isn’t nonsense. Yakumo-kun can see them,” 

Haruka said without thinking.

She glanced at Yakumo. Yakumo had noticed this and remained silent. Haruka arbitrarily interpreted it as an approval response and continued the conversation.

“It may be hard to believe, but Yakumo-kun can see the spirits of the dead.”

“You can see them?”

“Yes. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to uncover the truth behind the case.”

“Are Rika and Satoko really here?”

Rika's father looked around the room restlessly, to which Yakumo replied shortly, “Yes.”

“What are they saying?”

Rika's father asked, clinging to Yakumo.

“It's still too early…”

“Early?”

“Yes. You still have things to do.”

“Things to do…like what?"

“It's something only you can do."

Yakumo said, then narrowed his eyes.

After coming here, Yakumo's true intentions had finally become clear to Haruka. Thanks to their relationship so far, she had thought she knew more about Yakumo than other people. This expression—.

“I have lost my daughter, my wife, and my job. There’s nothing an old man like me can do…”

Rika's father bit his lower lip and hung his head weakly.

“Please, help those who are suffering the same way as Rika-san.”

Haruka pleaded with him.

“I couldn't help my daughter.”

“That's why, this time you can help her. That is something only you can do. And it's also what Rika-san and your wife want.”

Yakumo's tone was detached, but his eyes were full of kindness.

It reminded her of the words Yakumo had said before. Even beyond the pitch-black darkness, a small light could be seen. Perhaps, it was because darkness existed that light could shine.

“They won’t let me die so easily, will they? My wife and daughter are really strict on me …” Rika's father muttered, and let his tears fall onto the tatami mat drop by drop.

Yakumo waited for him to regain his composure before calling out, “Let's go.”

Haruka bowed repeatedly to Rika's father and left the apartment with Yakumo. 

On the road along the railway line, while heading towards the station, Haruka turned towards Yakumo's back and began to speak.

“Hey. You lied earlier, didn't you?”

“Don't go around saying disreputable things about people.”

Yakumo also stopped and scratched his head in annoyance.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I'm not playing dumb. His wife and his daughter Rika-san really were there.”

— Is that so?

She thought she had read the emotions from Yakumo's expression, yet had she been mistaken? But it didn't make any sense.

“Tell me the truth.”

“It's the truth. They both wouldn’t have wanted him to die.”

“Then—”

“However, I just didn't know how to persuade him.”

“There it is, I knew you were lying.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, you said…they want him to help people who are suffering the same way as Rika-san…”

“As expected, you're an idiot.” said Yakumo, interrupting Haruka's words.

“What do you mean by idiot!”

“The one who said that wasn’t me. It was you.”

“Ah–” She thought about what Yakumo had said. That was right. Yakumo had only said, ‘You still have things to do.’

It was Haruka herself who had said she wanted him to help others who experienced the same suffering.

“Well, even lying can be the means to an end. We both wanted him not to die, so all is good.”

Yakumo yawned as he walked away.

— Right. Whatever form they took, feelings have been understood, so that's good.

Haruka began to walk after Yakumo's back.

-

file 02 - message

-

The heat had been oppressive since morning.

Despite this, Haruka made her way to the Movie Research Circle clubroom, located in the building behind university building B.

She was going there to meet Saitou Yakumo.

But to her surprise, upon arriving at the courtyard, she spotted him there.

He was sitting on a bench at the base of an oak tree, eyes fixed on his feet.

Haruka was about to call out to him, but her movement stopped, as if she had been touched by something hot.

Next to him was a young woman.

She was about Haruka's age. She had long chestnut hair and her face was long, but she was a beautiful girl with clear cut features.

Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Her shoulders were shaking, and she looked angry.

— Who’s that girl?  What are they talking about?

Haruka would have wanted to know, but the air between them was so tense and unapproachable that she couldn't get any closer.

Then Yakumo looked up and said something.

But Haruka could not hear him.

The girl next to Yakumo looked surprised, then stood up, scrubbing her eyes hard with both hands.

Her posture was as rigid as a model's.

“You said you loved me ... you liar!”

Her cries made Haruka's heart clench.

—  Is this a love quarrel?

From the circumstances, it seemed that Yakumo had talked about breaking up with the girl. He hadn’t said a single word about this person.

Yakumo had no obligation to tell every single thing to Haruka, yet she felt somewhat betrayed.

Amidst Haruka’s confusion, the girl quickly walked away from Yakumo.

“Are you spying on me again?”

Yakumo raised his head and turned his gaze at Haruka.

At the sudden words, she jumped involuntarily.

Yakumo slowly walked over to Haruka, his face contorted as if he wanted to say, 'good grief'. 

This man is pretending to be calm while acting like he’s in a love drama and making a woman cry. That attitude made Haruka somewhat angry.

“Hey, that's just awful.”

Without knowing the circumstances, she protested to Yakumo.

No, I don't need to know the circumstances to understand. It’s obvious that it’s Yakumo's fault.

“It's not my fault.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I don't really care what you think. But you best go and look for her.”

“Why me?”

“You're partly to blame.”

“Me ...”

— Why should I be responsible for Yakumo breaking up with his lover?

“Yeah.”

“Hey, wait a moment!”

Ignoring Haruka’s voice calling out to him, Yakumo ran off quickly.

— What?! What the hell?

“I don't know anything.”

Haruka said to Yakumo's back, but it seemed irresponsible to leave things like that.

— Ugh, this is the worst.

Muttering in her head, Haruka started looking for the girl.

Since she had only seen her for a moment, she wasn't sure if she would be able to find her, but she entered Building B right away and searched the empty classrooms one by one, starting with the ground floor.

—You're partly to blame.

Yakumo's words played over and over in her head. What on earth did that mean?

— Did they break up because of me?

The moment she thought that, her face suddenly became hot.

— No, that’s not it. This must be from the summer heat.

While convincing herself, Haruka continued to search for the girl.

After looking in all the classrooms, she found herself in front of the door leading to the roof of Building B.

This was the place where she had been taken months ago, during the first case she had been involved in with Yakumo. If Yakumo hadn’t come to save her then, Haruka would be dead by now.

Thinking back on this, she opened the door.

There she saw the back of a girl.

Despite only seeing her from behind, there was no mistaking her long, shiny chestnut hair.

She had her arms crossed over the iron railing on the rooftop, her face resting on it, gazing at the cityscape stretching out below her eyes.

A warm breeze ruffled her chestnut hair.

— It's good that I found her, but what am I supposed to do now?

Lost in her thoughts, Haruka slowly walked towards the girl’s back.

“Um ...”

When Haruka called out to her, she turned around in surprise.

Her eyes swollen from crying were red, but she seemed to have regained some of her composure.

“… what is it?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed as if she was trying to get an answer out of Haruka.

“Yakumo-kun told me to come and find you …”

“...I see. I blurted out all of a sudden, didn't I? I've done something awful. He didn't do anything wrong ...”

She looked down in embarrassment and scratched her nose. It was a sad expression that made it even more painful for Haruka to watch.

“You should forget such a blunt person as soon as possible.”

Haruka said without thinking.

The girl looked surprised for a moment, but then she seemed to have guessed something and started laughing out loud.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No, it’s that you've got it completely wrong.”

The girl shrugged.

“Completely wrong?”

“Yes. Saitou-san was just passing me a message.”

“What?”

“The last message from him.”

“The last ...”

“Yes. My boyfriend has gone to a distant place …”

The girl narrowed her eyes and looked up at the sky, where the clouds were rising.

“Ah!”

Haruka unintentionally raised her voice.

It was only at that moment that the situation sank in for Haruka. Yakumo had only told her the words of her dead lover. 

Haruka, who had only overheard part of the conversation, seemed to have misunderstood terribly. Her body burned with embarrassment —

“That person ...”

The girl began to speak, leaning against the iron fence.

“He wants me to forget him and be happy. I can't do that. After all, I loved him ...”

Teardrops fell from the girl’s eyes.

I don't know the details of the situation, but I do know a little about how women feel. It's impossible to forget someone you’ve loved.

“That's true. Once you know, you can't forget, can you?”

Haruka said in a whisper.

“Right. I've made up my mind. I will be happy for that person. But, you see ...”

“But?”

“I'll never forget him!”

The girl cried out loudly to the sky.

It was a voice so overwhelmingly full of feelings. The sound of her voice struck a chord in Haruka's heart, and without realising it, she almost burst into tears.

“Ah, I feel better.” 

After a moment of silence, the girl said with a cheerful expression.

“I'm sure he heard it.”

There was no proof, but that was Haruka's honest impression.

“Thank you. Thank Saitou-san as well.” 

The girl said, walking away with firm steps.

* * *

After watching the girl leave, Haruka made her appearance in the Movie Research Circle clubroom, located in the prefabricated building behind Building B.

Yakumo was sitting in his usual chair, reading a book with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Did you find her?” 

Yakumo said, his eyes remaining fixated on the book.

What a decent attitude to have after you dropped everything on me.

“Yup.”

Haruka let out a sigh and sat down in the chair across Yakumo.

“So?”

Yakumo urged her to continue.

“ ‘I'll be happy for my lover,’ she said. And thank Yakumo-kun as well…”

“I see ...”

Yakumo seemed to have understood everything and nodded in agreement.

But there was still something that Haruka was not convinced of. In the courtyard, Yakumo had said, ‘You're partly to blame’.

At that time, I had a slight misunderstanding, and I did what I was told to look for the girl, but to be honest, I was not convinced.

“Hey, you said I was partly to blame, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Yakumo slammed the book shut and looked up.

“Why am I responsible for this?”

“When I was about to go after her, you strangely got it all wrong, and came on to me. That's why I couldn't go after her."

— What an absurd theory.

“In that case, I don't think you can blame me for the misunderstanding.”

“Why?”

“Because she said you loved her, and she said you were a liar ...”

“I didn’t say those things.”

“But ...”

“Did you think I had a lover?”

Yakumo narrowed his eyes.

It was a somewhat embarrassing question.

“If I asked you, would you tell me?”

“It depends.” 

Yakumo said vaguely and slowly got up from his seat.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“To the sea.”

“The sea?”

“The sea was the place where he died. I'll tell him what she said.”

— Oh, I see.

If you convey her words to him, he will be able to rest in peace, even though he has been wandering in this world.

“Hey, can I come too?”

“Suit yourself.”

Yakumo said carelessly and left the room. Haruka nodded vigorously and followed him. When they went outside, the sky was blue as far as the eye could see — .

#shinrei tantei yakumo #psychic detective yakumo #shinrei tantei yakumo translation #psychic detective yakumo translation #yakumo saitou #saitou yakumo #manabu kaminaga #my scans

[twinkrundgren]

i do like farcille as a concept but in dungeon meshi it feels less of a relationship and more of an obsession. falin isnt really a character, just an object to use or an object to desire, and while we learn much about her through her absence through the story, she's barely a character when shes alive. the scenes between her and marcille when she was first revived are amazing and sweet, but its gone all too quickly, almost giving us a taste of what falin meant to everyone, but by the end... shes just a bystander of her own life.

we dont know how she felt about being a chimera, the lengths marcille went towards reviving her, she didnt seem to care about much that had changed (like the massave change in party layout) while she was dead. her character to me almost seems like projections marcille had about her, rather than a person with her own thoughts and feelings. most of what we know about falin is through marcilles eyes, and while she loves falin, its a biased view that only shows one side of her personhood

hell, when she was first revived i thought something was wrong because she seemed dazed and apathetic, she was warm to marcille but otherwise did not seem very interested in anything else.

the ending felt very rushed and in a way it feels like dungeon meshi is a story about marcille not having to deal with her insecurities or her fear of death. she revives her girlfriend twice after things that anyone would have deemed an unwinnable situation, and its unclear whether marcille suddenly got over her overarching fear of having all her friends die long before she does or her wish of everyone living the same lifetime came true and stayed true.

either way, it feels like... because marcille got falin, that dungeon meshi needed to be about reviving falin, it neglects other themes the manga was about.

accepting death. accepting the differences in other races. both of those themes are kind of ruined by 1. falin being successfully revived TWICE after 2 doomed situations and 2. marcille either entirely getting over the racial disparity in lifetimes suddenly or getting her wish for everyone to live as long as her.

and both serve to give falin and marcille especially a happy ending. but i think it comes at a cost, of dungeon meshis own themes and falins character.

but yeah, its a happy gay couple ending, so its good right?

#dungeon meshi spoilers #dungeon meshi #rambles

[sitp-recs]

hi! please feel free to delete this! but i read through your rec list (and found some amazing fics, ty!!) but i was wondering if you had any recs for fics where harry is helped by draco after the war? like he’s struggling with PTSD and being a public figure and going through it emotionally and draco takes care of him and helps him and they become closer for it and harry learns he doesn’t always have to be this Savior he can just be Harry with Draco! thank you in advance and sorry to bother you!

Not a bother at all, anon! I definitely have some recs for you. Some are set in the immediate post-war, some are set years later but they all explore Harry struggling with war/childhood trauma, fame, loneliness and the unbearable weight of having to find your way when no one else is telling you what to do anymore. Such a relatable feeling tbh. I hope you enjoy these!

Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)

When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.

Holly and Hawthorn, Thistle and Thyme by bryoneybrynn (T, 31k)

After the war, Harry can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong with him and he has a terrible feeling he knows what that “something” might be. He has a terrible feeling Malfoy might know, too.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

Unseen by RenVeree (T, 47k)

Harry Potter finally has the chance to leave England and its expectations for The Chosen One behind for good. All he has to do is survive one Auror training conference overseas with Draco Sodding Malfoy.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

The Way Down by lettered (T, 65k)

Harry is overwhelmed by his own power and fame and angst, so he's become a hermit. Draco Malfoy is tired of the melodrama.

Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (E, 71k)

Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #Draco helps Harry heal his trauma

[aro-geo-turtle]

Relistening to the first Malevolent episode is fun because a lot of the exposition John gives Arthur is blatantly wrong.

Of course there's the "Arthur was the one to kill Parker" thing, which was a malicious lie meant to manipulate him into trusting him.

But then we've got the bit where John explains where he came from. He certainly got the multiverse thing spot on. But he claims that he started out in this or some similar timeline, then died and wound up in the Dark World. Then, in the Dark World, he was bound to the book and somehow the book made its way back to Earth and to Arthur.

But obviously we later learn that what really happened was the King getting split in two and John winding up on Earth in that basement, where he was bound into the book/the Dark World (perhaps the book just sends people to the Dark World? we still don't really know how it works).

I think the best explanation for this is that John was just trying to patch together his splintered impressions and memory pieces into a cohesive narrative and getting some bits in the wrong order, considering he was still trying to hide his amnesia from Arthur.

But it still brings into question how much we can believe what John says about the Dark World. In part 1 he's very clear about it being the only afterlife out there, saying "all of these worlds have one, singular, exit." But later on (I don't remember when but it definitely happened) he says that he doesn't know if everyone goes there when they die or just a certain kind of being (like him).

We know that he was there when he was trapped in the book, and that the King had the power to casually toss him back there, and then (presumably) Kayne tossed the King in there himself to produce a terrified and amnesiac Yellow. We know that it's horrible and chaotic and really really sucks and time doesn't exist there.

But it could be one of many afterlives, we have no idea if Parker, Faroe, Bella, ect. are actually there. Hell, how do we know it's an afterlife at all??? Maybe its just the place a lot of bound, imprisoned, and discarded beings wind up in. I'll bet getting chopped in half felt a hell of a lot like dying.

anyways its an absolute power move to start your lore-heavy cosmic horror podcast with a bunch of exposition only to prove that the character giving it is amnesiac and has no clue what he's talking about

#malevolent #malevolent spoilers

[ldrfanatic]

speak nowww

Slytherin Boys as Speak Now Songs

*in perspective of their relationship with you AND their personality. and why*

here's speak now (tv ofc), 1989 is on the way; which taylor swift album should i do next?

(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott, lorenzo berkshire)

slytherin boys masterlist nav

mattheo riddle as Better Than Revenge

best lyric(s) - "she should keep in mind there is nothing I do better than revenge" + "she underestimated just who she was stealing from"

explanation - so, as stated in ttpd version (here), mattheo has a lot of pent up frustration and anger. so he's really good at getting back at people. especially when he gets into a relationship with a partner he really cares about and they ask him not to be mean or attack people for no reason. then he has to channel all his efforts into just getting back at people who bother him. (even though sometimes bothering him is just looking at him even slightly sideways).

w/ his partner - with his partner, mattheo has absolutely no regrets or qualms about being an absolute menace to society. since he began dating them, he's been much less volatile than his normal self, but whenever people get a little too cocky and do absolutely anything at or to you, all bets are off. then mattheo feels that its necessary to step up and remind people that he's still the dark lord's son and he will be the dark lord's son if he has to.

draco malfoy as Speak Now

best lyric(s) - "don't say yes, run away now, ill meet you when you're out" + "horrified looks from everyone in the room but i'm only looking at you"

explanation - I feel like draco is the kind of guy who would totally 1000% crash your wedding if you were ever marrying someone other than him. (*I just read this theo fic abt him crashing readers wedding, ill try and find it and link it here*) But anyways, he would totally crash your wedding. like at first he would feel really bad for even thinking about it but then he would legit just stroll into the chapel like "you can't marry him, you're supposed to marry me" even if he like never mentioned anything about his feelings for you. he mentioned them in his way aka glaring at you slightly less intense than he does everyone else. how could you not notice that he was in love with you?

w a partner - def more silly and cute than anything, but i like to think that when you first started dating (esp if youre a gryff or a huffle) draco would make it his personal mission to embarrass the hell out of you by saying the most out of pocket things in front of like the other slytherins or just in the middle of class as loudly as possible. he just likes to see the little blush on your cheeks whenever he says something that he most definitely should not be saying out loud.

theodore nott as Electric Touch

best lyric(s) - "all I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life" + "I'm tryin hard not to look like I'm trying"

explanation - theo is that guy thats scared of commitment. (sorry to all the theo girlies me included but we gotta admit it at some point). it's not that he doesn't care about his partner, it's just that he's terrified of commitment. there's way too much that could go wrong. he learned very early on that you could do everything right, love someone completely, treat them wonderfully, and then they could just die. but bc his mother passed at such a young age he has a very distorted point of view on this because in his head, he's like but what if they just die???

w/ a partner - that being said, when theo finds that person that's like the one for him, he wants to commit so bad. and he puts all of his effort into it, like he'll call you his girlfriend, he'll spend an exorbitant amount of money on you, he'll even buy you a damn ring, but he won't let you get emotionally close to him. and it kind of freaks him out when he finds himself wanting you to know him in that way. when you finally confront him about one day and he's like, what if you just like died?? and you're just sitting there across from him like '...'

theo, wtf? i'm not just gonna like keel over one day.

after that he kind of lets you in a little and after a few months when he's sure you're not just gonna suddenly fall over, then he's completely fine and continues on like nothing ever happened. (its a little amusing in the hindsight of it all)

lorenzo berkshire as Dear John

best lyric(s) - "don't you think 19's too young to be played by your dark twisted games" + "cause you burned them out, but I took your matches before fire could catch me"

explanation - I don't think it's really talked about enough how much emotional support that enzo needs. his own family aside, he still grew up around death eaters and that surely cannot be healthy for a guy. so when he finally is an adult, i like to think that he looked into some kind of therapy option wizard, muggle, or otherwise. i think that he probably also struggled a little with the friends that he lost during the entire ordeal that he wishes he could've saved (almost like survivor's guilt)

w a partner - so when it comes to a partner, i really think that he needs someone who sees him. that's really important to him that he's with someone that he could just let go with and not have to worry about always being either grinning or stonefaced. He'd like to be able to feel his entire range of emotions without hindrance and he's only really gonna feel safe to do that with a partner.

---

4.25.24

wc 960

taglist @moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #slytherin #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #draco malfoy x reader

[starsoftheeye]

TMAGP Live Reaction - Ep 13

This probably won't be a regular thing since I usually listen to the new episodes on my way home from school, but I wanted to do it today and no-one can stop me

Pre-Episode

Aw this dedication is so nice, reminds me of how I used to sign off on social media when I was younger

Pre-Statement

omg samcelia date samcelia date

they're so cute omg

"that you dont know how cute you are" alice dyer youre not fooling anyone

i wanna hear what this interaction sounded like between alice and celia

"nobody, i'm mysterious" this isnt gonna come back to haunt us im sure

omg samcelia dating reveal already

JACKS HER SON OMG

"wild couple of years after i moved here" does this mean that celias way of coping with being dropped in a different universe was to just fuck... iconic

either that or jack got brought along with her and shes just covering it up. or jack has some mysterious origins that we dont know about

omg a horror protagonists with loving, alive parents wow

i was not expecting sam to be this relatable oh no

sam :(

oh no an "incident"

alice :(

i love celia just being "i know we're on a date and thats great and all but what do you think about the Horrors"

ofc you know theyre real you lived through the apocalypse

ah hello lena and gwen

ah gwen is learning about the consequences of delivering a random address to a living mr blobby knockoff

ooh are we gonna get some exposition

yes we are

these are our Fears i presume

you work in the government responsible for discarding peoples experiences and traumas gwen you werent exactly one of the good guys to begin with

guys i dont think shes gonna sort it

Statement

hold music?? hello?? do we recognise this voice?? needles??

i cannot understand what the name of this company is but i do not like them

the autoresponder sounds so cunty who are they i must know

oooh a scottish guy we love a scottish guy

"i pay your wages" sounding ass. telling the autoresponder that youre the highest investor in a gambling app isnt the flex you think it is dude

i think if a website that directly involves the handling of your money does "weird background checks" and has a "janky interface", staying is less of a feat of loyalty and more a feat of stupidity

oh this guy does nfts for sure

are you allowed to blame the warning you didnt listen to for the consequences?

oh his friends suck too

damn all jokes aside i feel bad for this dude

ohhh so is this like the dice where things can only get so good before they go terribly? or is it like a "when your life gets bad your money goes up" thing

ah its the second option

tbf if its not against the law its not against the law

this guy is the definition of "20 pounds is 20 pounds"

suddenly i dont feel as sorry for this guy

i have a sneaking suspicion that this guy did not get his money

oh nevermind

OOOOOOH NEVERMIND THAT NEVERMIND

huh

HUH

DID THEY SEND A CREATURE TO GET HIM WHAT

Post-Statement

Alice!!

Ooooh he got pished

Alice really out here dissing every kind of date I've ever been on

oh no :(

sam no :(

sam apologise please

shes right tho youre in the wrong place if you don't want weird

alice :(

this is why a polycule would fix everything

alice i love you

sam i love you but you deserved that

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #samama khalid #celia ripley #alice dyer #gwendolyn bouchard #lena kelley #tmagp spoilers #tmagp reaction