#... but ill write on that eventually!

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[bamsara]

If you're stressing out about a part of the writing process for fanfic to the point where it's not fun anymore, just don't do that part

Post that fanfic with 1000 grammar and spelling errors. Make your characters OOC and give it a Mary Sue. It is a hobby you're sharing not a literature assignment you have to turn in by midnight

[inkprilled]

Screw it , I'm going to write this book.

[funkle420]

Turbo Granny blunt rotation WIP

[bloggerspam]

A Christmas Carol AU

Inspired by a prompt found in the @haunting-heroes-creative-games :) (i.e. back on my shit again)

When a 15 year old Jason, pissed at Bruce for taking Robin away from him, finds his birth certificate he realizes Catherine Todd is not his real mother.

Just as he resolves to go out and search for his birth mother, Jason finds himself accosted by three ghosts in his room, talking about A Christmas Carol of all things.

===

"So, what? We're gonna Christmas Carol him?"

Dan scoffs, crossing his bulky arms with an unimpressed look. "We hated that movie."

"I didn't." Dani chirps, disturbingly cheery, "I didn't see it!"

"We hate Christmas," Danny corrects, "But the movie was alright, and the logic is sound."

"I don't hate Christmas," Dani once again interjects cheerily, "I've never participated!"

"Sound my ass," Dan growls over her, throwing his hands up. "We don't even know this guy!"

"Minor detail." Danny insists, "Tuck can look him up."

"He's a fucking Bat, Danny." Dan scrunches up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose just like Vlad does when he's disgruntled with any of Dad's shenanigans.

"He's a Robin, actually." Dani pipes in, "And he's just a kid. How hard is it gonna be to pretend to be this kid's Ghosts?"

"You're a kid," Dan reminds her, crossing his arms, "And you didn't believe me when I told you sticking a fork in the outlet would shock you."

"I believed you," Dani sniffs haughtily, crossing her arms and pointing her nose up with a snooty voice, "The warning simply did not deter me from doing it anyway."

"We don't have to convince him we're his Ghosts, or even that we knew him before," Danny reasons, needling, "We just have to convince him that we're…"

He hums, pointing at Dani. "Past."

He points at himself, "Present."

He points at Dan, "Future."

Dani does a little cheer, arms up and twirling into the air before landing with her legs over Dan's shoulders, hands and head settling atop Dan's fiery, but harmless, hair. It flickers, before going limp into long white strands that Dani messes up by gently scrunching up the strands and running her fingers through them.

Dan lets her, huffing and looking weirdly like a downtrodden, wet cat. "Why am I future?"

"Because." Danny doesn't continue, because he knows it makes Dan annoyed. True to form, his scowl gets worse, like sucking on a lemon. They all know why anyway.

Dani grins, triumphant and knowing, letting her voice go real deep, "The future," she intones into Dan's hair, "is here."

"The future is now," Danny corrects her, but doesn't lose his smile, floating up to tuck a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

"The future is already here," Dan mumbles his correction, or is it a follow-up? "It's just not evenly distributed."

"How about you distribute some of those muscles, Gibson," Danny sighs, shaking his head "Waiting for puberty is such a drag, and we both know you didn't get the mass from Vlad's side of the family."

Dan makes a moue of disgust, but it serves him right. The consequences of his own actions, and whatnot. He looks up at Dani, who simply shrugs. "I think you'll do great." She leans down to give him two pats on the arm.

"So how's acting out A Christmas Carol gonna help us stop this Jason guy from blowing up?" Dani fiddles with Dan's hair, tongue poking out as she attempts a braid, "Will he even see us? Ghosts in this dimension taste funny."

"He'll be able to see us, it's magically rich enough for some ghosts to maintain a semblance of themselves," Danny explains for the third time. Dani and Dan hum at different pitches, and even though Danny is the common denominator he kind of hates that Vlad has more of a lasting impression on them. "The ectoplasm here is scarce and mostly corrupted, though, so it's rare."

"So there's lotsa bad ghosts here?" Dani eyes the messy braid she's made, proud, even as Dan's silky hair immediately causes it to fall apart, "Or 'mentally unsound' or whatever Frostbite called it."

"No," Dan grumbles, annoyed and indulging all at once, "Corruption begets ecto-rot, but the scarcity means they're not strong enough to actually retain their sense of self enough to rot."

"Shades," Danny explains when Dani looks even more confused, "There's lots of shades."

"Is this one of the Olympian dimensions?" Dani groans, flopping over Dan's shoulder as he sits down on the sofa, "I love Pandora and all, but if I see Zeus again I'm gonna lose it."

"It's one of the hero dimensions," Danny hums, taking over braiding Dan's hair the way Jazz made him when they were little, "There's a couple of Amazons walking about, but on the whole no Olympians."

"I don't know why he didn't just dump me in a Norse dimension." Dan leans back and closes his eyes to their ministrations. "Especially with my current occupation."

The three of them are sitting in Dan's apartment, a large loft studio located somewhere in the UK of the aforementioned hero-dimension. Alber-something, Danny can't remember. Doesn't need to, it being a different dimension from his anyway.

Dan doesn't have a lot of things: a sofa and TV, a bed in the corner, a decent but small kitchen. They're still trying to figure out decorations, but Dan on the whole is a minimalist so it's been slow going.

He's working as a bartender these nights, whiling away his odd existence now that his form has stabilized.

And wasn't that a trip? Learning that hey, adult lightning halfas shouldn't really be mixed with teenage ice halfas, actually!

Apparently, ectoplasm can become corrupted if you try to combine incompatible sources.

Apparently, side effects include (but are not limited to) unmitigated violence and a devastating need for vengeance.

Sound familiar?

"This dimension has a lot of time continuity errors," Danny reminds him, "Dropping you here gave the least amount of pushback."

"Yeah, yeah," Dan flaps a lazy hand, "Praise be the speedforce and flashpoints and whatnot."

"Plus," Dani adds softly, absent-minded as she watches Danny finish up the braid, "Lotsa heroes to help out if you relapse."

Dan heaves a slow, controlled sigh. Danny and Dani both pretend they don't notice.

"Is it bad?" Dan doesn't open his eyes, his voice is so low Danny can only hear him by virtue of his ghost powers, "Like me levels bad?"

"No." Danny shakes his head, leaning into his older self, his older brother of sorts, "He decapitated eight crime lords, killed a couple of assassins, maybe an innocent or two depending on your definition of things."

"Past tense?" Dan scrunches his nose. They all hate how confusing Time Shenanigans are.

"He's living as Red Hood, right this very moment."

"Red Hood?" Dani questions, "That his hero name?"

"Crime lord alias." Danny corrects her, "But he's more of a vigilante these days. Has a bat on his chest and everything."

"But it's bad enough to warrant a trip to the past." Dan points out, "Bad enough for us to try and persuade him. Does he relapse?"

"Not…exactly." Danny scrunches his face, not wanting to explain Clockwork's ambiguity.

Dani floats to spread over Danny and Dan's laps, sprawling out and purring like a cat. Self-soothing, though it's more for their benefit than hers.

"Like Dani said, there’re lots of heroes here, and he doesn't have powers." Danny continues, petting at Dani's soft hair, "The world doesn't end. He doesn't have the means to, even with the ecto-rot."

Danny pauses, and chooses his words deliberately and carefully. "And deep down, Jason Todd is a hero through and through. Relapse would be…difficult. His Obsession is similar to yours."

Dan lets that sit for a moment, but nods, Danny moving a little with the motion. The tension slowly bleeds out as they wait like that, enjoying each other's company.

"If the world doesn't end," Dani whispers, "Why is Clockwork sending all of us?"

Danny thinks on that, on his meeting with Clockwork. The Ancient's voice when he explained what would happen.

He thinks about Jason Todd, about Bruce Wayne, and Catherine, and Sheila. He thinks about Batman, and Robin.

He thinks about Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, about Damian Al Ghul, about Cassandra Cain, and all of Jason's Outlaws.

He thinks about a tattered uniform that stays up in a glass case for a long, long time.

Most of all, he thinks about Dan.

He thinks about regrets and one bad day away.

And then he stops thinking about it, because sometimes the past is the past, and other times, it's the future that never happens that haunts you instead.

"You know, Dani." He settles on, "I'm not sure. He probably has his reasons."

Dan leans heavier onto him, and they lean together like that, with Dani in their laps.

Ghosts of decisions made, unmade, and never to be.

Follow the story on AO3 here!

[ayexaye]

Kaiser didn’t even look at you when you stepped into his room. In fact, you weren’t sure if he’s looked at you at all since he got back from Japan a few days ago. Ever since he got back, he’s been different. You were understandably excited to know he had returned, and asked if he wanted to go out together, but he only responded to your texts and calls with indifference and a short “maybe”.

You knew he had a fragile ego. You knew that his arrogance and superiority were only masks to hide how much he truly despised everything about himself. But he never really let you—or, really, anyone—close enough to see how fake that mask was and how deep that hatred went.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You could only stare at the pitiful man in front of you, sitting at the edge of his bed.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Kaiser muttered, hands clenching against the sheets.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m worth anything.”

You slowly crossed the room towards him, and he seemed to flinch. Kaiser, who once carried himself like a god, now looked up at you like a dog who’s been kicked to the streets. He looked like a wreck, with dark circles and red-rimmed eyes like he hadn’t slept in days (and the only time he did was when he cried until he passed out), unusually tense shoulders, and restless hands.

You hated this. Not him, but you hated how the world treated him, how he treated himself. You knew he could do good things if he gave himself a chance.

“Get out.” He snapped, even though both of you knew it wasn't you he was angry with. “Whatever version of me you think you love is fake. I’m garbage.”

“Whatever happened, you’re still you.” You attempted to get through to him, but Kaiser wouldn’t listen.

“Leave. Before I make you hate me too. You should want better than me. You deserve more than me.”

── .✦

Idk what this is i just have kaiser on the mind

𖹭.ᐟ Masterlist

[a-neru-neru]

i have fully entered this fandom. heres my new chew toy to give depression to

[wackywatchdotcom]

made a tiny comic out of a scene from a thing im planning on writing :D

[batty-pham]

Danny working in retail.

Dead end job.

He always ends up at the nightshift.

Everyone thinks the bags under his eyes are because he can't sleep.

He gets told all the time that he "looks like death" and he always just replies "thanks"

He just sorta stands in the dark corner and customers don't notice him, but they sorta inherently know he's there and avoid him, but he moves and they about shit their pants.

[stellewriites]

trans!soap who buys one of those dick molding kits and drops it in ghost’s lap, asks him to do it so he can have a braw cock to fuck his new girlfriend with.

“need something that’ll leave her weak-kneed, ya ken? an’ i know from personal experience that yers’ll do the job, lt.”

[logosbot-tm-fics]

Peak "Came Back Wrong" from this session. Especially if you view it from Grumbo perspective imo

Mumbo died, and Grian reacted with horror. He screamed when he realised it had happened, and he almost immediately tried to arrange a grave and a funeral. Then Jimmy laughs at his death, and in response, Grian shot him. No one disrespects Mumbo.

Then Grian manages to bring both Mumbo and Skizz back, by some miracle. Sure, he can't summon them, Cleo can, but they're back!

And he's actually really happy when they first show up to interact with him, and then... they just start insulting him. His team mates. His boyfriend and his friend are both insulting him.

But hey, he forgives them, it was their task, so not really their fault.

Though, that should've been the first sign that they weren't quite right. That they had come back wrong, and Grian ends up getting killed by the person be basically trusts the most.

Mumbo kills him when Grian is getting food out of all things. He just kills him, and sure, he says that he's sorry, but he still kills Grian.

And never before has Grian felt that betrayed.

[laurrelise]

prove me wrong: tua s4 was a giant aidan gallagher thirst trap written and created by yours truly steve blackman

[rsenak]

It's incredibly funny to me how I'll be there drawing them being cute while plotting various bad things in their future. These crows cannot catch a break

[potatoplace]

Charades: 3 Words, 4 Syllables

C1: 3 Words, 4 Syllables | C2 | AO3 Link

Series Masterlist | ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Eventual Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find out you have cancer, and it's unlikely you'll survive. In an attempt to preserve your sister's happiness, you're keeping your diagnosis a secret until after her honeymoon. In the meantime, you'll need help from one person, to go to and from your appointments.

This is a terminal illness fic. Reader has cervical cancer, due to an HPV infection. The HPV vaccine is incredibly effective at almost completely reducing the risk for cervical cancer, as well as others. HPV is able to be transmitted through skin-to-skin contact as well as through sexual contact, and it is incredibly important to receive the vaccine.

Please don't feel the need to read this fic, it is a no happy ending one. There is no bright spot at the end, just sadness. I'm writing it because I need a good outlet right now for how I'm feeling after losing M'aiq. But feel free to skip it, it's going to be just. Heavy and sad.

Warnings: Terminal Illness, Cancer, no happy ending, angst, medical tests (pap smear, use of speculum)

Words: ~3.2k

Author's Note: like I said above, this is just an outlet for me right now. It's gonna be sad. Sad sad. Idk if it'll get updated 🤷‍♀️ who knows. It's an outlet so I'll see when I need it again. Hoping to get some of my scheduled stuff worked on tomorrow. Love you guys 🫶 -- also the title is from a Halsey song, it was a digital deluxe release for TGI during release week, chapter title is lyrics from it!

18+ only pls

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

You’d never thought your life would come to this.

Staring at white walls, avoiding looking directly at the too-bright lights on the ceiling, your feet in stirrups, a doctor checking between your legs as you shivered, utterly uncomfortable at being examined down there.

You’d never even had sex, yet here you were, spread open because your tests hadn’t come back clean. That paired with the near constant spotting you had been experiencing for the last year, and now the constant fatigue, shortness of breath…

There was no point in worrying, until you had to. That’s what you kept telling yourself at least, to keep the anxiety from creeping too deeply into your heart.

“Wow, uhm,” the doctor said, shock evident in her tone. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go grab the head doctor really quickly, so it tight, okay?”

And that was your sign to start worrying. Big time.

You nodded at her and craned your neck to watch as she left the exam room quickly, before your eyes returned to the colorless walls, the pale pink cabinets to your left. A heavy breath left you as you ran over the possible scenarios, what horrors the doctor had seen within you.

Large amounts of endometriosis? A baby, somehow?

… Cancer?

It was no secret that your healthcare had fallen to the wayside over the years, what with your mother dying shortly after your birth and your family losing their fortune less than five years later. Your father had been left to fend for himself and four girls, and it was a miracle that the four of you had made it this far, as unscathed as you were.

And now? Well, it was a miracle that you were here, in a doctor’s office at all. You couldn’t remember the last time that you’d been for anything other than the required shots for public school.

But here you were, going to the doctor on your sister’s-fiancé’s-family’s dime, in a country you had just moved to.

A knock sounded on the door to your right, an older woman following your doctor into the room before shutting the door softly behind her.

“Hello, Y/N, my name is Madja, I’m the head OB/GYN here, and Ianthe suggested I help examine you today. Is that alright?” You nodded shyly, watching as she took Ianthe’s previous spot, the other doctor hovering nervously behind her. Your eyes turned to the ceiling as she examined you, doing your best to ignore any sensations. You heard Madja ask Ianthe to grab supplies for her, only tuning back in when she spoke directly to you. “Okay, Y/N, I’m going to get a small sample, you’ll feel a brief pain and some mild cramping after.” You winced as she did so, squeezing your eyes together tightly. “Good job, you did wonderfully, and it’s all done.”

Madja removed her gloves and helped you remove your legs from the stirrups, sitting up on the exam table a moment later. “So, Y/N, we did see some abnormalities, and I’m going to order a few tests for you to find out more. Since we’re attached to the hospital, we’ll get you sent over for them in just a few minutes. Do you have any questions for me?”

“I… Do you… Do you have an idea of what it might be?” you asked her nervously, eyes flicking to Ianthe, who was fidgeting in the corner.

Madja sighed, a sad smile on her lips. “We won’t know for certain until the test results come back, but… Is there anyone we can call for you, dear?”

“No, no, I’ll…” you sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to worry anyone, yet. Not until we know what it is.”

She nodded, an understanding look in her eyes. “Very well. Ianthe will take you for your tests in a moment, and we’ll have answers soon. So don’t worry, alright, dear?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, watching as she left the room.

“Well, I’ll go grab a wheelchair, and we’ll get you down to MRI, CT, and X-Ray in a jiffy. And since you’re so important, you’ll probably get to skip to the front of each line, and you’ll be home before you know it!” Ianthe told you cheerfully, but you could see the sadness lingering in her eyes before she turned to leave.

You wondered how long she’d be able to keep it up, the fake-happy act, when something was very clearly wrong with you.

She returned a moment later, promised wheelchair parked outside of the room as she led you into it, settling your feet onto the footrests before beginning to wheel you deeper into the facility, chattering mindlessly to you about your hair.

Just recently, you’d had it bleached to a pale blonde, a look that you’d always wanted to try. But now that you were being given a weekly stipend for having had your life turned upside in a matter of months… You’d gone ahead and done it, loving the results.

“So do you use a special shampoo or anything?” Ianthe asked you as the two of you waited for the elevator to arrive at your floor.

“Hm?” You’d completely spaced out, your mind stuck on how painful those last few minutes of bleach had been. “Oh, I use one for color treated hair, but the real secret is purple shampoo. It keeps it looking bright,” you replied, running your fingers through your hair.

“That’s good to know, I’ve been thinking about going lighter with my own hair but the maintenance… It looks so amazing on you, though,” Ianthe gushed as she pulled up to a set of doors with a sign next to them reading Radiology: MRI. “Wait just a second, I’ll make sure we get in soon, love,” the bubbly blonde said with a squeeze to your shoulder before entering the room.

Only a minute later she returned. “Alright, as soon as the other patient’s done, we’re next. So, where’d you go to get it done?”

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

Three hours spent waiting for scans and getting scans done later, and you were back in the exam room you’d started in. Thankfully you’d been able to change back into your clothes, a comfortable but stylish pair of jeans and a hoodie, all courtesy of your soon-to-be-in-laws. Ianthe had gone to grab Madja a few minutes ago, but you could have sworn it was thirty minutes later when the pair finally returned, a redhead also entering the room with them.

“Alright, Y/N, we have a few things to go over,” Madja said seriously, taking a seat on a rolling stool. “During your pelvic exam, we observed what seemed to be a mass, obstructing your cervix. I took a sample, and we sent you for a round of tests for imaging, and reviewed them carefully. I’ll let Dr. Berdara take it from here.”

The redhead stepped forward, extending a hand towards you, shaking your hand gently. “My name is Gwyneth, but you can call me Gwyn,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m a gynecological oncologist, meaning that I deal with cancer of the female reproductive organs. From the tests we’ve run today, I am sorry to inform you that you have cancer. It is stage IV metastatic cervical cancer that has spread to your lungs, bones, and lymph nodes. We can discuss treatment options, but I would recommend telling your family as soon as possible.”

You nodded, but anxiety was already creeping through you, holding you hostage in one position. “I… I’m waiting, until after the honeymoon. I want them to enjoy it,” you whispered, thinking of how happy Feyre had been recently. How she was excited for this wedding, unlike her previous almost-wedding to that abusive jackass. “Could we keep whatever treatments we do secret, until then?”

And you didn’t want anything to get in the way of it.

Not even… Not even with you possibly dying.

“Of course. But you will likely need someone to take you to and from your appointments,” Gwyn pointed out with a raised brow. “And someone to be your emergency contact.”

“I’ll figure something out,” you mumbled, letting yourself take a steadying breath before asking the question you didn’t want to hear the answer to. “What are my options?”

“Well, we have a few things we can do. Surgically, we could do a radical hysterectomy, and possibly look at further surgeries to remove other masses, though I would not recommend the extra strain on your body,” Gwyn explained gently, watching as your eyes widened before filling with tears. “I recommend starting intravenous chemotherapy as soon as possible, we can make up a schedule for it before you leave today. Do you have any questions?”

“Uhm…” you sniffled. “What are…  What are my chances, with all the treatments?”

Gwyn’s eyes softened as she looked at you, grasping your hand gently. “With the severity of your diagnosis… We can make you comfortable, for the next few months.”

You nodded resolutely. At just 19, you were likely going to die.

“I wish I’d been able to come in sooner,” you whispered softly, before tears finally spilled over onto your cheeks.

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

“Did you want to stop for anything before we head home, miss?” your driver, Nuala asked.

“No, thank you, Nuala. Thank you for waiting so long for me,” you said quietly, guilt building inside of you. After all, you’d been in the clinic for over four hours, and the woman had been patient enough to wait outside with no more than one text, asking her to wait until you were done.

“It’s no problem, your safety is of the utmost importance.”

Right.

That was the whole reason you had moved to Prythian, after all. A tiny coastal country on the western edge of Spain, with only one large city - Velaris, whose streets you were currently being driven through.

And home? Home was a palace, where your sister’s fiancé, Rhys, and his family ruled from.

You would have been content, living in your small town in the southern US, if not for the attempted kidnappings that had occurred a month ago, prompting you and your other two sisters’ quick relocations to Prythian in an effort to not have the three of you killed.

Apparently, ruling a country didn’t make you popular with everyone.

But you wouldn’t complain now, having the freedom to explore your passions without worrying about having a job would be nice.

Though… That might not happen, after all…

You watched the vibrant streets passed by, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your bed, ready to ignore everyone and everything in an effort to not give away your new… Condition.

Which is exactly what you did, slowly making your way from the garage to the entrance hall, then through the main hall and up the grand staircase, taking the first right before seeing your door at the end of the hall.

If you were this exhausted now… You could only imagine what hell the chemo would put you through, how you’d manage to make it all the way up here each time.

As it was, your first round of it would be given to you tomorrow and…

Shit, you needed to find someone to take you…

Collapsing onto your plush, far too large bed, you thought of your options.

You didn’t want to burden Nuala, she already had enough errands to run all the time without having to babysit you five times a week for however long it took to administer the medications.

Your sisters were out of the question, you knew that Nesta and Elain would both tell Feyre, and your hopes at letting her enjoy her wedding would be shot.

You only had a week before the wedding, and two weeks after than for her honeymoon to be over. Only three weeks that you needed to keep up this charade, that you were fine and nothing was out of the ordinary. After that, you would be able to tell your sisters, whatever… Whatever that would look like.

At some point you must have drifted off, as you were awoken by the dinging of your phone, a text from Feyre ringing out.

Dinner’s in five, don’t be late!

That was two minutes ago, meaning you only had three to drag yourself downstairs and into the dining room, or else risk scathing looks from the King.

He hated people being late.

You hurried out of your room, knowing that he’d likely be pissed no matter what, seeing as you were still clad in jeans and a hoodie, entirely too casual for a dinner in a palace.

Though you didn’t see much why it mattered, as there was no one around to take pictures of your impropriety.

It doesn’t matter, I just need to do better. I’m living here on his dime, after all, and he’s going to be paying for my treatments too… You paused when you hit the bottom of the stairs, a wave of dizziness washing over you.

A strong hand met your back, keeping you steady. “Hey, are you alright?”

You managed to look up, eyes meeting hazel before flicking away. “I’m fine, thank you. Just ran down the stairs too fast, I think,” you said, an awkward laugh leaving you before you remembered that you were going to be late. Quickly, you set off for the dining room, Azriel hot on your heels, though you knew he could pass you easily with those long legs of his, and the fact that you were moving at slower pace than usual.

The two of you entered the dining hall together, just as the clock struck six.

“Good of you to join us, Azriel, Y/N,” the King, Xander, said as the two of you took the remaining empty seats next to each other. Dinner began shortly after, waiters bringing out salads and pouring wine, to which you placed your hand over your glass, not wanting to test how alcohol works with an illness like yours.

Probably not well, if you had to guess.

You hated how long these dinners took sometimes, and right now especially. All you wanted to do was go back upstairs and sleep, maybe take a nice, hot bath for the cramping you were having.

Over an hour later, dessert was served, and you hardly touched it. It had been a chore to eat the roast meat and veggies you’d just finished, and you were certain that you would lose everything if you attempted to have more, nausea already building in your throat.

You could practically feel Azriel’s eyes burning a hole into the side of you, watching you the entire time. Even now, as you took tiny sips of tea, he was watching you.

So… Maybe you had acted strangely before coming in here, but that didn’t mean that he thought something was wrong, and he probably wasn’t even watching you. You were probably just being paranoid, now that you had something to hide.

You left the dinner just after the King and Queen did, not noticing that the same someone who followed you in had chosen to follow you out, as well.

You made your way back to the grand staircase, looking up at them with dread in your eyes. You were tired, and you were still cramping, and you were emotionally exhausted, and… And you just wanted to cry.

“Do you want help?” that deep, smooth voice asked you, and you turned your head to the right to see Azriel, standing a few paces away with his hands clasped behind his back.

“No, I’m fine, but thank you for asking, Azriel,” you replied, latching your hand to the railing as you began to ascend, the eighteen steps kicking your ass by the end of it, and you stopped, breathing deeply as you tried to slow your heartrate and clear the dizziness from your head.

“You’re not fine, Y/N,” Azriel hissed as he led you with a gentle hand on your back, getting you safely to your room. You plopped onto your bed, sighing as your lungs recovered. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve had doctor’s appointments frequently, and now you’re struggling to walk up a flight of stairs without help. You aren’t fine.”

Falling back, you let yourself stare at the ceiling as you contemplated the risks of telling him.

Feyre had told you he was good at knowing secrets about everyone, though she hadn’t mentioned his proclivity to share them with others…

Half of the truth, then.

“I’m sick, Azriel. I need to go to treatments five times a week, starting tomorrow. And I need you to not tell anyone, not until after Feyre and Rhys get back from their honeymoon,” you told him, your voice soft, resigned.

“Alright. Do you have a way to get there?”

You blinked for a moment, dumbfounded. “No, I don’t…”

“That’s solved, then, I’ll take you. What time do you need to leave tomorrow?”

You pulled yourself back into a seated position, a confused look on your face. “You’ll take me? Why?”

“Because you’re Feyre’s sister, and you deserve to have help in this, even if you refuse to tell your sisters now. Besides, I have nothing scheduled for the next three weeks, and after that, your sisters can take over. So, what time do we need to leave?”

Teeth worried your lip as you stared at him, utterly confused by his interest in helping you. You’d spoken maybe ten times in the month the two of you lived under the same roof, and it had been brief contact at that. But you supposed… Help would be nice, and he was offering…

“My appointment is at ten, and it takes about twenty minutes to get there.”

Azriel nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you at 9:30 to take you down to the garage. Have a good night, Y/N.”

He left your room soon after, leaving you laying on your bed, confused at the turn of events. From brief interactions to now offering to take you to your appointments, five days a week… It was strange, and you were also grateful.

As for the rest of your evening, while a bath sounded nice… you would much rather change into a nightgown and crawl into bed, maybe even get a whole twelve hours of sleep tonight.

So you did exactly that, shedding your jeans and hoodie, before slipping into a soft, powder blue nightgown. You set an alarm for 7:30, deeming two hours more than enough to take a bath or shower, then have a light breakfast before your treatment started.

You weren’t feeling hopeful, not really. The only thing you were letting yourself hope for was that you wouldn’t ruin Feyre’s wedding festivities. You wanted her to be happy.

That’s all you’d ever wanted, for your sisters.

That’s all you’d ever wanted for yourself.

But you were good at playing like you were fine, good at pushing through the pain. So long as you didn’t have to face a set of stairs, it seems.

You’d keep this secret, until the time was right.

🤍💙💔💙🤍

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[scarlet-hedgehog-from-hell]

Broken face 2018x... so angsty... such a bastard...

Also heres some sillies

[crows-of-buckets]

Anders doodle that I could have put more effort into but I got lazy :P

Anyways this specifically is meant to take place after he patches up Hawke after the Arishok fight. I was writing it last night and went "hm I should draw that"

Bonus, shitty sketch I did at 2am when I had this idea and the writing segment that inspired it. It's so funny I talk about my writing a lot but I never share it cause it scares me lmao