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prythiansprincess · 2 years ago

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shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.

author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott.

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.

You were going to kill him.

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”

You huffed. “That makes two of us.”

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?”

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”

“He deserved it.”

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”

Because at least you were thinking of me.

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.

“Need some help, love?”

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.

Then he fucking moaned.

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”

“What are you saying, Theo?”

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”

“Everything about you turns me on.”

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”

“I bet you are, darling.”

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”

“Yes ma'am.”

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

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#double feature cause i have no self control baby #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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soulofapatrick · 1 year ago

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Broken Showers Aren't All Bad - Alec Lightwood x female reader

Summary: You use Alec's shower as yours is broken

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

As I stumble back to the institute, my muscles aching and my clothes stained with sweat and demon ichor, I can’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. The fight against the shax demons had been relentless, each blow and dodge taking its toll on my body and spirit.

Dragging myself to my room, I’m grateful for the ensuite bathroom, the promise of a hot shower offering a small sliver of comfort amidst the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us. But as I step into the shower and turn on the water, my relief quickly turns to frustration as the pipes splutter and the flow of water comes to an abrupt halt, leaving me standing there in disbelief.

With a groan of frustration, I pound my fist against the tiled wall, feeling a surge of pent-up anger and exhaustion bubbling to the surface. It's the last straw in a long line of setbacks and challenges, and I can't help but feel like I'm at the end of my rope. They said they had fixed my shower earlier today but it’s still fucked.

Desperate for a solution, I run through a mental checklist of every member of our group, trying to determine who might be willing to let me use their shower. Clary and Jace are out of the question—they're probably lost in each other's embrace, lost in their own world of love and passion. And Izzy, well, she doesn't know the meaning of privacy, likely to barge in without warning at any given moment.

That leaves Alec—the one person in our group who values his privacy above all else. It's a long shot, but I'm left with no other choice, especially as he’s out on a mission currently.

As I tiptoe through the dimly lit corridors of the Institute, my heart races with anticipation and a tinge of nervousness. I know I shouldn't be doing this, sneaking into Alec's room while he's away on a mission, but my own shower has been malfunctioning for days, and I can't stand the thought of going another day feeling unkempt.

The door to Alec's room creaks softly as I push it open, praying that no one hears. Stepping inside, I quickly make my way to the bathroom, feeling a rush of relief wash over me as I shut the door behind me. The warm steam soon envelops me as I strip off my clothes and throw my towel aside, longing for the hot water.

As I step into Alec's shower, the warmth envelops me like a comforting embrace, easing the tension that had been coiled tightly in my muscles. The steam fills the small space, wrapping around me like a gentle cloud, washing away the lingering remnants of fear and adrenaline from the encounter with the shax demons.

I close my eyes, letting the water cascade over me, each droplet a soothing caress against my skin. The scent of Alec's shampoo and soap fills the air, a familiar and comforting aroma that helps to ground me in the present moment.

With each passing second, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by a sense of relaxation and relief. The hot water works its magic, easing the ache in my limbs and soothing the bruises that litter my body from the fight.

I tilt my head back, letting the water cascade over my face, feeling the weight of the day's events slowly lift from my shoulders. In this moment, there is nothing but the sensation of warmth and cleanliness, a temporary reprieve from the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us.

As I stand under the warm cascade of water in Alec's shower, a sense of tranquility washes over me, momentarily banishing the worries and fears that had plagued me earlier. But as the sound of footsteps approaches the door, my heart lurches in my chest, and panic sets in like a suffocating wave.

Alec’s footsteps are unmistakable—steady and purposeful, devoid of the usual warmth or joviality. My mind races with the worst-case scenarios, imagining his stern expression and sharp reprimands as he discovered me here, intruding upon his private space and using his stuff.

With trembling hands, I reach for the shower curtain, hastily pulling it closed around me as if it could shield me from the impending confrontation. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the steamy air feeling suddenly stifling as I await Alec's inevitable discovery.

The moment the bathroom door creaks open, my heart feels as though it’s lodged in my throat, and I shrink back against the tiled wall, desperately trying to make myself as small as possible on instinct. Through the opaque curtain, I can vaguely make out Alec’s silhouette, his presence looming like an impending storm.

“Who’s there?” His voice pierces through the heavy silence, sharp and authoritative, sending a shiver down my spine.

I swallow hard, my throat feeling dry and constricted. "It's me," I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper, my words muffled by the fabric of the curtain.

Alec’s footsteps draw nearer, and I can feel the weight of his gaze boring into me, even through the barrier of the shower curtain. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, bracing for the inevitable backlash of his discovery.

“What are you doing here?" His voice carries a note of incredulity, mixed with a hint of confusion.

I bite my lip, my mind scrambling for an explanation, any excuse that could possibly justify my presence here. "My shower... it's broken," I stammer out, my words coming out in a rushed tumble, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

There’s a moment of tense silence, broken only by the sound of water cascading from the showerhead. I brace myself for Alec's anger, fully expecting a sharp rebuke for my audacity.

But, to my surprise, when Alec finally speaks, his voice carries a note of understanding, his tone softer than I had anticipated. "Well, I suppose you can finish up here," he says, his words tinged with a hint of amusement.

Relief floods through me like a tidal wave, and I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly begin to ebb away.

As I finish my shower, hastily drying off with a fluffy towel, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as I realise my oversight—I forgot to bring clean clothes with me. With a frustrated sigh, I wrap the towel tightly around my body, hoping it provides at least some semblance of modesty as I prepare to face the inevitable embarrassment of leaving Alec's bathroom in just my towel.

Steeling myself for the inevitable, I take a deep breath and push open the bathroom door, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I step into the room beyond. My eyes dart nervously around the familiar surroundings, searching for any sign of Alec's presence.

And then, I see him—standing by the window, his back turned to me, his gaze focused intently on something outside. Relief floods through me at the sight, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the awkwardness of the situation.

But as if sensing my presence, Alec turns, his eyes widening in surprise as they travel the length of my body, lingering for a moment longer than is strictly necessary. A flush of crimson creeps into his cheeks, and he quickly averts his gaze, clearing his throat in a feeble attempt to disguise his embarrassment. "Uh, sorry," he mumbles, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes fixed resolutely on the floor. "I didn't realise you were... uh... here.”

I swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to my own cheeks as I struggle to find the right words to break the awkward silence that hangs between us. "I, uh... forgot to bring clean clothes," I mumble sheepishly, feeling like a fool for my forgetfulness.

Alec nods awkwardly, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "Right," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, um... I can, uh, go get you something to wear... if you want.”

Instead of leaving the room to head to mine he moves to his chest of drawers, searching for something for me to wear. I feel a mix of gratitude and nervous anticipation, never expecting Alec to share his clothes with me let alone his shower. When he returns with a black t-shirt in hand, I accept it with a grateful smile, clutching it tightly against my chest as I wait for him to realise that he needs to turn away.

For a moment, Alec seems to falter, his gaze lingering on me expectantly until the realisation dawns on him. With a slight cough, he quickly averts his eyes, turning away to give me the privacy I need to pull the shirt over my head. As I slide the shirt on, I'm struck by how it drapes loosely over my frame, reaching down to mid-thigh and resembling more of a short dress than a typical t-shirt. The fabric is soft against my skin, imbued with Alec's scent, a comforting reminder of his presence.

When Alec finally turns back around, his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of me in his shirt, his gaze lingering on the way it hugs my curves and falls to the length of my thighs. A faint blush creeps into his cheeks once again, but this time, there's a hint of something else in his expression—a mixture of admiration and something deeper, more intimate.

"You, uh, look good in that," he stammers out, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes flickering uncertainly as they meet mine.

I can't help but smile at his awkward attempt at a compliment, feeling a warmth spread through me at the genuine sincerity in his words. "Thanks," I reply softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach at the realisation that Alec's gaze lingers on me a moment longer than necessary, his eyes filled with a warmth that sends a shiver down my spine.

As I stand there in Alec's room, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, I can't shake the feeling of reluctance that settles in the pit of my stomach. Despite the lingering warmth of Alec's gaze and the newfound connection between us, I know that I can't stay here forever.

With a soft sigh, I muster up the courage to break the silence, clearing my throat awkwardly as I glance towards the door. "I should probably get back to my room," I say softly, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

Alec nods in understanding, his expression unreadable as he steps aside to let me pass. "Yeah, of course," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

As I make my way towards the door, a pang of regret washes over me, aching in my chest like a physical weight. Part of me had hoped that Alec would stop me from leaving, that he would reach out and pull me back into his embrace, unwilling to let me go.

But as I glance back over my shoulder, Alec's expression remains stoic and unreadable, his gaze fixed resolutely on the floor. With a heavy heart, I push open the door and step out into the hallway, the sound of it closing behind me echoing in the silence.

As I return to my room, the echoes of Alec's presence still lingering in my mind, I quickly slip on a pair of panties before reaching for the black t-shirt he lent me. With a momentary pang of guilt, I peel off the shirt, feeling a sense of loss as I momentarily remove the comforting fabric from my skin.

But the need for cleanliness overrides my reluctance, and I hastily pull on a clean bra before slipping Alec's shirt back over my head, the familiar fabric enveloping me once again in its warmth. Bringing the collar to my nose, I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of Alec that lingers there, a mixture of soap and sweat and something uniquely him.

Lost in the comforting embrace of Alec's shirt, I'm startled by a sudden knock at my door, the sound jolting me back to reality. Swinging the door open, expecting to see Izzy, my breath catches in my throat as it’s Alec standing there instead. His expression is wrought with anxiety and before I can even utter a word of inquiry, he closes the gap between us in two swift strides, his hands reaching out to cup my face in a surprisingly gentle yet urgent grip.

The world seems to tilt on its axis as Alec's lips crash against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs and sending my heart into a frenzied rhythm. His kiss is passionate and breathless, a whirlwind of emotions and desires unleashed in a single moment of raw vulnerability.

I'm momentarily stunned, my mind struggling to catch up with the sudden turn of events. But as Alec's lips move fervently against mine, a surge of warmth floods through me, melting away any doubts or reservations I may have had.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer, losing myself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch. His hands are rough and calloused against my skin, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips as they trail a fiery path along my jawline and down my neck.

In that moment, there is nothing else but Alec and me, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of passion and longing. The world outside fades away, replaced by the electric intensity of our connection as we become entangled in each other's embrace.

And as Alec finally pulls away, his chest heaving with exertion, I'm left breathless and exhilarated, a million thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind. “Do it again,” I s all I can breathe, Alec’s response immediate and impassioned. With a hunger that matches my own, he presses me against the nearest wall, his lips claiming mine with a fervour that leaves me dizzy with desire. In that moment, it feels as though we're the only two people in the world, lost in the intensity of our connection.

His hand finds its way to my bare thigh beneath his shirt, hitching my leg around his waist, pulling me impossibly closer as if he can't bear to be apart from me even for a moment longer. The sensation of his touch sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. Every caress, every kiss feels like an affirmation of the bond between us, a silent promise of things to come.

But our stolen moment of passion is abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. Reluctantly, we break apart, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we turn to find Izzy standing in the doorway of my room, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Welllllll" she says, her voice laced with amusement. “Sorry to interrupt this but I need to steal Y/N,” she adds with a wink, "you two can continue this later. Preferably with the bedroom door closed this time.”

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position, burying my face in Alec’s shirt who's gaze remains unwavering as he meets Izzy's teasing grin with a smirk of his own.

“Later Izzy," he replies smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “10 more minutes.”

With that Izzy snorts and closes the door on her way out, a fond smile on her face and Alec pulling me into his arms, a hug that has me nuzzling into the crook of his neck not sure what this is between us.

“I never thought I’d be happy about a broken shower.”

“Me neither.”

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#Alec Lightwood #Alec Lightwood fluff #Alec Lightwood smut #Alec Lightwood angst #tmi #the mortal instruments one shots #the mortal instruments #Alec Lightwood x reader #Alec Lightwood x you #Alec Lightwood x y/n #Matthew daddario #shadowhunters

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alexanderlightweight · 29 days ago

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Hi! Could I please request another installment of Eldrich Delight? Prompts/ideas - Ragnor meeting Alec; Does Magnus help with/see the Trueblood menagerie; something regarding Camille?

Feel free to use any, all or none of the above.

SFW/NSFW - your choice, however I will admit I'm morbidly curious what NSFW would look like in this universe.

So glad you're feeling up to writing again! Thank you!

here we are!! and this is from outside POV since it wouldn't be fair to poor Ragnor to be perceived by Magnus or Alec on their first meeting. I hope you enjoy! Cat has met Alec before, but this is Ragnor's first time. the poor bloke. it's not nsfw because Ragnor wouldn't survive having to witness that in this verse and I like him alive.

<3 lumine

this eldritch delight

Ragnor’s barely made it through the portal before he’s turning, as if to go straight back through and Cat cuts the connection without a drop of guilt.

“You fiend.” Ragnor mutters under his breath, “utterly heartless, truly.”

She smirks and just raises an eyebrow because really, she’s been the one dealing with it up close and personal and he thinks this is enough cause to flee?

Magnus and his fiance are on the patio, something Cat had specifically not mentioned.

“Have I not suffered enough?” Ragnor mutters and then it’s too late for him. Cat has sent him across the room and into Magnus’ enthusiastic hug. It’s lucky for him that Alec isn’t the hugging type, though Ragnor’s sanity is still at risk.

Especially with how much skin Magnus is showing, the way he’s sharing his tea directly with Alec and the fact that Alec is holding Magnus’ bare hand. In fact not only are they constantly holding hands but they keep touching in other ways.

Without Magnus’ paramour collapsing.

“You thought we were exaggerating.” Catarina can’t hold back her laughter as she finally lets Ragnor have a break, using the excuse of making more tea by hand.

“I thought Magnus was lost in a bloody daydream and that you were enabling him.” Ragnor admits, though it’s not a surprise considering how concerned he’s been in their last call. “Not something I normally accuse you of, but honestly how is it possible?”

Catarina shrugs, already done with searching for answers with no end and honestly, what does it matter if Magnus is happy? Ragnor seems to have come to the same conclusion as he’s already simply making two pots. A poisonous one, and a safe one with a little bit of an antidote, just to be even more safer.

“At least the tea won’t go cold before he can finish the pot now.” Ragnor mutters, as if that’s truly been his greatest concern with Magnus’ ongoing inability to form as close a connection as Magnus wanted or needed. Or that they aren’t warlocks and all of Ragnor’s teapots have stasis and heating wards on them.

“Yes, such a relief.” Catarina can’t help her giggle, or the fact that Ragnor is rolling his eyes but smiling back, a relief to him that is growing bolder and broader the more he sees how content Magnus is.

“I think it’ll take me a good few years before I’m not surprised to see him kissing Magnus without dying, but they’ll be enjoyable years. Seeing how happy Magnus is.” Ragnor is something of a romantic when he lets himself be, not for himself or for anyone else, but for Magnus he is.

If not for Magnus, Ragnor would turn his nose up at the very notion, but romance is what Magnus wants and therefore it is what he should have. Even if Cat has a feeling that Ragnor still doesn’t quite understand the notion of romance.

Besides, it’s the commitment to the cause that’s meaningful.

Magnus laughs, a sound that has Ragnor wincing, his pallor blanching and he dabs his forehead with a handkerchief as sweat beads at his brow.

“One of these days,” Ragnor gripes to himself, “I will laugh and see how he likes it.”

“He loves it when you laugh.”

“That is hardly the point, Catarina. I’m going to laugh in a way that makes his spine curdle and then we’ll see who is laughing.”

“It would be you. And I don’t think either of us want to be capable of making the kind of noise that would cause someone like Magnus of all people, to be afraid.”

“As always, despite your fraud you are nothing but a font of wisdom.”

“Is it really fraud if you didn’t believe the truth? Which is what led us here?” Catarina hides a smirk, giving Ragnor a soft, gracious and forgiving smile. It’s with a huff that her dear friend nearly slams through the door, his magic softening the drama so that it neither makes a loud noise or damages her door.

It’s simply dramatic.

Yet not dramatic enough.

Ragnor ends up slamming both pots of tea down onto the table with magic and even that isn’t enough for Magnus and Alec to stop kissing. The sight is terrifying and unsettling as much as it makes her happy and Catarina finds that the air near them has become a nightmare of clashing temperatures.

“They’re going to burn through my furniture and cool the tea despite the heating charms at this rate.”

“I’m not letting your reckless snogging ruin my good tea!” Ragnor bellows it, taking a cool, stale cup of tea and tossing it at the two. It crystallized with ice even as it evaporates with heat, but finally they part.

“It’s not my fault you took so long to make tea.” Magnus pouts at them. Waving away the light mist that was tea, as if that will make him look innocent rather than a horror yet to be discovered.

“Oh please, you probably started kissing him before the door even shut.” Catarina doesn’t let Magnus have this one, she knows the truth and he sighs, the sound a torment and delight at the same time.

“He did.” Magnus’ Alexander throws Magnus under the bust with merciless glee, looking at his fiance with vicious tenderness. “He—”

Magnus shoves a biscuit with baneberry jam into Alec’s mouth, ignoring the deadly glare it earns him, that he probably considers a pout.

AN:

Cat and Ragnor, fighting their instincts since the beginning and getting annoyed at their stupid body’s stupid reactions. Like yes Magnus sounds like a ghoul murdering a lost soul but that’s no reason to flinch? Who cares if his smile looks like the gateway to hell?

Alec and Magnus flirting like no other and touching and cuddling and being a regular couple touching without any dying.

Ragnor: ... it’s real? IT”S REAL?

Catarina: what i can’t believe is real is your doubt. Oh ye of little faith.

Ragnor: you think i have faith in Magnus’ ability to keep a partner alive?

Catarina: i meant your faith in me

Ragnor: now in that, i will admit i have made a grave error. I never should have doubted you.

*WHITE BANEBERRIES ARE ACTUALLY POISONOUS DO NOT MAKE JAM OUT OF THEM. Ragnor has a poison patch to make homemade goods for Magnus and so Cat can make antidotes ahead of time.

Ragnor still really has no idea what romance is. he just assumes whatever Magnus wants is what most romance is like. which logically, considering what an outlier Magnus already is, doesn't make sense. but Ragnor doesn't care and isn't interested in romance enough to actually think that through, no matter how smart he is.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #this eldritch delight #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #team immortal #catarina loss #ragnor fell #shadowhunters #team ride and don't die

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lorata · 2 days ago

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ok i was flippant yesterday bc i had been working outside in a heatwave all day and was tired but i'm still stuck on this. i'm not discoursing on the hunger games blog i promise but like. ok. professions are not ontologically evil. that's too easy. it's systems of oppression and the choices made by people in those professions and the ease with which said systems automate those choices.

acab doesn't mean that becoming a peacekeeper (cop) automatically strips every bit of good from you, it doesn't mean that you have now become an Evil Human and are irredeemable, it means you have chosen a profession that has, within the system you exist in, itself chosen to align with systems of oppression and power, and that your actions now feed into those systems no matter how good your intentions might be. hence -- no good cops because the only good ones are dead or burned out trying to 'be different' and left. it's not because becoming a cop you stepped through a doorway and the good inside you was magically burned away in some arcane ritual

people like it to be easy, they want evil to be something inherent and easy to point to but it's not! it's choices, it's always choices. in fiction especially but i hate to tell you it's in real life as well. someone is choosing to do that. they can also choose to stop. history is littered with the stories of people who -- damn the consequences -- chose to stop. like -- sorry i bang on about this constantly but everyone makes choices, and everyone can make ones that cause real, systemic harm, even people who adore their kids or bake pies for orphans or ride motorcycles and have ADHD, even you, even me. especially you, especially me.

which, obviously, is exactly the point with peacekeepers? sloane calls the cops when her stepdad abuses her and they have drinks with him instead. electra's brother and a bunch of kids are killed in a massacre bc they ran in guns blazing to the wrong address and the whole thing gets covered up. petra's PK dad was given the choice of lose his job or abandon his family and chose his job, and then she was injured in the arena and is THIS CLOSE to losing faith, so brutus takes her to all the local PK galas for her PR tours and she gets to feel proud and important and valuable and that reinforces her indoctrination instead. they provide her emotional wellbeing -- still supporting the regime. selene meanwhile dngaf about the rules but she loves her dad and her uncle and looks up to them, so why not follow in their footsteps, meanwhile (as xanify said) the program takes a kid with undiagnosed ADHD, channels all her energy into weapons training and uses her for Evil. they give her belonging -- still supporting the regime. emory's mom was a second-twenty local beat cop in a sleepy quarry town, never told emory any of the tales of when she worked out of district, only said be grateful for your district, so emory learned that peacekeepers are kind and honest and helpful and didn't interrogate that until MUCH later. alec and creed love their mother but when she has an uncanny ability to get the truth out of them joke that she used to be an interrogator -- this is a family joke that the boys don't think about, because it's not real to them at the time. it's real to adora and it's real to the people she tortured and that moment is meant to be a stumble.

joseph, i'm not even going to go there, except i guess to say that showing someone who participates within an oppressive system to be a complex and human person rather than one-dimensional Evil is not advocating for that system OR excusing their actions, it goes back to the choices thing again, trying to remove that little moment of comfort and disconnect that says 'only evil people do this and i am not evil therefore i am absolved of responsibility'

re: two vs the capitol PKs that comes from canon where plutarch says that in the capitol getting sent to the PKs is a punishment for like, debt or minor crimes or whatever, but in two it's an actual industry, so i just assumed that the capitol PKs are shipped off to the ass end of nowhere until their sentence is commuted (like snow in tbosas). they don't have the same training or indoctrination into the system so they'd mostly just be pissed off and bitter and apathetic

(lol my wife also adds: some of the above comparison is the difference between a local cop in rural tennessee and the NYPD -- PKs in the capitol have way more power and privilege and will be far more disconnected from the people than rural ones; someone closer to their community will be far more likely to connect and empathize with the people there, which is also why I have the elite PKs (scouts) rotated so often, so they don't manage to make those connections)

so like. yeah, it is propaganda, the whole district is propaganda, and all of the characters are fed it from the day they're born. but there's also meant to be that layer of interrogation of the concept

on that note i am just an author trying to make a story land and it's not going to land with everyone! if people read it and feel like it's not doing that, if they feel like i'm giving a pass to the PKs because i write about characters who are good people then that's valid!

#we must be killers: tales from district 2

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tidbit-fanfic · 4 months ago

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i want my tiddies played with so bad right now. So here we go:

all of Jensen’s characters (including the man himself): are tittie guys. you can’t tell me they wouldn’t just sit there, looking at em, feeling em, sucking em, the whole nine yards. probably at least half of them have an obsession with your nipples.

Dean’s a fucking menace about it too. You even mention getting them pierced and he’s either a) learning how to do it, or b) forking over the cash and insisting he comes with. He’s gonna hate the hands off time, but I don’t think he’ll complain if you just let him start at em.

Oh god. Russell and Soldier Boy are ten times worse. Nine times out of ten you’re gonna find them buried in your tits, not a care in the world. Their screensavers are definitely one of those pics (that you made them take) of them holding your tits, not a shirt or bra in sight. And when you let them fuck them? I’m praying for you, because damn are they going to be pushing for that constantly.

Speaking of Soldier Boy…he’s snorting off of them like crazy. Might even just lay face down in them, borderline suffocating himself before he comes back for air. Absolutely insane for your nipples to. If his lips aren’t wrapped around a cigarette or a joint, they’re sucking on you like crazy. Get the balm out bestie, you’re gonna need it. And don’t you dare expect to walk away without hickeys and bite marks.

Oh Beau, sweet sweet Beau. He’s blown an entire paycheck on lingerie for your top half, and swears he’d do it again in a heartbeat. He’s so tender with them, longing stares, gentle touches. And when they’re covered in lace? He’s a goner. He’ll spend hours playing with them, not even caring about the raging hard on he’s sporting. And when you get tender near your period? He’s rubbing them, cooing up at you, his pretty girls. You wear something with cleavage and he’s fighting the urge to just pull it down, to kiss on his two girls. And yes, he refers to them as the ‘other’ women in your guys’s relationship.

What’s Tom doing here? Good question. Probably the same thing Alec and Jake are doing. Face buried in them, nursing on your pretty titties for comfort. It’s so bad, they need it, can’t you see? They’ll be whining and begging you to just let them suck on em. They’ll be so good, they promise.

And then there’s Boaz. I swear he’s been begging you for weeks now to get them pierced. Probably burned all your bras at some point, and no, he doesn’t give a fuck that they were expensive. He wants to see your nipples peaking out through his shirts that you steal. And yes, he’s gonna sneak up behind you and play with them through the fabric at any chance you give him.

JESUS.

#dean winchester x reader #tids tidbits #dean x reader #beau arlen x reader #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jackles #boaz priestly #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #russell shaw #tom hanniger x reader #alec mcdowell #jake gray #imagines #someone sedate me

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allwormdiet · 9 months ago

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Worm Cast Impressions (Arcs 1 to 7)

Easy money says some of these characters are about to fucking die so I'm pausing now to jot down my impressions of everybody who's managed to make an impact (and one or two characters whose lack of impact is kind of impressive)

Undersiders

Taylor Hebert: Character of all time. Simultaneously sanest and least sane person in the entire universe. Deeply concerned about keeping hold of her moral core, constantly innovating in ways to inflict violence on her enemies real and imagined. Has never fully finished thinking her actions through once in her entire life, people keep thinking she's the most cautious girl they know. Her first kiss was partly because she liked the boy and partly because she wanted to piss off her bully. I am cheering for her more often than not and I am so scared of what this story is going to do to her.

Brian Laborn: I want to study him in a lab. Team leader entirely by default, as near as I can tell. Hates using violence as a means of control, really good at using violence as a means of control, seems to default to using violence as a means of control when he's upset. I don't think he's normal about women. Desperately trying to be so so so boring, thinks he's perfectly rational even though he is just as unhinged as his teammates, I suspect that he has built a mental prison with twenty layers of protection around all thoughts that would suggest he is anything other than Normal and Strong and Reliable. Maybe turned on by efficient displays of violence?

Lisa Wilbourn: She is so charming and I am so scared of what's actually going on in her head. I think Taylor's best friend but definitely her biggest enabler. Stop lying and let me know what is going on in your head, I know more about Alec and Rachel than I know about you. Concerned that she's only nominally concerned about Coil being a heinous fucker. Desperately hoping the air can be cleared so I stop worrying about whether she's going to destroy Taylor or something. She has to know Taylor is a wannabe hero.

Alec: The fact that he's really only done one thing that I consider morally in the wrong is kind of incredible when looking at the fact that he's a recovering sex cult enforcer who started living something approaching a normal human life as a homeless preteen. He's had three years to jury rig a sense of humanity and morality mostly on his own and the end result is a selfish lazy jerk, and yet the fact that this is what he's managed to come up with on his own is, without sarcasm, worthy of a fucking prize. He's actually really good at this all things considered. Actually a little bummed that he didn't oppose Coil for the whole Dinah creepfest.

Rachel Lindt: Rachel Lindt is maybe the best character so far. Autistic dog girl who only tolerates human society so she can better feed and care for her animals. I'd say something like "I'd kill for her" but there's no way I could do that any better than her dogs and she'd call me stupid. Only thing against her at this point is the slur usage, which is rough to deal with, but I suspect part of that is just being written in 2011.

Loved Ones

Danny Hebert: You sad bastard. Please survive long enough to reconcile with your daughter. I know he can't provide any material support for the problems his daughter has been dealing with, that the bullies are too well-protected and there's basically nothing that he can do about parahuman shit, but I wish she would allow him to be there for her. Maybe he'd be uncool about it, sure, but maybe not. Makes me sad to think about.

Aisha Laborn: This girl is in dire need of someone to have her back and also, like, pay attention to her; Brian is the closest one to actually doing it but I don't think his best efforts are enough. I know she's gonna be an Undersider in the future so hopefully I get to have a more thorough impression of her, and one that's not marred by the fucking Mercedes metaphor, Jesus Christ that was a rough passage to get through.

Protectorate

Armsmaster: I'd probably like him more if he wasn't so up his own ass about being in charge and earning glory. My suspicion is that he's basically a good guy with some bad habits that nobody can check him on, which has spiraled out of control. Might unironically consider a teenage criminal his nemesis, which is funny but not a great sign of his priorities.

Miss Militia: My prior complaints about her possibly inappropriate response to holding Regent hostage are entirely subsumed by the fact that the last twenty-six years of her life have been lived on terms set by the Protectorate. She was nearly devoured by the machinery of empire and now she's become a component of empire that feeds upon others, and she hasn't even realized it. She never had a goddamn chance.

Velocity: Nothing to really say about him, except there has to have been a way to design his costume so that a teenager with unaugmented strength couldn't take him out with a single blow to the testicles.

Assault and Battery: The name theming feels a bit weird (what, if they got a third would their name be Coercion?) but whatever. I like the idea of a duo with complementary powers, I guess, but there's not really much else here.

Dragon: On the one hand she's in charge of the Birdcage and is friends with Armsmaster, but on the other hand she clearly hates the Birdcage for what it's made her complicit in, and maybe Armsmaster is good to have as a friend. Jury's out, unlike on Canary.

Wards

Gallant: The best way I can think to describe this guy is "blandly nice." It's like if "inoffensive" could be a personality trait. Glory Girl could do better than him, probably, but to be fair she could also do a lot worse.

Clockblocker: I think he's the funny one? Or at least the deliberately unserious one, which is the same thing. The first character confirmed to have developed entomophobia as a result of Skitter, probably not the last. Stopped a bomb from destroying the East Coast which feels like it should get more attention.

Vista: World's most powerful thirteen-year-old. Who deployed her to stop that bomb and fight those Nazis. I want names.

Kid Win: No sense of proportion on this kid, my god. Shooting a laser cannon meant to deal with threats that are theoretically rated higher than Lung into a bank filled with hostages? He's lucky nobody died.

Shadow Stalker: What the actual fuck is going on with her. Who hunts other human beings with broadhead arrows? That's for making someone bleed to death. If she was doing it to the fucking Nazis then that'd be fine, but no, it's Grue and Taylor we've either seen or heard about her getting rough with. Either the Protectorate knows she's a maniac and is letting it rock until she gets herself caught, or else they don't realize what she's doing in which case someone is not doing their job.

Browbeat: Absolute nonentity, to the point it's almost distracting. The description of the bank fight suggests he lost to Regent, which I think means that Regent got close enough to a guy with super strength to knock him out with a taser and didn't get his block knocked off. No wonder the Protectorate wants to trade him out, dude's got nothing going on.

PRT

Director Piggot: I don't like the organization she works for, because the vibes beyond the city level feel rancid, but for Piggot I mostly just sympathize with her. She's trying to corral a bunch of teenagers and adults, who all have some kind of horrific trauma shaping them and also giving them powers that are baseline as dangerous as a fucking gun, into something resembling a fully effective government agency, with no signs of support from the other cities or the higher-ups despite the fact that the literal fucking Nazis have her heroes outnumbered and have apparently had it that way for decades. Let this woman take a vacation or something.

New Wave

Glory Girl: Absolute nerd who seems to love being a superhero, and also making Nazis ragdoll in her spare time. I'd love to end it there, but unfortunately she's got some bad habits; girl desperately needs to kill the cop in her brain and get her impulsiveness under control, the fact that she ragdolled the Nazi on accident and threatened to pull favors in the judicial system to send a first-time offender (and Tattletale) into the Birdcage don't reflect great on her ability to keep a lock on things in high-stress situations.

Panacea: Pathetic girl who is clearly sitting on a pressure cooker of issues. I know what those all are but I'm not going to comment on any of it until we're actually there. For now it's mostly just a pity thing.

Azn Bad Boys

Lung: I was harsh on his characterization at first but I'll admit with time and context I'm not nearly as quick about that. He definitely still sucks, the guy literally murders his lieutenant as a matter of bruised pride and making his life more convenient. Also still cannot shake the feeling that he was basically idling in Brockton Bay for most of his career with the kind of power he has on tap.

Bakuda: She's a monster, but that also kind of oversimplifies things. She's clever, arrogant, grandstanding, and gleefully violent, even as she has the capacity to admire the architecture that another Tinker has crafted and to treat Lung as something resembling a friend. I don't think there's a world where she triggers and is, like, a good person, but I think this was one of the worse lives she could have wound up living. Also, y'know, she's dead.

Empire Eighty-Eight

Kaiser: Rancid smug piece of Nazi shit. Stupid too btw, why are you bothering with street-level robberies and extortion when you own a fucking pharmaceutical corporation? Why are you fighting out in the streets and meeting with other Nazi capes when you could be acting through proxies and bankrolling far-right parahuman cells across the country? Like I'm glad he isn't smart enough to think like that but fuck me.

Purity: Like, actually for real dumb as a bag of hammers. Kaiser barely has to try to wrap her back around his finger and she divorced him; Tattletale barely has to try to get her to back down and she thinks Tattletale exposed her identity to the public. Truly nothing in that skull of hers.

Hookwolf: Nazi capes fuck off

Stormtiger: Nazi capes fuck off

Cricket: Nazi capes fuck off

Rune: Nazi capes fuck off

Night: Nazi capes fuck off

Fog: Nazi capes fuck off

Wait does Coil's gang genuinely not have a name

Coil: Everything about this guy just pisses me the fuck off honestly. He presents himself as some kind of lesser evil, a firm but gentle hand that can guide all facets of the city to a brighter future, but he doesn't have the intelligence or vision to back any of it up; he displays nothing but brute force manipulation tactics involving bribery and blackmail, he's tunnel-visioned and cruel to the point that it ruins his own long-term plans, and before I forget everything about his thing with Dinah gives me fucking hives and I want to beat his skull in with my bare hands. I hope Taylor gets to kill him. Oh, or maybe Dinah.

Nameless sniper: Actively cooler and more competent than Coil.

Travelers

Trickster: genuinely cannot trust a man wearing a top hat in the year 2011, not even as a bit

Sundancer: what the fuck went so wrong with your life that your power is The Fucking Sun

Faultline and Co.

Faultline: Ironically not a super strong read off of her in terms of personality. Seems generally pretty cool going off of how she interacts with and leads her team. Very funny that she has a rivalry with Tattletale.

Newter: Little worried that he's selling his body secretions as a drug to other teenagers but if a parahuman only has one red flag that's pretty good actually

Gregor the Snail: This dude rocks, actually, love the vibes he gives off. Shame that people hate him for being fat and a mutant.

Labyrinth: Would like to see more of her when she's back in reality, otherwise not much to go off of. Cool power.

Other Parahumans

Scion: Fucking creepy

Marquis: probably Panacea's dad, calling that shot.

Paige McAbee: Justice For Paige McAbee.

Dinah Alcott: not really a character yet so much as a particularly horrifying MacGuffin but Jesus Christ what an awful fate

Uber and Leet: Gamers should be more oppressed. Also they beat the shit out of sex workers on a livestream and aren't considered serious enough threats to be consigned to the Birdcage, which feels pretty bad.

Heartbreaker: Haven't even met this guy and he sounds fucking awful. Please god somebody take him down.

Normal Humans

Emma Barnes: I need to understand what's wrong with her. Something happened that gave her the temperament and skillset of a CIA torture technician before freshman year of high school and she turned that onto her best friend for reasons totally unbeknownst to us.

Sophia Hess: I don't know I feel that the one bully who does the most physical harm and acts the most aggressive is the black one. Pretty bad I think. She's also clearly got something going on in her head but tbh that feels like it's going to be more straightforward than whatever is wrong with Emma.

Madison Clements: I feel like she's just here so that Taylor could be bullied without overusing the other two. What's your stake in this? Why do you give a shit? Does it matter? Probably not.

Mr. Gladly: I hated every teacher I ever knew who acted like this and I hate him even more for being utterly useless in protecting a student from blatant harassment. Fuck off.

#wormblr #worm liveblogging #parahumans #cast impressions #checkpoint

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regrettorisotto · 3 months ago

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original post

THEO RAEKEN 💳💥

FUCK YEAH LETS GO

Sexuality Headcanon: gayyyyy definitely gay

Gender Headcanon: cis man, but i fear i only need one semi good argument that parallels the dread doctors' surgical involvement as a trans allegory and Id be hooked

A ship I have with said character: thiam is my absolute favorite ship 🙂‍↕️ (but I've recently read a Brett x Liam x Theo fic that was sooo good too)

A BROTP I have with said character: Theo and Brett as best friends Oh My Goddddd its so good. But also Theo and Alec as brothers 🙂‍↕️

(i genuinely love Theo with so many characters. Theo and Malia spending time fully shifted and teasing each other constantly, Theo and Stiles, Theo and Argent or the Sheriff. Theo and Nolan!! Theo and Corey even after everything Theo did to him)

A NOTP I have with said character: romantically? Theo and Stiles. But really anything that doesnt involve Liam tbh. Those two are just soulmates. (I am a multishipper tho so again, give me a convincing argument and i will ship anything)

A random headcanon: he will spend a lot of time full-shifted, especially at the McCall House. Will lounge around on the couch as a wolf, will take all the absentminded pets and cuddles from everyone walking by. Will chase Malia or Liam or Alec through the house and backyard. Will fall asleep with his head on Melissas or Nolans lap. (First time it happened Nolan spent a good 5 minutes staring at him in wonder.)

General Opinion over said character: if you havent noticed by now; i absolutely love him. Hes one of my favorites if not the favorite. Hes so so so interesting and i could go on and on about headcanonss and the likes.

#thank you so much for asking #omg i didnt know i needed this so much kxjdhsbsj #theo raeken #thiam #liam dunbar #teen wolf #teen wolf mtv #scott mccall #alec #nolan holloway #malia tate #stiles stilinski #alec teen wolf #brett talbot #teen wolf headcanons

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whatever-imagines · 10 months ago

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Can you we please get more Butch Wolverine?! Please?

Merry Christmas.

Literally

Rated: G

——

Logan scratch the back of her neck uncomfortably while staring at the party goers. There were too many sounds, too many smells, too much… everything happening all at once. She craved the solitude of her room; the distraction of you came to mind, maybe she could convince you to ditch the Christmas party all together and hide away from everyone.

Logan’s keen eyes seek you out and find you in the crowd. You’re dressed nice, cute; carrying a bag of presents as you distribute gifts to your friends and teammates. You looked so happy and thrilled to make everyone else happy and thrilled.

On second thought, maybe Logan should just pull a lone wolf card and leave by herself. You seemed to be enjoying yourself too much to have her pull you away for selfish reasons.

As she turns away though, she hears you call her name, hears you wrangling through the crowd, and Logan is equal parts thrilled and worried. What if you try and make her stay? Or worse, join in on the festivities.

“Lo! Logan, wait a sec, I have something for you!”

The Wolverine groans lowly. It wasn’t that she was hard to shop for, it’s just that people misinterpret what she wants, and then she feels bad about not wanting the useless crap given to her.

“Listen princess-“ she starts to protest, starts to stop you, but she couldn’t get a third word out before you toss a very small package at her.

Logan catches it mid air, effortlessly. The wrapping was buffalo plaid, no bows or tinsel or extra dress. With a questioning eyebrow, Logan gives you a look.

You stare at her all starry eyed and excited. “Well? Open it! It’s your present!”

The wolverine shift her step. “I’m not big on gifts-“

“Open it, Logan.” You demand.

The firmness of your voice makes her relent. It’s a rare occasion to see you stand up to her about anything.

With deft fingers, the wrapping was removed, unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and once the small black box was revealed, Logan worries the worst, jewellery.

Sucking in a silent anxious breath, she opens the box.

“A leather keychain?” Logan questions, also taking not of a silver knob looking thing attached to the ring.

“Open the leather bit, it’s a cigar cutter!” You exuberantly explain.

Logan pauses as you continue to ramble. “You always use your claws and I know sometimes you’re in a place you just can’t pop them out, so I got you this nice one instead! And that little silver one is a cigar puncher, you can unscrew it to use it.” You go into detail, moving closer to show off the present you thoughtfully gathered for your companion. “There in this keychain so you can add it to your carabiner. Merry Christmas!”

Logan stares at you intensely. This was… honestly the perfect gift for her. True, she uses her claws mostly to cut her cigars on the road, and if that wasn’t an option, her trusty pocket knife was always there, even if it did a shitty job. This was well thought out and personalised to her specifically. You even got a puncher, another form of to open up certain kinds of cigars. And in a fashion she could carry it with her constantly.

A little reminder of you and your thoughtfulness.

Logan purses her lips together to think carefully about what she’ll say next, all the while you stand there, pretty and perfect, waiting for her to respond.

“Thank you.” She settles on. No jokes, no smart Alec comment. You deserved sincerity at this moment. “I didn’t get you… anything-“

“Well, do you like your gift?” You ask.

She did, Logan really did. She loved it, she loved how the leather smelt like the sweat from your palms, you must’ve messed with it greatly before giving it to her.

“Yes, but-“

“Then that’s the best present you could’ve gotten me!” you chirp, delighted.

Logan wants to respond smoothly, wants to give a compliment suave enough it makes up for not having anything physical to give you, but you’re called away by a smiling and laughing Jean.

Before you leave, you rush Logan for a quick hug, which she reciprocates. The scent of you fills her and makes her almost giddy.

‘Merry Christmas, indeed.’ She thinks idly, looking for mistletoe hanging around and planning on pulling you under it.

#butch lesbian #butch wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #x reader

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rheanyraaaa · 5 months ago

Text

Water Lilly Part 15

Robb Stark x Frey! Reader

Enemies To Lovers

a/n: mentions of feeling depressed and abandoned and rape/ assault

——————————————————————————

The camp was unusually quiet as you sat by the fire, wrapped in your heavy black cloak. The weight of mourning clung to you, thick and suffocating, like the storm clouds that had been gathering overhead. Robb sat across from you, balancing a stick in his hands as he tried, for what felt like the hundredth time, to coax a smile from you.

“You know,” he started, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Grey Wind once stole a whole roast chicken from the cooks. They were chasing him around for hours, waving knives and spoons like madmen.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed, before looking back at the fire.

“Not even a smile?” he asked, his tone teasing but tinged with frustration. “Come on. I thought you’d at least laugh at the image of a direwolf dodging a butcher.”

“I’m not in the mood for laughter, Robb,” you replied, your voice cold and distant.

He sighed, running a hand through his auburn curls. “I know you’re grieving, but Alec wouldn’t have wanted you to lose yourself like this. He’d have wanted you to live, to—”

“Don’t tell me what Alec would’ve wanted,” you snapped, standing abruptly. “You didn’t know him like I did.”

The tension between you crackled like the impending storm. Robb stood as well, his expression hardening. “I’m trying to help you, but you’re shutting me out at every turn. You need to get away from this camp, from all of this. Go to Winterfell. Rest. Be safe.”

You shook your head. “No. I’m staying here. My place is with you.”

“Your place,” he said firmly, “is with our child. Do you think I can focus on leading a war if I’m constantly worrying about you and the baby? Winterfell is the safest place for you.”

“I’m not leaving,” you repeated, your voice rising. “Don’t you dare try to send me away like I’m some burden to be dealt with!”

Before Robb could respond, a deafening clap of thunder rolled across the sky, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the camp. The sound was so loud it seemed to shake the very ground beneath you.

Your breath hitched, panic gripping your chest as the storm grew fiercer. Another crack of thunder sent you stumbling backward, your legs trembling. Memories you had buried deep surfaced all at once: the howling winds, the cries of wildlings, the searing pain of their assault as you journeyed to the Twins at twelve years old.

“Stop,” you whispered to yourself, but the memories didn’t listen.

“Are you alright?” Robb’s voice cut through the haze, but when the next bolt of lightning struck, you lost all composure. You ran forward without thinking, burying yourself in his chest.

He caught you, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. “It’s just a storm,” he said softly, his tone laced with concern.

You clung to him, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic as tears began to stream down your face. “It’s not just the storm,” you choked out.

Robb stiffened slightly, leaning back to look at you. “What is it, then? Tell me.”

You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue, before finally whispering, “When I was twelve, coming back from Dorne… wildlings attacked us. They—they hurt me, Robb.”

His body went rigid, his arms tightening around you instinctively. “Hurt you how?” he asked, his voice low and trembling with barely contained rage.

“They raped me,” you said, the admission breaking something inside you. “The storm that night… it was just like this one.”

For a moment, he said nothing, the silence filled only by the pounding of rain on the tent and the occasional rumble of thunder. Then, softly, he murmured, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You nodded against his chest, unable to speak as sobs wracked your body.

Robb’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. “No one will ever hurt you like that again,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “Not while I’m here.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, tears streaking your face. “I don’t want your pity, Robb.”

“It’s not pity,” he said firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “It’s care. And respect. And love.”

His words stunned you into silence. Then, as if compelled by an invisible force, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his. He kissed you back, gently at first, but with growing urgency as the storm raged on outside.

For the first time in weeks, the darkness inside you lifted, even if only slightly.

The next morning, the storm had passed, but its effects lingered.

“I’ll go to Winterfell,” you told Robb as you prepared to leave. “But only because I’m choosing to. Not because you ordered me.”

He nodded, his expression both relieved and regretful. “I’ll join you when I can.”

You spent the morning saying your goodbyes to the soldiers and the camp. When it came time to leave, Robb helped you onto your horse, his hand lingering on yours.

“Stay safe,” he said, his voice low.

“You too,” you replied, your eyes meeting his. And with that, you rode off, leaving behind the man who had slowly begun to piece you back together

——————————————————————————

tags:

@maysileeewrites @yeahnohoneybye @samieree @nervouschaosgladiator

#asoiaf #robb stark #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x frey reader #robb stark x oc

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im-out-of-it · 6 months ago

Text

part 11 of season 2, episode 8 continued MY POOR ALEC “love is a devil”

155. ALEC WE CANT LOSE ONE OF OUR FAVS

156. you’re not a good shadowhunter clary, Alec is one of the strongest people for enduring Maryse, yourself, and jace and every expectation thrown at him, and how was Alec supposed to know that a demon was waiting to show up? he’s not perfect but at least he takes responsibility and tries to be a better person. I hate hallucinated clary more than original clary. AND I FULLY GET THAT ITS INSECURITIES TALKING BUT I STILL DONT LIKE IT

MAGS RUNNING IN HOT AND THEN QUICKLY TOUCHING ALECS FACE TO MAKE SURE HES OKAY AS CAN BE 🥹

157. seconds before 😭

158. MY POOR ALEC

159. GET AWAY FROM ALEC CLARY NOW!!!!!!!!!

160. Maryse actually has my vote on something. she’s actually defending Alec

161. and the whole time after, Alec is like what the fuck just happened POOR ALEC

162. I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care if clary was hallucinating, Alec didn’t need to live through this over and over again like leave the poor man alone

163. they spent so long on this storyline but what about people making amends for the shit they put Alec through? there’s literally zero storylines on that

164. Magnus’s trauma over having to relive his trauma again gets what maybe two or three episodes before they just leave it alone??????

165. and what makes me the most mad is that clary and jace have done way worse but it’s hardly ever talked about or anything is done about it because they’re the main characters. Have literally doesn’t do any investigating, takes Valentine at his word, and is responsible for many downworlders dying and then has the fucking audacity to walk around as if he didn’t do anything wrong. Alec will probably forever have guilt over something he didn’t have any consent in doing and yeah it makes me mad that they did Alec so dirty here

I’ll start the 12th part shortly

#anti cassandra clare #anti cc #just my stupid opinions #alec lightwood #magnus bane #anti jace herondale #shadowhunters tv #show alec is superior #show magnus is superior #show malec is superior #shadowhunter show is superior #putting anti cc on all show shadowhunter posts because i don’t want an pro book fans hating on my shit #i don’t even care if she is possessed or whatever quit being rude to Alec #just stop making Alec go through so much #if you want characters to go through shit fine but make them all be held accountable then #is super insulting for Alec and Magnus to constantly go through it while jace and clary can do whatever #Jace was literally partially responsible for downworlders dying and he walked around as if he did nothing wrong #marking this as 2x08

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icey--stars · 7 months ago

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Hey I saw in your bio that your requests are open? Pls ignore if they aren't 🙏🏼 but I had this idea for Azris, and as the queen of Azris angst, I knew I had to at least share it with you

So I've been watching the Shadowhunters show (idk if you've seen it) but basically there's this seen where Jace gets possessed by some spirit thing and starts attacking his best friend, Alec. And they have a whole fight scene and it ends with Jace stabbing Alec with an arrow. All the while the ghost thing is talking THROUGH Jace and saying stuff like "Your boy's in there, screaming, begging me not to do this." And Alec is all like "it's ok, it's not your fault.". (I would highly recommend searching that scene up, it's the best angst inspo and I'm horrible at explaining)

Anyways imagine that buttt...AZRIS!!! What if after they are officially mated and everything, running their court, a new threat emerges that basically possess Eris who then attacks Azriel, maybe he stabs him, maybe there's a bit of burning involved (pls I'm sorry I know it sounds fucked up, but I love a good angst)

And then when Eris gets rid of whatever is controlling, how would they heal from that, like move on and stuff cuz I can imagine Eris would be feeling hella guilty and Az would want to forgive him but still be shaken up himself too...

Anyways if you do decide to write you can change it up as you like, I know whatever you come up with will be AMAZINGGG

You Would Never Hurt Me

Azriel is at a weekly family dinner when suddenly his bond with Eris alerts him to danger. What will happen when he realizes his mate is being controlled by another? What lengths will he go to? - 5.3k words of emotional pain.

Author's Note: Queen of Azris Angst? we sure? y'know what... i'll take it XD. I took a few creative liberties, but actually not too many... but I hope you enjoy :D

ouch my soul hurts. genuinely hurt me to write this but it just hurt so good. Also, I did end up changing the part about Az hesitating to forgive him because he was shaken up purely because the situation was so much more angsty with Az desperately trying to convince Eris everything is okay.

TW: Depictions of violence, mentions of blood, SEVERE burns, Azriel’s canon backstory, mind control trope, descriptions of severe injuries

also this was not edited very much. apologies for any mistakes!

{ ao3 link } { Part 2 } { Part 3 }

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

The newest threat to Prythian had been biding their time for a while. Azriel wasn’t going to lie that he was nervous. He and his spies in both courts he had close connections to had been unable to find anything of use. The only thing that they seemed to know was that this enemy was intelligent and not without power. They didn’t even know if it was a fae from the continent, Prythian or even Hybern. All reports had come up useless in the grander scheme of things.

“Az, if you keep that frown on your face, it might just become permanent,” Cassian teased. He’d gone to the weekly dinner at Velaris this week. This time, without Eris. Normally he’d come along, but Eris had decided he wanted to finish up some of the paperwork and work on training one of the newest ghost hound yearlings some more commands.

Azriel couldn’t help but feel tense over the matter since he knew he’d seen more signs of the enemy closer to the Autumn Court than anywhere else. It had his metaphorical hackles standing on end almost constantly.

Cassian nudged his shoulder with his knuckles. “Come on, Az,” his brother urged. “Relax a moment. I know you’d rather Eris be here, but he’s going to be just fine. He’s a damn High Lord of fire. I think he can manage a night without your shadows surrounding him.”

Azriel sighed, nodding in agreement. “Sorry, Cass,” He mused. “Something just feels off tonight.”

“How so?” Rhys questioned from across the table, still facing Nyx as he tried to bargain with the child over eating his greens.

Azriel shrugged. “The shadows are jittery. The darkness doesn’t bring comfort. Something is just off,” he replied.

Rhys hummed in acknowledgement. Feyre replied, “Is it about that threat?” She asked carefully. The bags under her eyes were evidence that the little Heir to the Night Court was still having trouble sleeping since his visit to the Illyrian camps.

“I’m not entirely sure. But I’ve seen more signs of them near the Autumn Court than anywhere else,” he admitted. “I wish we knew what they were capable of at the very least.”

“Whatever it is, Az, I’m sure we can handle it,” Rhys said, looking up toward him. “We’ve handled far worse than one crazed individual. But if you’re nervous and you’re not even going to eat what’s on your plate until you get back to your mate, none of us will fault you for leaving.”

Nesta nodded from where she sat beside Cassian, but she was also just playing with her foot with her fork. “That, or you can kidnap him and force him to attend dinner and book club,” Nesta mused, smirking as she glanced over at him.

Azriel scoffed in amusement. “I’m not so sure he’d appreciate that, Nes.”

Nesta chuckled. “No, but it’d make your sorry ass stop brooding for five minutes.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, turning away. He put his fork down. They weren’t wrong to say he couldn’t stomach food with this… itch of some sort bugging the hell out of him.

Suddenly, the bond twitched inside of him. Not a good twitch either.

Azriel sat up straight immediately, putting a hand to his chest when more emotions began flowing through. Worry. Confusion. Fear.

Azriel stood up as quickly as he could, shadows flaring out.

“Azriel,” Rhys mused from the table. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s in danger,” Azriel breathed.

Rhys immediately stood up. “In danger? Eris? The Lord of Fire?”

“Don’t make jokes, Rhys,” he begged, breathing a bit heavier. “Don’t follow me yet. The wards will stop you. Just… keep a tab on my mind. I have a feeling what this is. And it’s not a nightmare.”

Then he winnowed, feeling Rhys gently prod into his mind to stay as a presence just on the outside of his mind so he’d know what’s happening too.

Azriel followed the bond, sprinting as fast as possible through the Forest House until-

Eris was in his office.

But then something stopped. The bond stopped. Empty.

Azriel burst in, panting terribly as he spotted Eris standing at his desk.

“Eris?” He questioned hesitantly.

Eris turned around, but his eyes were distant. Azriel’s heart dropped like a stone when he heard emotionless words come out of his mate’s mouth. “Eris is not here, Illyrian mongrel.”

Azriel squared his shoulders, pressing his already glowing siphon to form his armor over his body. He crouched down imperceptibly. “Eris, this is not a funny joke.”

That was just his denial talking though. Eris had never called him an Illyrian mongrel.

“Oh, he doesn’t?” The male asked hauntingly. “Are you so sure? I know you can’t be… being a bastard and all.”

Something slammed into his mental walls and Azriel stumbled back just as Rhys seemed to reel back in his mind.

Azriel gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes open as he stared into Eris’s eyes, waiting for the familiar clarity to come back.

“You’re pathetic,” Eris snarked. “One measly hit and it almost took you down? Weak.”

Rhys seemed to be doing something akin to building a second wall from within his mind, battling off something. Azriel couldn’t spare any mental energy to figure out what it was.

“Eris… you need to come back,” He said, but it really came out more like pleading.

Flames sparked on Eris’s palms and Azriel couldn’t help his flinch. Though his mate had been helping him overcome his fear as of late, something… something felt wrong about this.

“Eris,” he warned, eyes drawn down to the fire unconsciously. “What are you doing?”

“My name is not Eris,” he hissed, stalking closer. A dagger summoned to Eris’s palm, the flame lighting up the dagger’s edges as if it was some glowing blade. If he hadn’t been so shocked over the loss of his bond and the fear for his mate, he would’ve thought it almost looked cool. But right now? It was downright terrifying.

The male leapt at him and Azriel raised up his arms in defense, dodging to the side with only a few centimeters to spare. He didn’t want to hurt Eris. That was on the forefront of his mind.

But what was he supposed to do when Eris was trying to hurt him?

“Eris,” he pleaded. “Come back to me.”

Eris chuckled, one of the ones reserved for the lords in the council when they were pissing him off. “You know, your mate is putting up quite the fight in here. He’s been trained against people like me, but clearly not like you and your little friend protecting you.”

Azriel spared the moment of suspension to ask Rhys: What’s happening? Who?

Daemati, was Rhys’s only response and it was said as if through gritted teeth.

Shit. Eris was being controlled by a daemati. And though he had faith in Rhys, he knew that the male didn’t have much practice in fighting his own kind.

Azriel’s shadows rose like asps preparing to strike above his shoulders, as if sensing that this was not their beloved mate. No. This was an enemy this time. But he couldn’t hurt what was his.

“Let him go,” Azriel snarled.

Eris put a finger to his chin, tilting his head as if considering the prospect before scoffing. “No.” Then Eris leapt at him again. Azriel hadn’t been prepared this time- too much in shock to truly focus. His shadows reached out to cover his mate’s wrists in a desperate attempt to try and return him back, but it didn’t stop the dagger from lodging itself deep in his shoulder and twisting.

Azriel couldn’t help the pained groan that escaped him. He flared his wings and pushed forward quickly, grabbing Eris’s shoulders and pushing the male back. Though they were of equal strength, Azriel was stronger physically if they really tested themselves.

But the daemati had control over Eris’s magic at that moment and Azriel couldn’t help his yelp when the flames suddenly engulfed his hands. He wanted to scream and run, to get into the sky and never return-

He couldn’t though. This was his mate.

Azriel felt tears dripping out of his eyes as he pushed Eris back against a wall. “Come back to me,” he begged brokenly while staring into Eris’s beautiful fire-colored eyes.

“Please,” he continued.

Keep him held there, Rhys demanded in his mind. And release your shields.

Azriel really didn’t have the mental capacity to question Rhys at this moment, so he simply obeyed. The other daemati swept in, but Rhys met it head-on. Another presence joined the battlefield too- a softer type of darkness. Feyre.

A headache was beginning to bloom behind his temples at all the action occurring in his mind. More than anything though, his hands burned. The daemati was more distracted so the flames were certainly not as hot as they could be, but it still hurt.

Talk to him, Feyre ordered sternly. Bring your mate out of the fire.

Azriel let out a choked sob, his wings flaring behind him as he pressed toward Eris and rested his forehead against his mate’s. “Eris,” he begged. “I know this isn’t you. Come back to me. I know you wouldn’t-”

He cut off with a groan as the flames burned hotter. His flesh might be melting off to be honest. But he couldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever. Azriel let another sob tear out of his throat as he pressed desperately into Eris.

“Come back to me,” he pleaded brokenly. “This isn’t you, Eris. You’re my mate. You’re mine. And you would never hurt me.”

Let go now, Feyre yelled over whatever clashing was occurring on the battleground between their minds.

“I can’t,” Azriel sobbed. He couldn’t let Eris go. Not like this. Not now. He needed his mate to know he was there and he would forgive him.

Az, let him go before your hands melt off, Rhys snarled harshly.

Azriel sobbed and stumbled backward. Eris remained standing against the wall as Azriel curled his hands toward his chest, shadows curling around them quickly, providing a soothing cold touch to them.

He kept his eyes open, watching Eris and watching his eyes. There was a flicker of fire there. Just a flicker.

“Eris,” he said again. The eyes went distant again and he snarled at the daemati, hoping the bastard could hear him over all the clashing. “Let him go. Let my mate go. Let Eris go, you-”

He couldn’t come up with an insult that could encompass all the hate he felt toward the being at this moment.

The bond flickered and Azriel clutched his chest. That put an idea in his head and he immediately brought all the love he felt for the male in front of him and shoved it down the bond as forcefully as he could. As well as some determination he hoped Eris would interpret as ‘You’re better than it. Fight back. You’re mine.’

Eris suddenly collapsed against the wall, body slumping into the floor. Azriel rushed forward before his head could slam into it as well. He cradled the male in his lap, tears still pouring down his cheeks. Everything was too much and not enough. He needed Eris, and that was about the only thing he could interpret.

“Eris, Eris, Eris,” he began repeating, pushing the hair out of his mate’s face desperately even as his shadows reported the door slamming open and Rhys with Cassian came running in.

They tried to grab his arms and drag him away but he fought harshly. “No! Don’t make me leave him,” he begged them. He needed to know his mate would be alright.

“We’ll get him too, Az,” Cassian said, pulling even more. “Rhys will get him. Come on, before your hands-”

Azriel held onto Eris even more, not wanting to leave his mate alone and afraid. Even if he was unconscious now, he would wake up and feel regret over something that wasn’t even in his control. He knew he would. But Azriel needed to be there so he could comfort him.

“Azriel,” Rhysand commanded sharply. “Let him go. Go to Madja.”

He wanted to disobey the command so badly, but his strength gave out and Cassian scooped him up onto his feet. Rhys picked Eris up into his arms and then they were winnowing straight into Madja’s clinic. Someone must’ve warned her because she already had a bucket of cold water that Cassian forced his hands into.

“Stay still,” Cassian ordered when he tried to twist and see where Rhys was taking his mate. “You’ve got to cool your hands down,” He told him. “Eris is just fine. He’s going to get checked out by Madja. You are going to get healed before your hands scar even worse with more permanent damage. Do you realize your skin is melting off?”

“But Eris-” Azriel tried to protest.

“Do not make me order you again, Az!” Rhys called from the other room. He saw Feyre winnow in as well, running toward where Rhys was. And Azriel was stuck here, useless, with his hands in a goddamn bucket. He couldn’t even feel the pain in the wake of knowing his mate was hurt.

He sobbed through his teeth. This was worse than his brothers burning his hands. This was so much worse than even the worst injuries he’s sustained in war or his line of work.

Feyre suddenly came up to him and her gentle presence ghosted along the edges of his mind before soothing something he didn’t even realize was tearing him apart from the inside it seemed like. The headache eased slightly.

“Is he okay?” He asked, looking up at Feyre. She had the most caring expression on her face and he wanted it gone.

“Rhys is with him right now,” Feyre told him. “Madja is there too, but you’re the main concern right now. He’s only going to have mental wounds. But Rhys can fix it, don’t worry,” she added on quickly when his face dropped.

“How?” He asked. “That kind of-”

“We caught it early and Rhys saw what was damaged in the fight. It’s okay, Azriel. He’s going to be okay. Now we need to make sure your hands are going to be okay, alright? Breathe and keep that even head I know you have. Eris is okay.”

Azriel sighed and slumped against whatever was nearby in relief. It ended up being Cassian. He trusted Feyre. Eris was going to be okay. And that was the only thing that mattered.

“Come on, Az,” Cassian urged, holding him up gently while still keeping his hands dunked in the water. “Your panicking will not help him if he wakes up.”

Azriel breathed and his shadows came up to whisper assurances that Eris was in the other room on a bed with Rhys and Madja. Cared for. He forced his body to come back from whatever super-adrenaline state it had gotten itself into.

“That’s it,” Cassian encouraged. “That’s good, Az. Do you feel any pain yet?”

At the mention, yes. His hands burned and not in any sort of good way. He didn’t dare look into the water. He probably couldn’t anyway since it was bloody. That probably wasn’t a good sign. The stabbing in his shoulder hurt, but it was duller than his hands at the moment.

“Yes,” he gritted out, huffing out some breath to suck more in anew as the pain now took over his being.

“I’ll get Madja,” Feyre said.

“No-” He said. “Leave her with Eris. I’m okay.”

“Eris is unconscious and Rhys is fully capable of caring for him. I’ll go over there too to help. But you need healing.”

Azriel sighed, knowing this wasn’t something Feyre would allow so he gave up on the argument early. “Okay,” he breathed. “Make sure he’s alright. Please.”

Feyre left and Madja was walking in quickly. “Get your shadows to cover your own eyes,” She ordered. The shadows, not completely under his will at the moment, took initiative and covered his eyes while she pulled his hands out of the cold water. They were numb in some places and burning in others.

Madja let out a harsh breath. “Do not lift that blindfold,” she told him and then the burning returned tenfold and he knew she was pushing healing magic into his hands. Cassian kept him restrained even as he tried to keep screams from bubbling out of his throat.

Alas, he could only stop them for so long and they soon spilled out. He lost any and all breath in his lungs all too quickly. Probably a good thing. Cassian kept him in a firm hold which grounded him somewhat but it hurt.

When he was finally given a reprieve, he was halfway towards passing out. When the pain mostly receded to a harsh ache, he finally drew in breath and slumped back against Cassian with his eyes closed.

“Come on, Az,” Cassian encouraged. “Let’s get you over to Eris, alright? Madja will wrap your hands there.”

Azriel could barely spare a hum of acknowledgement before he was being manhandled to his feet and forced to walk on shaky knees with droopy eyelids. His shadows had dropped back down to his hands, covering them from sight. Maybe that was a good thing, he decided. As soon as he saw Eris, he tried reaching out for his mate, but Cassian slapped his arm down.

“You are not using your hands, Az. Sit your ass down,” Cassian ordered. His brother helped him get out of his armor and leathers so he was just in his undershirt and pants.

He was forced to sit on the stool nearby, but was allowed to scoot it as close as possible to Eris to lean down over the bed and rest his forehead against Eris’s skin, breathing his mate’s scent in. It calmed his nerves just enough for him to finally take a deep breath.

Madja came in and forced him to hold himself up for a few more minutes while she wrapped his hands in white bandages as well as his shoulder. Then he was allowed to rest. Rhys pulled away from Eris eventually and he perked up, looking at his brother.

“He’ll be alright,” Rhys assured him. “At most, he won’t remember the fight, which I’d say is a mercy.”

Azriel sighed in relief and rested his head back down into Eris’s now cold palm since he couldn’t hold it properly. There, he fell asleep.

–––––

Azriel didn’t know how much time passed when he awoke. His hands ached like none other and if he had to be honest: everything hurt. Apparently, almost having your mate be gone to mind control by a daemati gave you some really bad tension to deal with. Specifically in his shoulders which were always the hardest to get at. Impossible now because of the thick bandages on his hands. The stab felt as if it’d already healed over. Perks of Illyrian healing, he supposed.

He lifted his head from wherever he was laying and squinted when he looked to his left and saw an empty bed.

“Eris?” He said aloud, sitting up and glancing around more. Someone must’ve moved him to the bed. But where was his mate? Azriel needed to be with him.

Suddenly, a burst of calm exploded from his chest and Azriel gasped for breath, not even realizing he’d been holding it. The bond. Thank the fucking Cauldron it was back. It meant that Eris was awake and okay enough to not be… well, dying.

Azriel groaned as he stood up, flexing his wings out behind him as he stared down at his hands. For Madja to have wrapped them so much he couldn’t even move his wrists… he must’ve gotten burned quite badly, he deduced. But, priority number one was finding Eris.

He tugged on the bond once, slowly wandering out toward where Madja usually sat in her clinic.

Eris was beside her.

Azriel breathed deeply at last, relief coursing through his veins at the sight of his mate being awake and even having a conversation with Madja over something relating to some sort of bright orange plant that looked like fire. He stumbled his way over there as quickly as he could, wrapping his arms around Eris and pressing his nose into the junction of his neck and shoulder to breathe in his scent.

Eris, however, had frozen. And that sent ice barreling through Azriel. What had happened?

“Hi Az,” Eris said hesitantly.

Azriel pulled away immediately, coming around to see Eris from the front to try and discern what the problem was.

For some reason, he had a guilty look on his face. Not a joking one- no, it was similar to the one he had when he figured out he’d accidentally forgotten something in court which led to the death of some farmers. A broken sort of regret.

“Eris, what’s wrong?” Azriel asked, brows furrowed in concern. “What happened? Did someone do something before I woke up? I’ll kill them for you with or without my hands,” he said, rage already pooling in his heart at the thought of someone making his mate feel this sort of guilt.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Eris waved him off, averting his gaze to the ground. “Nobody did anything besides that damned daemati.”

“I’m already killing him,” Azriel said to try and assure his mate. “I’m going to find him, tear his head from his shoulders and put it on a pike. Give the body to the scavengers and the head can be a personal trophy until it decays.”

A small chuckle came out of his mate’s chest and Azriel warmed up considerably, glad he could at least get that out of Eris. A chuckle was a start.

“Come on, Eris,” Azriel said, bringing his bandaged hands up to cup Eris’s cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m not blind.”

Eris sighed and then gently grabbed Azriel’s forearms to hold his hands up. “This is what’s wrong,” he pointed out as if it was obvious.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. Then he realized. “Eris, these are not your fault. These are that bastard’s fault.”

“It was my fire that burned you, Az,” Eris argued, releasing his hands and standing up.

Madja stood as well. “I’ll let you two talk this out. Let me know if someone starts dying,” she says as she walks out.

Azriel looked at Eris, checking him from top down for any injuries or other apparent signs of his emotions. Both males had tells even if they were masters at hiding away.

“It was your fire controlled by that bastard,” Azriel argued, pressing forward. He paused when Eris backed up, even more concerned. It’d been centuries since Eris had backed away from his comfort.

“Eris,” he spoke softly. “I would’ve held you back even if my wings were burned off my shoulders. It is not your fault. Take away that guilt from your mind right fucking now. I could’ve let go the instant the daemati lit the flames, but guess what? I didn’t, did I?”

Eris looked sheepishly now and Azriel opened up his arms.

“It’s okay, Eris. You would never hurt me. I know that. You should already know that,” Azriel insisted. “My hands will heal in time. There’s a reason Madja is so esteemed as a healer. And I’m pretty sure she even got to the burns faster than the guards did when I was 8. The only reason I can speak about that night and not fear the flames is because of you.”

Eris now had tears running down his face and Azriel dared a step forward.

Eris didn’t move, but he didn’t come closer either. “I’m sorry,” Eris whispered, closing his eyes.

“You would never hurt me,” Azriel repeated.

“Your hands-”

“I don’t give a fucking shit about my hands,” Azriel cut him off. “I’d rather my entire arm be torn off than be in a world where you’re controlled by a daemati. Don’t you realize that? I would do anything to protect you. My hands being burned is the least of my worries.”

“Az, I still burned you. In the worst of places,” Eris argued.

“You did not burn me,” Azriel insisted. “You would never hurt me. Trust yourself on that, huh? Trust me on it at the very least.”

Eris choked on a sob and Azriel opened up his arms again. Finally, finally, his mate went stumbling into his comfort.

“I should have fought harder against his control,” Eris said, voice broken and muffled against Azriel’s shoulder. “I could have. But it was just so hard. It felt like everything in my mind had gone under ice, yet I could feel the heat escaping me. Burning you. I tried so hard and it didn’t work-“

“Shh…” Azriel hushed, holding Eris as tight as he could. “You did the best you could, Eris. The fact you even still remember the experience is a miracle in itself. Daemati can be very damaging. Can scratch memories. Rhys was able to repair them but I was so worried about you. You have no clue.”

Eris sobbed wetly into his shoulder and Azriel felt tears slipping down his own cheeks as well. He let his emotions flow freely over the bond. Eris’s were still a mix of guilt, but now it was more of a lost hopelessness than true guilt. More of a “I don’t know how to fix this” kind of look.

“There is nothing that you did wrong,” Azriel whispered. Eris hugged him tighter and he smiled, squeezing him back as well. His shadows were helping him give more force behind it since he was unable to use his hands and the damn plush of the bandages did not help.

“I don’t know what happened beyond the fact I burned you,” Eris admitted. “I was caught off guard since I was tired and waiting for you to come home. He just… snuck between my mental walls and latched on like a damn leech.”

“You need to rest more. Now that we know we’re dealing with a daemati, we need to keep mental shields sharp. But luckily we have some of the most powerful daemati on our side. It’s already two against one,” Azriel joked.

Eris chuckled and finally pulled away to meet Azriel’s eyes. “I’m going to help you heal your hands,” he declared. “I’ll help you with everything. Anything. Writing? Done. Massage or oil? Done.”

“If this is you trying to make up for a fake mistake, don’t,” Azriel said seriously.

“This is me helping my mate through an injury,” Eris replied, giving a small reassuring smile despite the obvious signs he’d been crying not even a few seconds ago.

“Good,” Azriel told him. “I’ll definitely take you up on the writing part. I’ve got to write down things about what happened. See if we can piece together clues. And maybe it’ll help you piece together your memory,” he added.

Eris nodded. “Anything,” he repeated.

“But first,” Azriel said, putting one bandaged hand up, “We’re going to bathe because we both stink.”

Eris couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from his chest and it made Azriel all the merrier. He loved making him laugh like this.

“Agreed,” his mate replied. “Maybe we should talk to Madja about the wrapping of your hands first?”

Azriel nodded in agreement. “Then a warm bath,” he added. “I may take you up on the massage you mentioned,” he joked. “My shoulders ache.”

“You were sleeping on a goddamn stool when I woke up,” Eris said, scoffing in amusement. “Of course your back is hurting, bat. You should have laid in the bed not even two feet away.”

“I needed to be close to you,” Azriel admitted. “I thought I wouldn’t sleep like the dead and be awake with you but…”

Eris chuckled. “You always sleep like the dead when your face is buried in my scent. Honestly, you shouldn’t have expected any differently.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. But the little banter also assured him that Eris was truly okay. At least for now, those thoughts of guilt had been warred against and lost.

Cassian came jogging in loudly suddenly and he sighed in relief when he spotted them. “Thank the fucking Cauldron you are both awake,” he panted. “Az? How are your hands?”

“Hurt, but they’re fine,” Azriel dismissed. “How bad were they?”

“You do not want to know,” Cassian replied.

“I would,” Eris spoke up. “After all, who knows how to heal burns better than the Fire Lord who deals them out?” He said. But luckily, his tone was lighthearted. No guilt to be seen. If there was, Azriel would’ve slapped the back of his head to reprimand those feelings.

Cassian hesitated, but then sighed. “Skin was practically melted off. Some parts were down to the bone. Bloody as hell,” he briefly described.

Azriel sucked in a breath, gazing down at his own hands. How had he not felt that? Apparently, his concern over Eris had been that powerful. Eris also seemed frozen in shock.

Cassian shrugged. “They looked better after Madja used all her healing magic on them. I think the only thing she was concerned about was the potential damage to your sense of touch, Az. Like, light touches.”

Azriel hummed in response. “It certainly wouldn’t be any different than the aftermath of my old injury,” he admitted. “Just takes a few years for it to return to normal.”

Cassian hummed. “Well, anyway, I was just coming here to check up on you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

“We’re fine,” Azriel assured his brother. After a moment of hesitation, he sighed and said, “Thank you, Cass. You kept a level head.”

Cassian scoffed. “Someone had to. You should’ve seen Rhys. He was practically catatonic with the mental battle. I’m surprised his or your head didn’t burst. Or Eris’s for that matter.”

Eris chuckled softly at that, but didn’t say anything. Azriel glanced at him before stretching his arms out best he could without the use of his hands. “Anyway, we’re off to get clean,” he declared.

“Tell Rhys the Autumn Court isn’t getting one of my brothers as ruler just yet,” Eris joked.

Cassian chuckled and nodded. “Don’t die,” he replied with a snicker before walking back where he came from. Wing beats told them that he’d actually left.

Madja was walking back in too. “While I’d rather keep your hands wrapped, Azriel, I do agree that you two need to bathe,” she explained. “I’ll unwrap them, but they’re going back on immediately after.”

The shadows floated towards her, some settling on the bandages of his hands as if in question to continue the order she gave them last time.

“I believe it will be alright if he sees his hands now, my friends,” Madja told them with a sweet smile. “Let’s get them unwrapped now.”

Barely fifteen minutes later, Azriel and Eris were sitting together in the bathtub, mostly just relaxing. Azriel pulled his hands up out of the lukewarm water (more strict instructions from Madja) to examine them. His old scars… were almost gone. As if burned or melted away. Instead, deep indents remained. His hands felt as if they had lost weight and he couldn’t move his fingers yet, but Madja had told him the muscles still needed time to realize they weren’t melted anymore.

Regardless, it looked odd. The skin was pulled tight. But something felt off about them.

Eris put a hand on his wrists to put his hands back in the water and draw his attention. “It’ll just take time,” Eris assured him.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of burns this bad,” Azriel admitted.

“I have,” Eris said. “Normally it took a few years, but they did eventually heal if they survived the initial burning.”

Azriel hummed. “Guess you’ll be doing the paperwork for a while,” he joked.

Eris scoffed, smiling. “Indeed I will,” he agreed.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

A/N: hope you enjoyed (and cried at least once because I SOBBED while writing this)

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @fieldofdaisiies, @skyesayshi, @lilah-asteria,

Tagged in all Azriel Stories: @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468,

#acotar #azris #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azris fanfiction #MAJORLY angsty #happy ending tho <3 #also theyre so fucking gay for each other OML ITS SO CUTE #I DESIRE VALIDATIONNNN (lmao)#mywriting

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alexanderlightweight · 8 days ago

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has anyone read anything of the hunter wants to live quietly?

because Alec with Lee Sa-Young's poison abilities/problems due to circle experiments and Magnus like J... immune to said poisons since they're from Edom.

Like Alec having to be careful of his sweat, blood, tears, breath and touch and then there is Magnus who just swoops him up and is like 'oh no one wants this? it's too deadly? k, mine now. toodles."

Ragnor later: you said toodles? why on earth would you say toodles?

Magnus: i was thinking of you

Ragnor: i am leaving. i was going to help you sort out this latest mess, however i've changed my mind. goodbye.

Magnus after Ragnor is left: good, no one to obstruct me from a honeymoon

Cat with common sense: okay, so you may have figured out how to get rid of Ragnor, but i'm still here. walk me through this, hmm?

Magnus: he's adorable and shy despite being deadly, what more do i need to explain?

Cat: Ragnor will recover, eventually.

i just feel like an even more touch starved then normal Alec would be just, constantly lying on or leaning against or trying to touch Magnus wherever they go.

#lumine rambles about meta #malec #lumine's meta abyss

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rodolfoparras · 4 months ago

Note

Alec I started going to the gym and you won't believe it but I saw the THICKEST ass on a dude I've ever seen. He was barbell squatting right in front of me and I physically had to try and look respectfully but God damn.

And the man was easily 10 years older than me and he was wearing Spandex shorts so I saw Everything. Butt balls and dick.

So now I'm just imagining old-school powerlifter or wrestler Price teaching you how to lift or something in Spandex shorts god help me

My love I have to say you are the bravest human being for walking on earth because I know they’d have to sedate me if I were to be put in a gym full of big strong men

Like trainer price, taking advantage of the little thing when he doesn’t even wanna exchange words with you because the power dynamics but you constantly tease him rile him up rubbing your ass up against his cock grinding your own crotch where he needs you the most watching how he’s practically leaking through that silly tight suit of his fucking him on the practice matress while he’s crying about how wrong this is

#alec answers

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sielaltruist · 7 months ago

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Butterflies.

What an unpleasant day, Magnus thought as he sat in his apothecary and stared at vast nothingness despite having demonology books on the study table. Alexander was not back yet. No, the whole truth is that Alexander, who was angry with him, had left in the morning at nine past and was still not back. It’s 4 pm now, and since his boyfriend left their home, his mind constantly circled back to the fight they had in the morning. It was awful and really loud—the argument. It had been about the immortality issue once again and this was their first big argument after they got back together since the Camille debacle. This time he had really pushed Alec’s buttons which he’d never willingly do. And Alec, by the look on his face, could understand that his boyfriend’s resolve broke and was seconds away from slamming the door, right on his face. From then, up until now, he sat worrying about him. He’d wanted to do nothing more than to look into the bright blue eyes and tell how sorry he was and that he did not mean a single syllable that he had uttered at that moment, he knew that Alec required space and he respected that, but now, his mind starts to worry and he glances at his phone if he’d received any text from Alec but feels dejected as there is no sign of what he is looking for.

He gets an idea that he deems fitting as an apology to the Archer for the way things ended between them in the morning. So, he summons a small stack of Clairefontaine Triomphe writing papers and, writes a short and sweet letter for Alec.

Dear Alexander,

I apologize for my suboptimal behavior earlier this day and would want nothing more than to tell you by holding your hand that I did not mean an ounce of what I said in the moment of heat. Believe me, love, when I say that you are indeed the best thing that happened to me in decades. Now, if you will come home, to me, I would gladly curl up with you on the couch and kiss you till the daybreak.

Love, Magnus.

He perfumed the letter with sandalwood, of course, what else would he use, and performed his little trick that sent the letter, converted into a fire message, flying out of the room to his Alec, in the form of a butterfly. He watched as it left the room swiftly and started waiting patiently for Alec to reply.

He waited and waited. Ten minutes turned into thirty and that turned into an hour and a half.

No reply, not a single word through any means from Alec. He was not on a mission or on patrol as Alec would always ensure he informed him beforehand. So, he must either be in the Institute or with the Alliance. Magnus has a half mind to track him but he resorts to calling Isabelle instead.

“Hello, my favorite compatriot from Brooklyn!”

“You don’t really know many people in Brooklyn,” he replied.

“Of course, I do, like your boyfriend who lives with you,” he is amused at Isabelle’s reply.

“And pray tell, why is your brother not your favorite?” he asked.

“Because he is in a grumpy mode and had already snapped at me once and twice at Jace,” she answered.

He is indisputably aware of the grumpiness in his boyfriend and it is his job to make it go away. Just when he was about to inquire about what Alec was doing, Isabelle pondered a question towards him.

“Magnus, does it have to be something to do with you?” she asked.

His reply was easy. Silence.

“By the angel, should’ve already known it was you, I thought it had something to do with mindless Shadowhunters who are refusing to cooperate with the Alliance,” she said again, more like realized.

“Is he in your line of sight, dear Isabelle?” he asked her.

“Yes, we are in the training room and he is staring at a piece of paper with his signature “I’m unimpressed,” look,” she said.

What Isabelle said only meant one thing. Alec is nonchalant about his apology, not impressive enough, so he’ll just strengthen his strategy to woo Alec through his cher-courrier.

“Thank you, Isabelle, now I have to make it up to your brother,” he said with determination.

“I know you will, Magnus,” she said leaving the call.

Now, he took the writing paper and started expressing his love for Alec, molded into an apology in the form of words.

Dear Alexander,

I once again stand here to tell you how sorry I am for what happened in the morning. Darling, you are exqui………………….

He filled the entire letter with his adoration for his loving Shadowhunter and, transformed it into a butterfly, scented it, and sent it flying towards the Institute.

He waited for forty-five minutes and when nothing came his way from his beloved, he took the feather into his hand and started writing again. Maybe the letter was quite a bit. So, he tried again.

My Dearest Alec…………….

No answer. He tried again.

I truly am remorseful……….

Nothing from his boyfriend. He wrote afresh with a different ink.

I want to hold you……………

None. No reply. He was reluctant to give up. He sprinkled glitter in the letter and sent it Alec’s way.

Sweetheart, I love you………

Nope, not a singular word from Alec. So, he dipped the feather in the black ink and started.

Alexander, talk to me……....

He was exhausted, not because of expressing his affection and fondness for Alec but because of having his beloved not give an expression for what he was saying. The silence was absolute torture and now it turned into anger.

Come on, this is not fair………

He wrote, and waited. The answer became obvious when he held the feather again.

He was feeling what was a huge amount of sadness, hurt, and a bit of anger and decided that this was his last letter and he was going to the Institute, once the reply from Alec resembled his previous replies.

Come home, Alexander, I’m sorry………

He sent it and waited. It was almost 10 ‘o'clock and he seriously questioned his boyfriend’s stubbornness in not wanting to speak with him and ghosting him. Was this how Alec felt during the time of their break up? He remembered how sorry Alec was and how frustrated he got in a certain voicemail. He had listened to all of them, a part of him at that time hoped that he’d preserve those voicemails if Alec never wanted to get back together with him. But that was an obstacle that they had overcome, together.

He didn’t make an effort to dress himself ever-so-enticingly as far as his fashion sense goes. He was worn out and missed having Alec by his side. The only energy he has is required to open up a portal directly to the Institute and he did that.

He was at the back of the Institute and walked, without a single thought on his mind, into the place, as he no longer required anybody to escort him. He found Jace in the corridors and Jace, who must’ve either sensed it or found it from Isabelle, had simply mouthed at him that said training room.

He strode towards the place with quietude, careful not to show his wretched worry.

There was his Alexander, his back facing him and his position upright. He was holding the bow and arrow, aiming towards the target with the proficiency that can only be achieved by vigorous training. He cleared his throat to draw the attention of his boyfriend.

Alec didn’t turn toward him and just spoke in a tone that indicated detachment and coldness. If he was surprised by his presence, he did very well not showing it.

“What do you want?”

Oh no. That angered him. After all those apologies and letters and his obvious efforts, Alec just did not do that.

“What do I want? What exactly do you want Alec?” He said with a clear indication of how furious he was.

“Nothing,” Alec stated, not moving an inch.

“Why are you being so uncompromising?” He said, his voice weary.

“You mean difficult,” Alec answered, finally turning towards him.

“No, I didn’t say that,” He immediately responded. Alec looked like someone who hadn’t been sleeping for two days and he could notice the bruises on the archer’s hands.

“But you meant it,” Alec quietly voiced his opinion.

“You’re never difficult to be with, Alexander,” He uttered in a soft voice.

Alec didn’t respond to that, he was just standing there, with his eyes looking anywhere except at the person in front of him.

“I’ve apologized so many times, Alec, and I-” he started but was cut short.

“Wait, when did you apologize?” Alec asked him, clearly confused.

“Seriously Alexander,” He said, looking every bit unimpressed.

“Magnus, You didn’t apologize at all, today,” Alec finished.

“I did,”

“In your dreams, I suppose,” Alec muttered.

“Alexander,” he retorted.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,”

“What did you even read in those letters, Alec?”

“What letters?”

“The letters that I sent you,” he exclaimed.

“I did not receive a single letter from anybody today, the Institute mailbox is empty,” Alec declined.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, now you don’t think I am telling the truth, fantastic, what else is new?” The bitterness in his voice was evidently clear.

“Alec, will you just stop, I am trying to make things right between us,”

“So, you think I am not?”

“For Lilith’s sake, I don’t see you doing that,” He said, frustrated.

“Magnus, if you are really here to pick fights with me I-”

“My purpose of being here is not that, but I highly suppose you are the one who is trying to do it,”

Just when Alec was about to remark, they were interrupted by footsteps making their way toward the Institute. So, they naturally fell quiet. It was Clary, and she was carrying a strange cage in her hand.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” she inquired.

They nodded.

“Magnus, I’m here to ask if these belong to you,” she pointed to the box she was holding. Now, it became distinct to him what was in it—his letters—all of them. Their wings were fluttering, and those butterfly-shaped letters were trying to get out of the cage.

“They’re sparkling and have a natural glimmer of your magic, so I brought them to you,” she said, holding them out.

“Yes, they belong to me, and how did you get them? " He said, taking the cage into his hands.

“Oh, the new group of Shadowhunters from Geneva caught them, they are still waiting for more in the entrance,” she answered.

He’d take care of them tomorrow but for now, his priority is Alec and giving him these letters.

“Thank you, biscuit. You truly helped me a lot today,” he said with a breath of relief and gratitude toward the redhead.

“You’re welcome and good night, the both of you,” she left with a smile on her face.

He looked at Alec, who was looking at the cage in his hand. There was no anger, only mild irritation mostly masked by curiosity.

“All right, brace yourself, Alexander,” he said, hoping Alec would like what he had done.

He opened the cage and the letters went flying toward Alec, landing on Alec, forming a half-silhouette of the Shadowhunter.

“Magnus, what are these?” Alec asked not moving an inch and holding still so as not to disturb those little inanimate letters.

“Pick one and read,” he instructed his boyfriend gently.

Alec did as he was told. He watched as his eyes skimmed over the letter swiftly, the expression on his face changing, his gaze softening and a small smile forming on his angelic face.

Alec looked at him and asked.

“Are all these letters, apologies?”

“Yes, they are,”

“Why so many?”

“You were not responding so I-”

“I forgive you,” Alec didn’t blurt it out but had said it calmly.

“You didn’t read all of them,” he said.

“I will but to forgive you, you are enough,”

Alec uttered those words with such sincerity that it made him want to reach out to the Archer and wrap him in the warmest hug. But he didn’t.

“I do not mean anything I’ve said this morning, I’m sorry-” he started instead.

“Magnus, I know,” Alec told him gently.

“So, you already forgave me?”

“Of course, I did,”

“But, you didn’t say so,” he said in a quiet tone.

“Because I wanted to know,” Alec hesitated. “I wanted to know if you’d reach out to me before I’d do it,” Alec whispered.

He moved towards Alec.

“Oh, Alexander,” He cupped Alec’s face in his hands and gently tugged at his face so that the Shadowhunter would look at him. The butterflies on Alec's body stayed where they were, only fluttering a little.

“Of course, I would reach out to you,”

“I know, it’s a stupid doubt to have-” Alec mumbled but he cut him off in the middle.

“Of course it’s not sweetheart, I’m sorry that I gave you the implication that I’d never come to you first and that you had to doubt me about it,” he softly said those words, meaning every monosyllable.

Alec looked at him with adoration and in a heartbeat, kissed him. The butterflies came to life when their lips touched and then again settled on Alec.

The kiss was soft, nothing passionate but rather it was a slow one, one that is full of love and familiarity. Their hands wrapped themselves around each other.

When they finally broke the kiss but, didn’t break away from the embrace, Magnus bent his head forward and a bit downward, his forehead touched Alec’s.

“I’ll try to do better,” he said gently. A soft smile spread across Alec’s face.

“So will I,” Alec uttered with reverence.

It was a promise from both of them. They smiled into their kiss once again.

#Butterflies #my fics #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #the shadowhunter chronicles #the mortal instruments #fan fiction #long post #ao3 #inspired by the doraemon episode i watched #Yes I still watch doraemon #malec fanfic #green writes

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